​Don’t meet your heroes
They say
But what if
One chilly winter’s day
You do meet your hero
The Drew Barrymore
Star of the screen and
Descendent of theatre royalty
A woman who
You have watched literally hundreds of times
On repeat

And she takes the time
During her busy show
To hear your story
That you loved Ever After
That you had leukemia
That your sister was your stem cell donor
(In the moment you actually said bone marrow donor
You’ve never used that phrase before
Oh tongue tied brain!)
And suddenly Drew is sitting right beside you
Holding your hand
And staring into your soul
With her magical sparkly eyes
And telling you about light and mirrors and reflecting back what we see
And you think “ohmygod I’m going to have a heart attack”

And your sister
Who was right beside you
For hundreds of those viewings
Is sitting beside you
And Drew asks her for advice on how to be sisters
Because she is raising two daughters
And you and your sister laugh
Because even that very morning you were incredibly annoyed with each other
Although now you’ve learned not to pull each other’s hair out
(At least not physically)
And your sister says,
“We fought every day as kids!
You have to learn to listen to each other.”
Haha, funny now
Look at us now
Sitting here in matching red tones
With our long hair and smiling faces
Mum’s work friends wonder if you’re twins
(My god that made you crazy when you were younger
I’m older)

How many times have you watched
Those magical sparkly eyes
Playing Danielle de Barbarac
And you think what was it about that film that moved you so?
The costumes!
The script!
The cinematography (the shot where Danielle realizes something has happened to her father)!
The fact that Danielle is a book-loving girl who is
Good at sports (apple throwing, running, climbing trees, swimming in rivers, mud wrestling, sword fighting)
Adept at homesteading (growing food, foraging for truffles, bread baking, bee keeping), and
Unafraid to speak truth to power (saving loved ones and quarreling with royalty)
Whose bestie is an effeminate male artist
Whose fairy godmother is Leonardo da Vinci (who builds flying machines and walks on water)
All while wearing pretty frocks and princess hair
And she has wings!
And battles with Angelica Houston
And survives childhood trauma
In a world where conundrums are solved with a quick game of rock paper scissors
Where you can punch a rotten stepsister in the face and she gets her comeuppance in a vat of purple dye
Where you can save the prince from the bandits
Where you can go to the ruins at Amboise
Where chocolate is a savored novelty
Where you rescue yourself from the lecherous baddie
Where the prince realizes he has been a pig headed idiot
And, even though you’re just a working girl who pretended to be fancy
He chooses you because of who you are at your core
A book-loving girl who is good at sports and homesteading and speaking her tongue
In 16th century France
Accompanied by a gorgeous George Fenton score
And where the whole entire point (gentlemen)
Is just to LIVE

But in the moment of sitting next to
Drew Freaking ET-Ever-After-Josie-Grosie-Charlie’s-Angels Barrymore
You can’t articulate all of this
So you show her your “breathe, just breathe” tattoo
Your childhood love and grown-up life’s motto
Inked into your left wrist
And Drew loses her mind because
She also has a “breathe” tattoo on her left arm
And she takes the time to take a photo
And she is so kind and warm and empathetic
And days later
You still can’t process it all
It must have been a dream
Or a fairytale
And you are thankful thankful thankful
That your hero was everything you’d hoped and more
And you head out into the cold winter's afternoon
With a glowing heart
Ready for the next adventure.

Sometimes you see a play
That cracks you open
Leaves you sobbing in the aisles
The story of a woman
Trying to know her mother
Know and understand the
Person she was
Before she was
Mom
When she was
A young woman starting a
Consciousness raising group
In the basement of an Ohio gym
In 1970
Before no fault divorce
Before women were allowed to have their own bank accounts
Before marriage equality
Before the narrator’s existence
And trying to understand the question
Was it worth it for her mom
To have kids?

In the second act
I could hear the
Sniffles and sobs
Of people around me
Sitting in the dark
Undergoing a collective catharsis
The extraordinary ability of a well-written,
Well-executed play
To provide a place for healing
For processing
For saying out loud
We need to do better
For women

At the end of the play
I couldn’t face going home
There were too many feelings
Too many thoughts to process
So I walked up to Rockefeller
And admired at the tree
And even though it was freezing
I walked down Fifth Avenue
All the way to 59th
And the lights sparkled
For the little child
Within

I arrived in the US
Twelve years ago today
It’s strange to think of that person
Landing in the freezing cold at Denver Airport
Clutching a folder thick with immigration paperwork
Feeling excited and scared about the next adventure

In the twelve years since
I’ve been married and divorced
Survived cancer
Had my heart broken
Lost two grandparents
Lost six friends to cancer
Been in two choirs
Moved 7 times across 3 states
Lived with 5 different people
And survived NJ Transit

I’ve worked a lot of jobs
Second-hand bookshop and farm volunteer
Babysitter
Receptionist atop fancy glass towers
Broadway usher
Teacher
Vocal coach
Writer
Actor
Fake patient
Stage manager
Director
Podcast editor, and an
Operations/staff assistant

I’ve done the Artist’s Way twice and
Built Filmed Live Musicals
Written and performed a cabaret
Written a book chapter 
Spent hours in the archives at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts 
Performed in Colorado, New Jersey, and New York
In plays, musicals, and immersive shows
Seen a show in every Broadway house
Taken class at Broadway Dance Center
Played flute and ukulele and piano

I’ve run, quite a bit
All around Fort Collins
Brooklyn, West New York,
Astoria, and Harlem
6 marathons
4 half marathons
And a handful of races

I’ve traveled to Acadia State Park and Atlanta
Salem and Boston and Washington DC
Traipsed around Connecticut
Honeymooned in the British Virgin Islands
Did a road trip from FoCo to New York
I’ve been back to Australia three times
And London once

I’ve frequented farmers markets
And made my own yogurt
Grown arugula and spinach and basil and chives
Strawberries and raspberries

I helped raise a sweet and ridiculous floof of a puppy
Learned Spanish and Danish
Learned to bake cheesecake
Learned to manage my depression

I grew my hair out again
Started eating meat again
Started morning pages again
Got my first tattoo
Tried contact lenses and
Finally got my drivers license

I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest
I’ve been held and taken care of and spoilt rotten
I’ve met, and become friends with, some of the most extraordinary and beautiful people
From FoCo, Brooklyn, Carteret, Astoria, and Harlem
MSK, front of house, MasterVoices, SP land, and, of course
Buck’s Rock

And today, on the anniversary of my moving here
I performed a two show day
With a group of people whom I utterly adore
With a lead actor whose cast albums I have listened to on repeat
In a rarely performed musical by a composer whose work inspired my life path
With friends in the audience

And tomorrow I’ll direct a musical with a cast of sweet and precocious kidlets
And the next day I’ll start rehearsals for a new project with MasterVoices
And I think
It’s taken twelve years, but I’m finally doing the thing I came here to do
It just took a little cancer, divorce, gestures-at-the-world-in-2025 detour to get here

I think about what I want from the next chapter
To live on my own
To travel, and keep exploring my glorious city
To visit all the museums
To fill my days with music and theatre and writing
And delicious food
And time with friends
And glorious books
To keep tripping the light fantastic
And being so very thankful
That despite *everything* (again, gestures-at-the-world-in-2025)
I’m here.

​I didn’t know singing in a cemetery while watching two Brits lug stone and ice and fire was on my bucket list
But here we are
How to explain this transcendent experience
That even days later I’m still processing
The magic of it
The meditative-ness of it
The rareness of it
The extraordinary nature of it

MasterVoices were the guests of
Kaleider’s Arch
A performance piece that has been done around the world
And this weekend was to be performed at
Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn
We rehearsed on Friday night
Learned all the elements of
Verity Standen’s gorgeous music
The revelation when she said
It doesn’t matter if the pitch drops
“That’s the human voice isn’t it?” she said
That’s the human voice!
And she said it didn’t matter if we made different vowel sounds
Because different vowels sound and feel different in individual voices
And wow, what a relief it was to hear that!
It’s not to say I don’t love the discipline that’s usually expected of the chorus
But it was so freeing to just SING
I floated home from rehearsal

The Saturday show was canceled
Due to inclement weather
Damn those weather gods!
But it made showing up on Sunday
All the more exciting
We rehearsed in the afternoon
Had dinner on the grass
A peak Victorian activity
In the midst of life we are--
My friends arrived
Ella, Miles, Opus, Emma, Heidi, and Molly
And somewhere in the crowd, my roomie Artur
Friends from very different parts of my life
UNSW, the Theatre Royal, Buck’s Rock, SP land, and NYC
All sitting together on the hill behind me
It was overwhelming and dizzying and wonderful

At dusk
The audience and the chorus
Sat among the gravestones
Lenny Bernstein up the hill
(Earlier, a number of us made a little pilgrimage to pay our respects
His grave is blink and you miss it
Not at all what you’d expect for one of the musical giants of the 20th century)
And witnessed the building of an arch
Out of stone and ice
A fire was fed in a metal drum
While 5 glorious singers intoned
The elemental nature of it
Water, earth, fire, and breath
Brick by brick and block by block, it was
Quite something to watch these two men haul the building blocks
While we all sat there and watched
Could we have gotten up to help?
Why do they do all the work while we just sit there?

At first the arch didn’t quite come together
It took a few goes of moving stones in and out
And readjusting and hammering
Before they took the wooden former out
The audience broke into applause when the arch stood on its own
Then Seth dragged the fire underneath
And the voices sang and intoned and rose and fell
And the ice slowly melted
It felt like we might sit there forever
Then the arch suddenly collapsed
The singing faded away
And the audience and the chorus, without guidance,
Gathered around the fire
It doesn’t get more primal than that
Humans gathering around a fire
To tell stories
Like moths to a--
As we did, the clouds parted to reveal (I kid you not),
A full moon

It was a meditation
It was immersive theatre
It was civilization and humanity and human endeavor
Everything we build will crumble
Everything we know matters
Nothing is important
What we do is vital
What we do is irrelevant
What we do is -

To quote Ali Smith
remember you must live
remember|you|most|love
remainder|you|mist|leaf
To witness it, experience it, be a part of it
I am thankful thankful thankful

​I am beside myself with glee
The re-discovery of purpose
Of coming back to myself
Doing the thing I came here to do
The thing I left the comfort and safety of Australia for
Singing and dancing and art-ing and
Tripping the light fantastic
THIS is what feels right
This is what feels good
I thought I’d lost it
Between cancer and living far from the city and divorce and heart break and not doing the thing(s)
But I’ve been doing my morning mmm’s
Morning pages, meditation, movement
And soaking up the last remnants of delicious summer
And tonight hearing British voices
Leading vocal warm-ups
Took me right back to Central
BA ba ba ba ba ba baaa!
CA ca ca ca ca ca caaa!
Vocalizing, loose shoulders, stretch to the side and feel your ribs pop pop POP!
Tummy breaths, activate the diaphragm
HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA
Poke out your tongue
Feel ridiculous
Feel glorious!
It’s all delicious!
The missing of it
The living it of it
The loving of it
The returning to it
Back to self
The world may be a dumpster fire of hell
But there still is music
There still is art
There still is sky
And earth
And breath
Take it in and --

Even though it was in black and white, and quite grainy
It was an emotional experience
Realizing that the dancers were just a few years older than Mum
Seeing the embodied dancers of voices I’ve listened to on repeat since I was 10.
It still amazes me that the stories of dancers in New York could resonate with a 10-year-old living 10,000 miles away.
That incredible Marvin Hamlisch score
Hearing the audience hear it for the first time.
Imagine being able to see A Chorus Line for the first time?
Remember seeing A Chorus Line for the first time?!
Remember being 10
Remember taking ballet lessons
Remember tights and leotards and having your hair in a bun and hair nets and hair pins and hairspray
Remember ballet shoes and cross over wraps
Remember practise shoes and the pretty satin shoes 
Remember the smell of the studio
Remember being awed and intimidated by the older girls 
Remember wishing you were an older girl 
Remember dancing in the living room and the light was your spotlight
(How did you know about spotlights?)
Remember the rush of joy.  

When you spend a sunny late spring afternoon
Hanging out in Central Park
In a shady spot beneath tall trees
With a lovely group of folks
Some you’ve known for a few years now
Others you just met today
And you eat pizza and cookies and candy
And chat about theatre and shows and Beyonce
And tie-dye clothes with brightly colored ink
You feel like you are five again
In the best possible way
And you head home
With a heart full of light.

I had a wish
To live in a place
Where I could eat breathe and sleep theatre
Talk about theatre all day long
Immerse myself in a world of musicals and plays and art
And how do you know what you want til you get what you want and you see if you like it?
Well I’m here
And pardon my French
But I fucking love it
I’ve had the most excellent fortune
To see literally hundreds of shows
And it never gets old
The thrill of walking into a theatre
And wondering what magic awaits
To be handed your playbill
And rifling through the names
Oh I remember her from -
I loved them in -
And increasingly
Having had the pleasure of actually working the people on the stage and behind the scenes
Going to the Performing Arts Library to watch archival recordings on a weekly basis
If my sixteen year old self could see me now!

​I spent the day at Buck’s Rock
Giving a tour in the rain
To new campers and their families
Trying to convey the magic
That happens in the summer
And then I made my way
All the way to BAM
The Brooklyn Academy of Music
To see Suleika Jaouad
Fellow AML survivor and
Journal writer who is
Undergoing her third round of treatment and is
Currently on the New York stop of her book tour

It wasn’t until I was sitting down in my seat
That it occurred to me
BAM was the place where I had my first job post-cancer
I didn’t work there for long
I had gone back to work too soon
I didn’t have the stamina to make it through a shift
But I was desperate to get back to normal
I had to ask for permission to sit down during the show
Another usher saw me and scolded,
“We’re not allowed to sit.”
I wanted to say
“I just had cancer.
I had a transplant.
I can’t stand for long periods.”
Instead I pretended I hadn’t heard her and
Fought back tears.

And now I’m nearly 11 years out.
How did I get so lucky to be here?
When Ruth is gone?
When Miguel is gone?
When Katy is gone?
When Miren is gone?
When Suleika has relapsed twice and is likely to be in treatment for the rest of her life?
Watching her standing up on that stage
Looking absolutely radiant in a bright and colorful dress with a thin gold belt
Her pixie hair sleek against her head
Reading her extraordinary words about fear of mice and cancer and treatment
While her husband, Jon Batiste
Played on the piano behind her
The love between them
The way they seem so grounded
So in touch
So in love

It broke my heart a little
The longing for a creative, spiritual, loving partner
Someone
To traipse across this mortal coil with
The heartbreak of tasting it
And having it taken away
Because I’m not enough?
Because it’s not the right time?
Because of so many factors out of my control
The fear of relapse
The fear of being ok
The fear of having what you want
The fear that you will never fulfill your dreams
Reach your potential
Do the thing you came here to do because
Illness
Pandemic
Politics
Global warming

And it wasn’t until I was on the train home
That I realized that I’d spent the day at camp
(The place where I was diagnosed)
And not once thought about getting sick
I was too busy being excited about the summer to come
Thinking about my to do list
Chatting with the new campers

The day was full of synchronicity
Old camp friends messaging out of the blue as I arrived at camp
Being at camp on the day of Suleika’s New York book tour
The New York stop being at BAM
On a rainy day  
​At the end of April 
Something magical 
Alchemy
From the French, Latin, Greek, and Arabic 
"The pursuit of the transmutation of baser metals into gold,
Search for the universal solvent and the panacea."

​Walking to Hudson Yards
On a chilly New York evening 
Turning the corner
And being surprised 
By a festival of fairy lights
The trees all decked out with miniature bulbs 
The walls of the mall glittering golden light and 
Miniature hot air balloons rising out of the concourse
And around the corner
An installation of light bulbs and wood
Fashioned to look like a bonfire 
The delight of places for people to sit
And eat
And watch