Writer's Diary
3/30/26
Very hungover after the last days of downtown preview of the weekend, last night, Sunday.
The show’s been really wonderful on stage; I feel like I did when Over the Moon opened in late August—like the work has saved me from my life, or saved me from myself.
There’s relief in representing internal and social conflict rather than living it.
At the same time that the play is on its way, I have to return to the process of self-development and self-recreation and soul-editing that, in my mind, began in late 2024 and has never really stopped (propelled by a series of crises, private crises and events that I couldn’t really foresee).
The past year and a half has been, at times, amazing and at times unbearable. Good and bad seem to be chasing after each other like kids playing tag on the schoolyard.
Spring is here. The air is sweet. I could start running in Central Park every day without getting all bundled up, but just a few weeks ago there was a foot of snow on the ground, bodies of water were frozen. Trees are starting to bud. Easter is approaching. Christ Conscious is rising through the world like sap.
My psyche wants so badly to live in a world of security. It longs to weave an aura of instability around itself. It is the surest, continuous love. My reality, I know, is daunting you and frightening you. To let love do its work doesn’t mean to do something bigger than yourself.