I write to make sense of life,
To share who I am and what I have experienced,
To take the crazy bits and laugh at them,
And cry a little over them,
And sit together around a table in an empty theater
And talk to other artists about how we can make the story real,
How we can overcome obstacles of time and space
And two huge columns that will definitely interrupt sight lines.
And then months later, to sit in the dark with strangers
And share that magical something we created together,
That all started with an idea
That dropped down to me while out on a walk
Late one morning in early fall,
Or while in the shower,
Or sitting here alone at my desk. Like now.