- Published on
luminescence: the emission of light by a substance that has not been heated.
LuMinEssence: the mission of finding light in the dark.
Finding
Today I did something I haven’t done in the longest time
I checked out an actual physical book
From an actual in-person physical library
I walked into a row of books
Without knowing what I wanted
And let a book catch my eye
A bright yellow cover
Sometimes it is helpful to judge a book by -
Index, A History of the: A Bookish Adventure
from Medieval Manuscripts to the Digital Age
Peak delicious nerdery
How we organize and arrange
And find things
From searching scrolls
To the ease of Ctrl + F
But a physical book
The weight of it
The smell of it
The joy of turning pages of it
And finding it by chance.
I checked out an actual physical book
From an actual in-person physical library
I walked into a row of books
Without knowing what I wanted
And let a book catch my eye
A bright yellow cover
Sometimes it is helpful to judge a book by -
Index, A History of the: A Bookish Adventure
from Medieval Manuscripts to the Digital Age
Peak delicious nerdery
How we organize and arrange
And find things
From searching scrolls
To the ease of Ctrl + F
But a physical book
The weight of it
The smell of it
The joy of turning pages of it
And finding it by chance.
- Published on
I feel disappointment so keenly
And like I’ve been robbed of the past several years
First it was cancer and then recovery
And just I was really starting to feel myself
Feel "normal" and able to do the thing
The pandemic hit
And it was all taken away again
And I don't feel safe to be in the room any more
Because the world is on fire
And the people in charge keep handing out matches and lighters and kerosene cocktails
And then I came back to do theatre in the woods
And oh my god it felt so good to have a script in my hands
To be sharing the love of musical theatre with a new generation of kids
And then I had to work with someone whose skills did not match what was on their resume
They could not do the thing
And it was disappointing and frustrating because it curtailed the process
And it made it harder for the kids
And it wasn't until he quit, mid-rehearsal, in front of a room full of campers and staff
That it was made better
But in between we sat on the stage at the veggie patch
And did accent work
We drilled melodies and harmonies and rhythms and words
We talked about the meaning and hidden meanings of the words
We talked about intention and making ourselves heard
We learnt choreography and blocking
And on the hottest day of the summer (so far) the show happened
And it was a relief and it was exciting and it was swelteringly hot
And I got to wave my arms in front of a band
Which was scary and challenging and unbelievably fun
And at the end the theatre crew descended onto the stage and started drilling and ripping and carrying bits of the set away to make space for the next show and
I felt intensely sad because I didn't want it to be over
But I helped pack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And went up the hill to unpack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And by the time I got back to the dining hall
The cast party was over and the kids had been taken to their bunks
And I didn't get to say good night or well done or I'm so proud of the work you've done and
I felt a rush of grief because it all had been taken away again
And all I could do was sob
And then two nights later
Reminiscing about eight years before
When organic-vegetarian-regularly-exercising-meditating-rarely-drinking-29 year old-me was told
You have leukemia.
You will be dead in a month if you don’t have treatment.
And then all that happened
And today, eight years later, I feel relief
I feel scared it will come back and it everything will be taken away again
I feel thankful I was where I was when it happened
The best place for the worst thing to happen
I feel joy that I can sing
I feel joy that I can play flute
And that I’m learning to play the piano
I feel joy that I can read music
I feel joy that I can read at all
That I can form words
That I can be back in the woods
Even when it is hard
Even when it is disappointing
I am here.
And like I’ve been robbed of the past several years
First it was cancer and then recovery
And just I was really starting to feel myself
Feel "normal" and able to do the thing
The pandemic hit
And it was all taken away again
And I don't feel safe to be in the room any more
Because the world is on fire
And the people in charge keep handing out matches and lighters and kerosene cocktails
And then I came back to do theatre in the woods
And oh my god it felt so good to have a script in my hands
To be sharing the love of musical theatre with a new generation of kids
And then I had to work with someone whose skills did not match what was on their resume
They could not do the thing
And it was disappointing and frustrating because it curtailed the process
And it made it harder for the kids
And it wasn't until he quit, mid-rehearsal, in front of a room full of campers and staff
That it was made better
But in between we sat on the stage at the veggie patch
And did accent work
We drilled melodies and harmonies and rhythms and words
We talked about the meaning and hidden meanings of the words
We talked about intention and making ourselves heard
We learnt choreography and blocking
And on the hottest day of the summer (so far) the show happened
And it was a relief and it was exciting and it was swelteringly hot
And I got to wave my arms in front of a band
Which was scary and challenging and unbelievably fun
And at the end the theatre crew descended onto the stage and started drilling and ripping and carrying bits of the set away to make space for the next show and
I felt intensely sad because I didn't want it to be over
But I helped pack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And went up the hill to unpack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And by the time I got back to the dining hall
The cast party was over and the kids had been taken to their bunks
And I didn't get to say good night or well done or I'm so proud of the work you've done and
I felt a rush of grief because it all had been taken away again
And all I could do was sob
And then two nights later
Reminiscing about eight years before
When organic-vegetarian-regularly-exercising-meditating-rarely-drinking-29 year old-me was told
You have leukemia.
You will be dead in a month if you don’t have treatment.
And then all that happened
And today, eight years later, I feel relief
I feel scared it will come back and it everything will be taken away again
I feel thankful I was where I was when it happened
The best place for the worst thing to happen
I feel joy that I can sing
I feel joy that I can play flute
And that I’m learning to play the piano
I feel joy that I can read music
I feel joy that I can read at all
That I can form words
That I can be back in the woods
Even when it is hard
Even when it is disappointing
I am here.
- Published on
Remember when you fell in love in the woods
Before covid, before cancer, before London
A life time ago
And now you’re back
And you walk through camp at 12.30 in the morning
With a very tired puppy in tow
And despite the hour
Lights are on in some of the shops
Potters are potting
Print makers are pressing ink
A musician is playing a clarinet
And you wish you never had to leave
You want to be making art in the woods forever
Even when it’s hard
Even when you’re an all-you-can-eat meal for mosquitos
Even when it’s hot
Even when everyone is struggling because we’re all coming out of and still living through a global pandemic where half the population continues to insist it’s not real
Even though you have to apply sunscreen four times a day
Even though you perpetually feel sticky and like your hands are never clean
The trees with their leaves help soothe your soul
The moss continues to grow in tiny increments despite the drought
And you fall in love again
With music, with art, with telling stories
With the bond of creativity
Before covid, before cancer, before London
A life time ago
And now you’re back
And you walk through camp at 12.30 in the morning
With a very tired puppy in tow
And despite the hour
Lights are on in some of the shops
Potters are potting
Print makers are pressing ink
A musician is playing a clarinet
And you wish you never had to leave
You want to be making art in the woods forever
Even when it’s hard
Even when you’re an all-you-can-eat meal for mosquitos
Even when it’s hot
Even when everyone is struggling because we’re all coming out of and still living through a global pandemic where half the population continues to insist it’s not real
Even though you have to apply sunscreen four times a day
Even though you perpetually feel sticky and like your hands are never clean
The trees with their leaves help soothe your soul
The moss continues to grow in tiny increments despite the drought
And you fall in love again
With music, with art, with telling stories
With the bond of creativity
- Published on
Oh my god I have missed performing
The exhaustion of rehearsals
The learning of the notes
The drilling
Sitzprobe with the orchestra
Is there anything better than live music?
And singing in a room with 100 people?
What it took to get here this time
Two years of not being allowed to do this
Then rehearsals, all socially distanced and mandatory mask wearing and making sure every one is vaccinated
And a PCR test
And a rapid test
And emails back and forth and QR codes
And here we are at Carnegie Hall
And all the bells on earth shall ring!
And all the souls on earth shall sing!
Alleluia!
To sing Bernstein
The Chichester Psalms with its complex rhythms and time signatures and clashing harmonies and sumptuous beauty
And Bernstein's daughters are in the room!
Legacy, remembering
Passing the torch
Yisahak!
And Take 6 are extraordinary with a lightness of touch and a joy from over thirty years together
And Mikaela Bennet is stunning with that crystal soprano ringing across the hall
And when the Northwell Health Nurse Choir come onto the stage in their bright blue scrubs
My heart is in my throat
You will be found
Remembering all the nurses who looked after me seven years ago
Brought me lunch on a decorated tray with candy because they knew
I was sad I was missing out on Halloween
Thinking about what these smiling lovely people have been through in the past two years
Hark the herald angels SING!
Bless Harold
And feel so thankful that you are here.
Amen.
The exhaustion of rehearsals
The learning of the notes
The drilling
Sitzprobe with the orchestra
Is there anything better than live music?
And singing in a room with 100 people?
What it took to get here this time
Two years of not being allowed to do this
Then rehearsals, all socially distanced and mandatory mask wearing and making sure every one is vaccinated
And a PCR test
And a rapid test
And emails back and forth and QR codes
And here we are at Carnegie Hall
And all the bells on earth shall ring!
And all the souls on earth shall sing!
Alleluia!
To sing Bernstein
The Chichester Psalms with its complex rhythms and time signatures and clashing harmonies and sumptuous beauty
And Bernstein's daughters are in the room!
Legacy, remembering
Passing the torch
Yisahak!
And Take 6 are extraordinary with a lightness of touch and a joy from over thirty years together
And Mikaela Bennet is stunning with that crystal soprano ringing across the hall
And when the Northwell Health Nurse Choir come onto the stage in their bright blue scrubs
My heart is in my throat
You will be found
Remembering all the nurses who looked after me seven years ago
Brought me lunch on a decorated tray with candy because they knew
I was sad I was missing out on Halloween
Thinking about what these smiling lovely people have been through in the past two years
Hark the herald angels SING!
Bless Harold
And feel so thankful that you are here.
Amen.
- Published on
The last time I was at
The Majestic on Broadway
Was 2008
A lifetime and a half ago
Pre- covid, cancer, Fort Collins, Aaron, London, smart phones, and walking the camino
Still Kris
Our first time in NYC
We floated into the city
Literally and metaphorically
A huge storm had hit and
The water was lapping at the bottom of the taxi from the airport
I felt from the first moment I was home
It was still the time when hotels had maps of the city
On tear-away pads in the lobby
And the receptionist/concierge would circle the hotel
And the landmarks and the theatres
And tell you which subways to take
I think every place we stayed in over two years
Was shut down
For violating codes of various sorts
Relics like the paper maps
Replaced by smart phones and
Boutique hotels and air bnb’s with wifi
Back then
Phantom felt like a relic
Tired, in need of refreshing
I, rather sacrilegiously, thought it needed new orchestrations
Something to bring it past 1988
I didn’t mean slashing it to 12 players
Later, still The Before Times
I preferred Phantom in London
Where it felt grander
More opulent
Tonight I’m back at the Majestic
With my friend Paula
(post cancer, pre- covid times)
The theatre has been dark for over 500 days
The longest Broadway has been dark in history
I’ve already worked Springsteen
Right across the street
The first night I handed out playbills in the lobby
I hadn’t been in a room with so many people in over a year
It was overwhelming
The sound of that many people
The look of joy on the faces of the audiences
As they stepped inside a theatre for the first time
Vaxxed and unmasked (the rules were different then)
All that has happened in between
To be back in the theatre
As an audience member
Surrounded by people
(Masked and vaxxed - the rules have changed again)
The roar of appreciation when Sammi Cannold
Stepped out onto the stage
The delight of a surprise Josh Groban
Singing “Could We Start Again, Please”
Could we?
I’ve spent the past year and a half
(And longer)
Championing theatre on screen
Here we were
A live in-person audience
To watch theatre on a screen
A new documentary
The Show Must Go On
Joined by people watching from home
On six different continents
The film itself was moving, beautiful, inspiring
The crazy bravery of all those people traveling to South Korea at the beginning of the pandemic
For Theatre. For Art. For Profit. For Story-Telling
Because what else is there to do?
(I want a documentary about all the artists who streamed theatre during the pandemic
Broadway and the West End may have been dark
But theatre didn’t stop
It just shifted form)
Seeing the process
Actors getting sweaty, doing their drills
The hundreds of hands behind the scenes
Sewing costumes
Rigging sets
Spraying and wiping every surface and even the air with disinfectant
I'm not a Cats fan, but even goddamn “Memory” had me crying
The Korean culture of acting for the whole and not the individual
A strange concept in the land of the free and the home of the brave
That it was all British and American musicals that stayed open (at least as depicted in the film)
The love of The Theatre.
A phone rings! We're truly back!
I get chills watching the audience on screen watching the actors on stage singing and dancing to the people in the seats
The roar of the crowd
The final credits. The curtain closing.
The curtain re-opens with a baby grand
And the candles from Phantom flickering all around
Kristen Blodgette at the keys
Sierra Boggess with mic in hand
Former Christine Daee
I don't know why I'm frightened
I know my way around here
(chuckle)
Adrienne Warren, Ariana DeBose, Ali Ewoldt, Shereen Pimentel
The chorus made of up cast members from
The Phantom of the Opera world tour
It’s as if we never said goodbye
Could we start again please
A truly beautiful arrangement
I don't want it to end
I want more
Outside, I check my phone
The world is dangerously rapidly warming
Covid is raging
What is the point of all this singing and dancing and pretending to be cats?!
It's all changing
It might not be here tomorrow
What would the ancient Greeks have made of our theatre?
Or our early ancestors beating their animal skin drums and dancing around the campfires telling stories of their ancestors?
The show must go on.
The Majestic on Broadway
Was 2008
A lifetime and a half ago
Pre- covid, cancer, Fort Collins, Aaron, London, smart phones, and walking the camino
Still Kris
Our first time in NYC
We floated into the city
Literally and metaphorically
A huge storm had hit and
The water was lapping at the bottom of the taxi from the airport
I felt from the first moment I was home
It was still the time when hotels had maps of the city
On tear-away pads in the lobby
And the receptionist/concierge would circle the hotel
And the landmarks and the theatres
And tell you which subways to take
I think every place we stayed in over two years
Was shut down
For violating codes of various sorts
Relics like the paper maps
Replaced by smart phones and
Boutique hotels and air bnb’s with wifi
Back then
Phantom felt like a relic
Tired, in need of refreshing
I, rather sacrilegiously, thought it needed new orchestrations
Something to bring it past 1988
I didn’t mean slashing it to 12 players
Later, still The Before Times
I preferred Phantom in London
Where it felt grander
More opulent
Tonight I’m back at the Majestic
With my friend Paula
(post cancer, pre- covid times)
The theatre has been dark for over 500 days
The longest Broadway has been dark in history
I’ve already worked Springsteen
Right across the street
The first night I handed out playbills in the lobby
I hadn’t been in a room with so many people in over a year
It was overwhelming
The sound of that many people
The look of joy on the faces of the audiences
As they stepped inside a theatre for the first time
Vaxxed and unmasked (the rules were different then)
All that has happened in between
To be back in the theatre
As an audience member
Surrounded by people
(Masked and vaxxed - the rules have changed again)
The roar of appreciation when Sammi Cannold
Stepped out onto the stage
The delight of a surprise Josh Groban
Singing “Could We Start Again, Please”
Could we?
I’ve spent the past year and a half
(And longer)
Championing theatre on screen
Here we were
A live in-person audience
To watch theatre on a screen
A new documentary
The Show Must Go On
Joined by people watching from home
On six different continents
The film itself was moving, beautiful, inspiring
The crazy bravery of all those people traveling to South Korea at the beginning of the pandemic
For Theatre. For Art. For Profit. For Story-Telling
Because what else is there to do?
(I want a documentary about all the artists who streamed theatre during the pandemic
Broadway and the West End may have been dark
But theatre didn’t stop
It just shifted form)
Seeing the process
Actors getting sweaty, doing their drills
The hundreds of hands behind the scenes
Sewing costumes
Rigging sets
Spraying and wiping every surface and even the air with disinfectant
I'm not a Cats fan, but even goddamn “Memory” had me crying
The Korean culture of acting for the whole and not the individual
A strange concept in the land of the free and the home of the brave
That it was all British and American musicals that stayed open (at least as depicted in the film)
The love of The Theatre.
A phone rings! We're truly back!
I get chills watching the audience on screen watching the actors on stage singing and dancing to the people in the seats
The roar of the crowd
The final credits. The curtain closing.
The curtain re-opens with a baby grand
And the candles from Phantom flickering all around
Kristen Blodgette at the keys
Sierra Boggess with mic in hand
Former Christine Daee
I don't know why I'm frightened
I know my way around here
(chuckle)
Adrienne Warren, Ariana DeBose, Ali Ewoldt, Shereen Pimentel
The chorus made of up cast members from
The Phantom of the Opera world tour
It’s as if we never said goodbye
Could we start again please
A truly beautiful arrangement
I don't want it to end
I want more
Outside, I check my phone
The world is dangerously rapidly warming
Covid is raging
What is the point of all this singing and dancing and pretending to be cats?!
It's all changing
It might not be here tomorrow
What would the ancient Greeks have made of our theatre?
Or our early ancestors beating their animal skin drums and dancing around the campfires telling stories of their ancestors?
The show must go on.
- Published on
Today is seven years since I was diagnosed with
Acute myeloid leukemia
It feels like much longer
It was a lifetime ago
In New Milford Hospital
When the emergency room doctor looked at me said
You’re going to start to hear the word “cancer”
And I think I laughed at him
And I think I said out loud
“You have the wrong patient
I’m a non-smoking organic eating vegetarian who exercises and meditates
*I* don’t have cancer”
I did have cancer
A blood cancer that more commonly affects men in their sixties
And has a survival rate beyond 5 years of about 25%
I was 29. I was supposed to be working at camp
Vocal directing RENT
No day but today…
Healthy organic me was like
“I don’t want chemo, that’s toxic”
And the oncologist looked me in the eye and said
“You’ll be dead in a month”
So I did the chemo
And the radiation
And they wiped my immune system
And injected my sister’s stem cells into my port
And I spent a year fetal on the couch
And I wasn’t allowed take-out
And I wasn’t allowed to ride the subway
And I wasn’t allowed to go to the theatre
And my fingernails fell off one by one
And I lost all my hair (though I actually quite liked that part)
And my teeth went to shit
And I went into menopause
And I felt fury and rage and despair
And I felt love from all around the world
And somehow, somewhere
Life stopped being appointments
And blood work and blood counts
And wondering when I was going to feel “normal” again
It became about living in New York (and then New Jersey)
I ran a bit
5 marathons and 3 half-marathons (but who's counting?!)
We visited Maine, California, and North Carolina
Honeymooned in Guana
I worked on Broadway
Wrote and performed a cabaret
Joined a chorus
(happiness is singing in the choir)
Performed at Carnegie Hall, Alice Tully Hall, and Battery Park
Played a citizen in Alita
I even played a fake patient and
Built the Filmed Live Musicals database
Covid was triggering
I felt like I’d already done it
The isolation, careful hand washing, fear of infection
The random unexplainable symptoms
Reading accounts of covid was like reading through my recovery
Exhausting
Seven years on I still deal with side effects
Every headache that lasts a little too long
Every bout of fatigue
Every time something is a little off
The fear that...
But I’m ok
I get to be with Aaron
We bought a house
We got a puppy -
Voltaire
Even when he’s literally chewing the walls or waking up at 5am and refusing to settle even when he’s fed and watered and pooped in all the senses of the word
He’s truly the best of all possible puppies
And Aaron is the best of all possible humans
Kind and patient and loving
I’m singing
I’m dancing
I'm writing
I’m learning to play piano
I'm learning to drive! On the right side of the road!
I'm exercising
I'm teaching
I'm remembering to breathe
I’m here.
Acute myeloid leukemia
It feels like much longer
It was a lifetime ago
In New Milford Hospital
When the emergency room doctor looked at me said
You’re going to start to hear the word “cancer”
And I think I laughed at him
And I think I said out loud
“You have the wrong patient
I’m a non-smoking organic eating vegetarian who exercises and meditates
*I* don’t have cancer”
I did have cancer
A blood cancer that more commonly affects men in their sixties
And has a survival rate beyond 5 years of about 25%
I was 29. I was supposed to be working at camp
Vocal directing RENT
No day but today…
Healthy organic me was like
“I don’t want chemo, that’s toxic”
And the oncologist looked me in the eye and said
“You’ll be dead in a month”
So I did the chemo
And the radiation
And they wiped my immune system
And injected my sister’s stem cells into my port
And I spent a year fetal on the couch
And I wasn’t allowed take-out
And I wasn’t allowed to ride the subway
And I wasn’t allowed to go to the theatre
And my fingernails fell off one by one
And I lost all my hair (though I actually quite liked that part)
And my teeth went to shit
And I went into menopause
And I felt fury and rage and despair
And I felt love from all around the world
And somehow, somewhere
Life stopped being appointments
And blood work and blood counts
And wondering when I was going to feel “normal” again
It became about living in New York (and then New Jersey)
I ran a bit
5 marathons and 3 half-marathons (but who's counting?!)
We visited Maine, California, and North Carolina
Honeymooned in Guana
I worked on Broadway
Wrote and performed a cabaret
Joined a chorus
(happiness is singing in the choir)
Performed at Carnegie Hall, Alice Tully Hall, and Battery Park
Played a citizen in Alita
I even played a fake patient and
Built the Filmed Live Musicals database
Covid was triggering
I felt like I’d already done it
The isolation, careful hand washing, fear of infection
The random unexplainable symptoms
Reading accounts of covid was like reading through my recovery
Exhausting
Seven years on I still deal with side effects
Every headache that lasts a little too long
Every bout of fatigue
Every time something is a little off
The fear that...
But I’m ok
I get to be with Aaron
We bought a house
We got a puppy -
Voltaire
Even when he’s literally chewing the walls or waking up at 5am and refusing to settle even when he’s fed and watered and pooped in all the senses of the word
He’s truly the best of all possible puppies
And Aaron is the best of all possible humans
Kind and patient and loving
I’m singing
I’m dancing
I'm writing
I’m learning to play piano
I'm learning to drive! On the right side of the road!
I'm exercising
I'm teaching
I'm remembering to breathe
I’m here.
- Published on
I'm tired
I'm overwhelmed by the fuckery
I'm tired of the othering and excluding and denying
I'm tired of American exceptionalism and America being the best at being the worst
Of broken bureaucracy and horrendous healthcare and guns and a never ending stream of violence
I'm tired of the pandemic
I want to go back to before
I want everything to change yesterday
I never want to deal with NJ Transit again
I want better options
I love our quiet town
I hate that it's bound by freeway and surrounded by ugly industry and full of literal trash that blows into our yard and is an eyesore and a risk for our dog
I'm tired of throw away culture
I'm tired of social media
I hate that the industry I worked so hard for
Dreamt so long about
Is toxic and vile and truly only accessible to the wealthy few
I'm tired of being scared I'm going to relapse
I'm tired of being afraid I'll end up back in hospital and this time alone
I'm tired of selfish fuckery and half the country ignoring, refusing to believe in, or understand science
I'm tired of people who don't wear masks or don't wear them properly
I'm tired of ignorance
I'm tired of bigotry and misogyny and the patriarchy
I'm tired of think pieces and opinion pieces and influencers
I'm tired of Hollywood
I'm tired of mirage and smoke and mirrors and pretense and illusion
I'm tired of celebrity
I'm tired of kindness being the exception
I'm tired of what is right being what is hard
I'm tired of banging my head against the wall because it doesn't have to be this way
I'm overwhelmed by the fuckery
I'm tired of the othering and excluding and denying
I'm tired of American exceptionalism and America being the best at being the worst
Of broken bureaucracy and horrendous healthcare and guns and a never ending stream of violence
I'm tired of the pandemic
I want to go back to before
I want everything to change yesterday
I never want to deal with NJ Transit again
I want better options
I love our quiet town
I hate that it's bound by freeway and surrounded by ugly industry and full of literal trash that blows into our yard and is an eyesore and a risk for our dog
I'm tired of throw away culture
I'm tired of social media
I hate that the industry I worked so hard for
Dreamt so long about
Is toxic and vile and truly only accessible to the wealthy few
I'm tired of being scared I'm going to relapse
I'm tired of being afraid I'll end up back in hospital and this time alone
I'm tired of selfish fuckery and half the country ignoring, refusing to believe in, or understand science
I'm tired of people who don't wear masks or don't wear them properly
I'm tired of ignorance
I'm tired of bigotry and misogyny and the patriarchy
I'm tired of think pieces and opinion pieces and influencers
I'm tired of Hollywood
I'm tired of mirage and smoke and mirrors and pretense and illusion
I'm tired of celebrity
I'm tired of kindness being the exception
I'm tired of what is right being what is hard
I'm tired of banging my head against the wall because it doesn't have to be this way
- Published on
Remember when all you wanted to do was sing and dance and act?
And then cancer
And recovery and waiting
And still more waiting and recovery
And then you are better
And you find yourself on
Monday
Meeting a new voice teacher and feeling seen and heard
Accessing parts of your voice you thought were lost forever
You sit with Alison in a coffee shop on the upper west side
And trade ideas and write and plan and write
You sit with the altos in chorus and learn Bizet’s Carmen
The deliciousness of the score
Tuesday
Dance class, “Dance for Movers”
Being outside your comfort zone but
Remembering that you love to dance
The joy of being challenged by a teacher
Who loves to share the joy of what they do with
A stern kindness that makes you want to be better
Coffee with Nick from London
How has it been over six years?!
Wednesday
Home with your love
A trip to the library
Puzzling
Working on projects
Thursday
Back to dance class
“Young Hearts Run Free”
You’re thirteen again and
Rehearsing in the dance studio at Kuringai
Young hearts
To yourself be true…
My mind must be free
To learn all I can about me
Over twenty years later
Your muscles remembering
Lunch with the Superhero posse
Bianca and Ruth
Fellow cancer survivors
Still in the thick of it
Coffee with Danni
The loveliness of seeing your friends glow
Class with John Tartaglia
Isn't it nice when your heroes are everything you hoped they'd be and more?
Warm and funny and down to earth
The power of laughter
The joy of sharing a room with immensely talented people
Friday
Class with David Brunetti
Acting through Song
Revisiting techniques from drama school
The meticulous satisfying work of it
Teaching a voice lesson
The language of music
Saturday
Double show day at Frozen
Getting paid to watch theatre
Getting paid to watch people experience their first Broadway show
The joy of it
Just another week in New York
Doing things you’ve always done
But new again
A different body
A new sense of purpose
How lucky I am to be here.
And then cancer
And recovery and waiting
And still more waiting and recovery
And then you are better
And you find yourself on
Monday
Meeting a new voice teacher and feeling seen and heard
Accessing parts of your voice you thought were lost forever
You sit with Alison in a coffee shop on the upper west side
And trade ideas and write and plan and write
You sit with the altos in chorus and learn Bizet’s Carmen
The deliciousness of the score
Tuesday
Dance class, “Dance for Movers”
Being outside your comfort zone but
Remembering that you love to dance
The joy of being challenged by a teacher
Who loves to share the joy of what they do with
A stern kindness that makes you want to be better
Coffee with Nick from London
How has it been over six years?!
Wednesday
Home with your love
A trip to the library
Puzzling
Working on projects
Thursday
Back to dance class
“Young Hearts Run Free”
You’re thirteen again and
Rehearsing in the dance studio at Kuringai
Young hearts
To yourself be true…
My mind must be free
To learn all I can about me
Over twenty years later
Your muscles remembering
Lunch with the Superhero posse
Bianca and Ruth
Fellow cancer survivors
Still in the thick of it
Coffee with Danni
The loveliness of seeing your friends glow
Class with John Tartaglia
Isn't it nice when your heroes are everything you hoped they'd be and more?
Warm and funny and down to earth
The power of laughter
The joy of sharing a room with immensely talented people
Friday
Class with David Brunetti
Acting through Song
Revisiting techniques from drama school
The meticulous satisfying work of it
Teaching a voice lesson
The language of music
Saturday
Double show day at Frozen
Getting paid to watch theatre
Getting paid to watch people experience their first Broadway show
The joy of it
Just another week in New York
Doing things you’ve always done
But new again
A different body
A new sense of purpose
How lucky I am to be here.
- Published on
In January
I did an agent showcase class
I felt seen and inspired and then
Disappointed
I taught voice, online and in person
Received coaching via skype
And worked on writing a play
I performed at Passport to Iron City
Saw Clueless and The Prom
And tried to remember to be kind to myself
I ran almost 60km (give or take with a buggy app)
In February
I got the flu
Continued performing at Iron City
Worked as a standardized patient and
Did a reading at Brooklyn College
I took classes online and
Started piano lessons with Juan
Rehearsed The Big C Cabaret
I ran even when I didn’t feel 100%
I danced to The Cat Empire with Aaron and Paul, and saw
The Ferryman, Gloria: A Life, and Merrily We Roll Along
I ran almost 44km
In March
I had anxiety
And tried to stay away from social media
I performed in Night Songs and Love Waltzes with MasterVoices
And rehearsed for Lady in the Dark and The Big C Cabaret
Passport to Iron City closed
I took a masterclass with a Broadway musical director
And more coaching
I had a three hour lunch with Ann, my high school music teacher
Ran 81km
Saw Owl Girl, My Fair Lady, and Alice by Heart
In April
I learnt to read the instructions when you’re not tired and
Not to put on a cabaret on a Sunday at 4pm
We drove to Maryland to celebrate a new baby in the family
I performed in Lady in the Dark at City Center and
Worked as a standardized patient
I sent out a newsletter
And took audition yoga
I ran the Queens Marathon and was 8 minutes off doing it in 6 hours
We went to tenant court and fumed at the broken systems
Ralph, Anna, Eric, Tara, Jason, and Tonya, helped me surprise Aaron for his birthday
I saw Kiss Me, Kate, Come from Away, Beetlejuice, and Tootsie
Joined Gilda’s Club and
Ran a little over 89km
In May
Aaron and I ran the Brooklyn Half together
My third half, Aaron’s first
I played flute in an audition for the first time
And booked the gig
I worked as a standardized patient and
Joined a musical theatre book club and sang Marta in Company
I took piano lessons and went to
The Central reunion where they spent the whole time promoting the school
I saw Oklahoma, Waitress, Frankie and Johnny, and Mairi’s show "More About the Melody: Rodgers and Co" at Birdland
I devoured Figurings by Maria Popova, Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez
I ran almost 60km
In June
I cried when we moved to Carteret, NJ
Felt pulled away from the city I love
We joined the fancy gym and
Discovered Primark no longer stocks good basics
I performed in Felt Left Out and my heart was happy
I struggled at work
I saw Hadestown, The Cher Show, Into the Woods Snr, What the Constitution Means to Me, Doug Varone Dancers, and Working
And Stephen Sondheim with Jason Robert Brown
We got eaten alive camping at Cheesequake State Park and
I ran close to 54km
In July
I had good auditions and no bookings
I ran just over 41km
Took songwriting and scene writing classes at Gilda’s Club
Had my face painted at the farmer’s market
We spent time with the Rabinowii and had
Dinner with friends
I spent hours booking medical appointments
I saw In the Green, What the Constitution Means to Me, and Lady Ship
In August
We traveled a lot and
Ran a little
We spent a week in North Carolina with the Goodmans
And two weeks in Oz
I booked a Christmas gig
We saw Bat Out of Hell and Muriel’s Wedding
In September
I tried to limit my use of social media
We celebrated my 35th birthday
With afternoon tea at Alice’s Teacup
And a feminist fireside chat on Simone de Beauvoir
I spent a glorious weekend in Rochester
And ran the marathon on a 30ºC/90F day
All up I ran 99km for the month
I observed a masterclass with Des McAnuff and took a
Drop-in improv class at Actors Launchpad
Made a costume for the Ren Faire and
Devoured Becoming Beauvoir by Kate Kirkpatrick, Gentleman Jack by Anne Choma, and Channel of Peace by Kevin Tuerff
Watched the livestreams of Golden Bricks and Ruby Shoes and Fleabag
I felt exhausted and not good enough
In October
I started rehearsals for The Polar Express
I felt challenged and at home
I tried to stay off social media and failed
Felt stuck financially
Felt not good enough
Started work on a documentary script with friends
We went to the Ren Faire as a fairy and an imp
I went to the St James Halloween party dressed as Olaf taken over by the spirit of Electra
Spent time with friends
Felt drained and emotional from putting together a timeline for The Patient Story
Meditated
Saw Bella Bella with Harvey Fierstein and
Ran almost 30km
In November
I ran my 5th marathon
On the 5th anniversary of my stem cell transplant
I learnt you should always take your water bottle and iPad to set and that
Marathon training is excellent training for 5-show days
I had to have dental fillings for the first time
The debilitating effects of chemo on my teeth
I sang in Let ‘Em Eat Cake at Carnegie Hall and saw
Slave Play, Lightning Thief, and Half Life of Marie Curie
The Barbra exhibit with Ella
I read Walt Whitman and Virginia Woolf
Stayed in Manhattan with David and Katherine for an easier commute
Sat with depression and
Made pasta from scratch
In December
We watched the live capture of SpongeBob: The Musical
I sang and danced on The Polar Express
And never wanted it to end
We drove to Richmond
To ring out the year with Jesse and Brenda
In between
I spent hours and hours finding new doctors for follow-up care
And dealing with NJ Transit and
Sitting in the lobbies of Manhattan hotels
Reading, writing, scrolling, and waiting for my bus
I had coffees with friends at Bird & Branch on West 45th
I ushered at the St James and
Sang with MasterVoices
At home we cooked curries and noodles and pulled pork and roasts
We walked to the water
We watched Big Mouth and Bojack, Jane and Schitt’s Creek, Fleabag, Succession, The Crown, The Wire, The Politician and Pose, Last Week Tonight, Years and Years, and Gentleman Jack
We ranted at unfair broken systems
Housing and medical and political and financial
I skyped with loved ones in Sydney and London
I wrote morning pages almost every day
And meditated and gave thanks
Some days I played piano
And a little flute
There were moments of lovely
Performing professionally
Travel
Seeing shows
Spending time with my love
And many moments of frustration
The struggle of being an actor in NYC
Wanting to do it full-time
Wanting to be seen, to be heard
Wishing the world were kinder and calmer
So much of the year
Has felt like
Climbing uphill
Are we at the summit yet?
How do we get there
From here?
I did an agent showcase class
I felt seen and inspired and then
Disappointed
I taught voice, online and in person
Received coaching via skype
And worked on writing a play
I performed at Passport to Iron City
Saw Clueless and The Prom
And tried to remember to be kind to myself
I ran almost 60km (give or take with a buggy app)
In February
I got the flu
Continued performing at Iron City
Worked as a standardized patient and
Did a reading at Brooklyn College
I took classes online and
Started piano lessons with Juan
Rehearsed The Big C Cabaret
I ran even when I didn’t feel 100%
I danced to The Cat Empire with Aaron and Paul, and saw
The Ferryman, Gloria: A Life, and Merrily We Roll Along
I ran almost 44km
In March
I had anxiety
And tried to stay away from social media
I performed in Night Songs and Love Waltzes with MasterVoices
And rehearsed for Lady in the Dark and The Big C Cabaret
Passport to Iron City closed
I took a masterclass with a Broadway musical director
And more coaching
I had a three hour lunch with Ann, my high school music teacher
Ran 81km
Saw Owl Girl, My Fair Lady, and Alice by Heart
In April
I learnt to read the instructions when you’re not tired and
Not to put on a cabaret on a Sunday at 4pm
We drove to Maryland to celebrate a new baby in the family
I performed in Lady in the Dark at City Center and
Worked as a standardized patient
I sent out a newsletter
And took audition yoga
I ran the Queens Marathon and was 8 minutes off doing it in 6 hours
We went to tenant court and fumed at the broken systems
Ralph, Anna, Eric, Tara, Jason, and Tonya, helped me surprise Aaron for his birthday
I saw Kiss Me, Kate, Come from Away, Beetlejuice, and Tootsie
Joined Gilda’s Club and
Ran a little over 89km
In May
Aaron and I ran the Brooklyn Half together
My third half, Aaron’s first
I played flute in an audition for the first time
And booked the gig
I worked as a standardized patient and
Joined a musical theatre book club and sang Marta in Company
I took piano lessons and went to
The Central reunion where they spent the whole time promoting the school
I saw Oklahoma, Waitress, Frankie and Johnny, and Mairi’s show "More About the Melody: Rodgers and Co" at Birdland
I devoured Figurings by Maria Popova, Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez
I ran almost 60km
In June
I cried when we moved to Carteret, NJ
Felt pulled away from the city I love
We joined the fancy gym and
Discovered Primark no longer stocks good basics
I performed in Felt Left Out and my heart was happy
I struggled at work
I saw Hadestown, The Cher Show, Into the Woods Snr, What the Constitution Means to Me, Doug Varone Dancers, and Working
And Stephen Sondheim with Jason Robert Brown
We got eaten alive camping at Cheesequake State Park and
I ran close to 54km
In July
I had good auditions and no bookings
I ran just over 41km
Took songwriting and scene writing classes at Gilda’s Club
Had my face painted at the farmer’s market
We spent time with the Rabinowii and had
Dinner with friends
I spent hours booking medical appointments
I saw In the Green, What the Constitution Means to Me, and Lady Ship
In August
We traveled a lot and
Ran a little
We spent a week in North Carolina with the Goodmans
And two weeks in Oz
I booked a Christmas gig
We saw Bat Out of Hell and Muriel’s Wedding
In September
I tried to limit my use of social media
We celebrated my 35th birthday
With afternoon tea at Alice’s Teacup
And a feminist fireside chat on Simone de Beauvoir
I spent a glorious weekend in Rochester
And ran the marathon on a 30ºC/90F day
All up I ran 99km for the month
I observed a masterclass with Des McAnuff and took a
Drop-in improv class at Actors Launchpad
Made a costume for the Ren Faire and
Devoured Becoming Beauvoir by Kate Kirkpatrick, Gentleman Jack by Anne Choma, and Channel of Peace by Kevin Tuerff
Watched the livestreams of Golden Bricks and Ruby Shoes and Fleabag
I felt exhausted and not good enough
In October
I started rehearsals for The Polar Express
I felt challenged and at home
I tried to stay off social media and failed
Felt stuck financially
Felt not good enough
Started work on a documentary script with friends
We went to the Ren Faire as a fairy and an imp
I went to the St James Halloween party dressed as Olaf taken over by the spirit of Electra
Spent time with friends
Felt drained and emotional from putting together a timeline for The Patient Story
Meditated
Saw Bella Bella with Harvey Fierstein and
Ran almost 30km
In November
I ran my 5th marathon
On the 5th anniversary of my stem cell transplant
I learnt you should always take your water bottle and iPad to set and that
Marathon training is excellent training for 5-show days
I had to have dental fillings for the first time
The debilitating effects of chemo on my teeth
I sang in Let ‘Em Eat Cake at Carnegie Hall and saw
Slave Play, Lightning Thief, and Half Life of Marie Curie
The Barbra exhibit with Ella
I read Walt Whitman and Virginia Woolf
Stayed in Manhattan with David and Katherine for an easier commute
Sat with depression and
Made pasta from scratch
In December
We watched the live capture of SpongeBob: The Musical
I sang and danced on The Polar Express
And never wanted it to end
We drove to Richmond
To ring out the year with Jesse and Brenda
In between
I spent hours and hours finding new doctors for follow-up care
And dealing with NJ Transit and
Sitting in the lobbies of Manhattan hotels
Reading, writing, scrolling, and waiting for my bus
I had coffees with friends at Bird & Branch on West 45th
I ushered at the St James and
Sang with MasterVoices
At home we cooked curries and noodles and pulled pork and roasts
We walked to the water
We watched Big Mouth and Bojack, Jane and Schitt’s Creek, Fleabag, Succession, The Crown, The Wire, The Politician and Pose, Last Week Tonight, Years and Years, and Gentleman Jack
We ranted at unfair broken systems
Housing and medical and political and financial
I skyped with loved ones in Sydney and London
I wrote morning pages almost every day
And meditated and gave thanks
Some days I played piano
And a little flute
There were moments of lovely
Performing professionally
Travel
Seeing shows
Spending time with my love
And many moments of frustration
The struggle of being an actor in NYC
Wanting to do it full-time
Wanting to be seen, to be heard
Wishing the world were kinder and calmer
So much of the year
Has felt like
Climbing uphill
Are we at the summit yet?
How do we get there
From here?
- Published on
I didn’t grow up with the book or the movie
My friend Bryan had done it last year
I saw the open call and thought it would be fun
A lovely audition, a friendly room
I was so excited to be cast
Rehearsals
Full-time for a week
Singing and dancing
And learning a show
That happened in 6 different train cars
At the same time
“Broadway on a train!”
The joy of director Scott Calcagno
Tech and dress
Theatre on a moving train
Chugging through suburban New Jersey
Arriving at “The North Pole”
With its giant sleigh, reindeer and
Arctic cold weather
Sharing a carriage with
Alice and Jake
The sweetest cart-ners in the world
Embossing tickets
Making it snow
Singing “We Need a Little Christmas”
Especially poignant on the day of Jerry Herman’s death
Becoming a chef and dancing in the aisle
With trays of hot chocolate
Families wearing matching pajamas
Decorated with candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees
Light up hats and
Gorgeous ugly sweaters
Parents and children
Aunts and uncles
Grandmas and grandpas
Siblings and cousins
The surly teenagers who always melted into the magic
Walking through the train to
Switch sides
Seeing the other cast members work their magic
All of them lovely and talented and funny
The production car
Where all the theatre magic happens
Joel or Becki at the stage manager console
Alex on lights
Mary or Olivia on sound
Lauren or Emily on costumes
Abigale on props
Meri the production manager
Nick and Nickie in Front of House
Engineers Chuck and Matt
The EMTs
The other elves, Maria and Anna and Anna
David and Jim
Swing nation: Bryan and Steph
Always ready and willing
The racks of costumes for 72 people
Swaying perilously as we crossed the threshold
To the North Pole
Becoming an elf
Anna running with the bells
“Attention please, attention Polar Express passengers!
Someone very special is here to meet you!”
Lights brighten, music swells
The arrival of Santa!
The utter delight on people’s faces
Especially the older folks
Transforming into 5-year-olds before my eyes
Seeing is believing
Traveling through each car
“Are you a real elf?”
The child who sobbed after Santa gave them a bell
(“Right off Santa’s sleigh!”)
“It’s just so magical!”
The guy who asked me if Santa could pay off his mortgage this year
The babies who smiled
The babies who shied away
The kids who asked if I knew their Elf on the Shelf
The kids who brought their Elf on the Shelf in mason jars
Telling passengers that the safest place for their cookies
Was in their bellies
Surprise hugs from little ones
The sugar high from hot chocolate and cookies
The excitement from meeting Santa
A few days at the North Pole
Allie and Jenna making sure we got there in plenty of time
Dancing in the freezing cold
(My group got lucky
We never had to dance in the rain)
The relative ease of three show days
The long marathons of five show days
Eating sandwiches and burritos and cookies and chips
Snacking in between shows to maintain energy
Staying cool, keeping warm
Hanging out with some of the loveliest people
Being a part of something uplifting
A magic carpet on a rail
That never takes a rest
A joyful, magical time
The true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart
For all who truly believe.
My friend Bryan had done it last year
I saw the open call and thought it would be fun
A lovely audition, a friendly room
I was so excited to be cast
Rehearsals
Full-time for a week
Singing and dancing
And learning a show
That happened in 6 different train cars
At the same time
“Broadway on a train!”
The joy of director Scott Calcagno
Tech and dress
Theatre on a moving train
Chugging through suburban New Jersey
Arriving at “The North Pole”
With its giant sleigh, reindeer and
Arctic cold weather
Sharing a carriage with
Alice and Jake
The sweetest cart-ners in the world
Embossing tickets
Making it snow
Singing “We Need a Little Christmas”
Especially poignant on the day of Jerry Herman’s death
Becoming a chef and dancing in the aisle
With trays of hot chocolate
Families wearing matching pajamas
Decorated with candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees
Light up hats and
Gorgeous ugly sweaters
Parents and children
Aunts and uncles
Grandmas and grandpas
Siblings and cousins
The surly teenagers who always melted into the magic
Walking through the train to
Switch sides
Seeing the other cast members work their magic
All of them lovely and talented and funny
The production car
Where all the theatre magic happens
Joel or Becki at the stage manager console
Alex on lights
Mary or Olivia on sound
Lauren or Emily on costumes
Abigale on props
Meri the production manager
Nick and Nickie in Front of House
Engineers Chuck and Matt
The EMTs
The other elves, Maria and Anna and Anna
David and Jim
Swing nation: Bryan and Steph
Always ready and willing
The racks of costumes for 72 people
Swaying perilously as we crossed the threshold
To the North Pole
Becoming an elf
Anna running with the bells
“Attention please, attention Polar Express passengers!
Someone very special is here to meet you!”
Lights brighten, music swells
The arrival of Santa!
The utter delight on people’s faces
Especially the older folks
Transforming into 5-year-olds before my eyes
Seeing is believing
Traveling through each car
“Are you a real elf?”
The child who sobbed after Santa gave them a bell
(“Right off Santa’s sleigh!”)
“It’s just so magical!”
The guy who asked me if Santa could pay off his mortgage this year
The babies who smiled
The babies who shied away
The kids who asked if I knew their Elf on the Shelf
The kids who brought their Elf on the Shelf in mason jars
Telling passengers that the safest place for their cookies
Was in their bellies
Surprise hugs from little ones
The sugar high from hot chocolate and cookies
The excitement from meeting Santa
A few days at the North Pole
Allie and Jenna making sure we got there in plenty of time
Dancing in the freezing cold
(My group got lucky
We never had to dance in the rain)
The relative ease of three show days
The long marathons of five show days
Eating sandwiches and burritos and cookies and chips
Snacking in between shows to maintain energy
Staying cool, keeping warm
Hanging out with some of the loveliest people
Being a part of something uplifting
A magic carpet on a rail
That never takes a rest
A joyful, magical time
The true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart
For all who truly believe.
