I’m a clown on a mission. Yes, I’m an actual day job birthday party clown, but also a playwright who wields humor as a weapon. I tend to write comedies with ulterior motives. The tomfoolery is almost always a Trojan horse for my heart, my message, and my pain. My chief goal as a theatremaker is to sneak up on my audience, to create batshit and fun worlds that pickle into something deeper and eventually allow space for folks to grow their sense of what’s possible in themselves and in the world.

I lean on irreverence in my art and in my life. I’m an improvisatory soul: a baker who refuses to use recipes, a bicyclist who loves to get lost, a goof who refuses to do the same bit twice. I’m a jazz pianist and composer who often plays with my saxy saxophonist of a husband. I’m a proudly spiritual Jew. I’m gratefully sober; I have discovered myself through the reclamation and reimagination that came with staring down addiction. I’m a genderqueer, hippy-dippy, spiritual Coloradan who views their artistic practice as a gesture towards joy and healing.

My writing is how I answer burning questions, how I reckon with dissonance, how I expand. I lean on queerness as a functional philosophy; I know that the play I need to write and the person I need to become are just outside of my reach, just beyond the recognizable.