i love words.

And I love punctuation, and I love structures of sentences and phrases, too. I’m interested in all the things they can do—and in all the ways they fall short.

And.

I can never quite get away from the sound. I’ve spent decades at theatre rehearsals, and I love words the way a theatre-maker loves words. I want the plosives to pop, the pitches to take you on a journey, the spaces to hold you still for just a moment. Or longer.

So I write words to be read out loud. It’s not quite spoken word. It’s not a play.

I do love the big, bold statements that get our attention with their fireworks and sheer size—the book, the opus, the masterwork. Yes, of course I love those.

But these days, I’m obsessed with the tiny projects. The small acts of committing a person to paper and sharing that. Maybe in real handwriting. Eventually out loud.

I’m interested in the way those small and tiny creations add up. In each of those parts and the sum of those parts. I’m interested, from way back, in the way ritual shows up in our lives. I’m interested, since forever, in people and their stories.

Deeper than that, I’m most interested in our shared humanity, in the fact that I love you, even if we’ve never met.

You are not alone, and neither am I.

And I make art to remind you and to remind me of that over and over again.