When I write plays, I think about how I could be writing poetry instead. When I write poetry, I think about how I could transform them into short films with rich cinematography. When I start to film a project, I think about how I could direct it as a play.
With these constant contradictions, my process as a writer has turned into less of “which one?” and more of “how many?”. I’m always in search of how to blend music, film, poetry, and choreography in scripts and rehearsal to create theatre that feels rich and exciting. In Ennui, I ask how we can parody French new wave films onstage. In It Comes At Night, I use home videos to express youth and innocence in a time when everything feels ultimately confusing.
The experiences I tend to write about are largely my own. My experiences as a bored young adult; my experiences in a college conservatory program forced to do absurd assignments for a grade; my experiences as a pre-teen menstruating for the first time and feeling so much fear and confusion about my own body. With a touch of magical realism and a dash of metaphor, these experiences portray different worlds from mine, yet the themes and emotions are the same.