Not just a song. A question I've been asking myself for thirty something years.

I'm a theatre artist, teaching artist, poet, and assisted stretching practitioner based in Austin, TX. I hold a BFA in Musical Theatre from the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, where I first found my way into devised and ensemble work through Pig Iron Theatre Company, one of the country's leading physical theatre ensembles. That experience planted something that has never stopped growing.

I currently work as a Teaching Artist and Story Wrangler at The Paramount Theatre, bringing creative writing and storytelling into Title I schools and watching third graders discover they have something worth saying. I am also a fellow in MindPop's Emerging Teaching Artist Fellowship, a cohort of educators who believe art does something in a person that nothing else can. I perform regularly across Central Texas and this month I open as Pontius Pilate in Jesus Christ Superstar at Georgetown Palace Theatre, a role that demands an alarming amount of screaming, which it turns out suits me just fine.

I also work one on one with clients as an assisted stretching practitioner, helping people find more ease in their bodies and more room to just be in them. It is the same work I do everywhere else, just without the words.

And that is where something like that comes in. something like that exists because there are things worth feeling and not enough rooms built for them. The workshop uses movement, action, and expression as entry points because the body is something we all have, and it almost always knows where to start.

Every character I inhabit teaches me something I didn't know I needed to learn. For a long time I was very good at abandoning myself, showing up fully for everyone else while quietly leaving myself out of the room. I learned something about that playing The Baker in Into the Woods. Pseudolus taught me to trust myself because there is no time to second-guess. The Baker taught me to stop leaving myself behind. Tartuffe reminded me that I am uniquely myself and only I can play a character the way I do. Pabbie taught me to pace myself. I keep coming back to these characters because the stage has always been one of the places where I figure out who I am.