Oh hello. WTF. I am currently in Los Angeles having the most important professional experience of my entire career.   Let me say that again,...

  No words. Because *every last word I could ever have*, is in those pages.  Day 1. Let’s go. Och aye.    John Steinbeck wrote a letter to h...

What I’ve come to understand (slowly, reluctantly, and with the emotional elegance of a rabid possum trapped inside a Panera) is that I f...

There is cold, and then there is New-York-waiting-for-the-above-ground-N-train-in-deepest-February cold.   Ah yes! Welcome back you vicious...

From "All I Need is the Girl" with Robyn Hurder ‘ALL I NEED IS THE GIRL’ – 2026 There aren’t words to express what it meant to be...

There are certain nights in the theatre that feel less like performances and more like communal acts of remembrance. Broadway Backwards has ...

I have long believed that adulthood is poorly organized. Not in the broad philosophical sense—we’ve always known life is chaos—but in a cust...

Mirror selfie at the Four Seasons Last week, I was a VIP guest at the St. Andrews Society of Los Angeles for Robert Burns Night at the Four ...

This year, my dear friend Katie Spelman; my artistic soulmate, and my “whyfe”(as we call one another, with deep gratitude to my actual husba...

     At the end of 2024, I was cooked. Fully crispy, charred artist-on-a-spit. Four major surgeries in four years, disillusioned, gaslit by ...

September has a smell—the faintest tang of sharpened pencils, apple skins, and air that is juuuuust beginning to cool. After the looseness ...