I know that art is a safe place to scream. It separates the person from the presentation somehow and gives the audience equal room to consider the themes without feeling attacked. Art is a zone where we’ve all agreed to listen to each other….usually.

Slowing down to focus on the big project, just slows you down.

Forest Friends is my own little corner of the internet. It’s not an attention grab like Instagram, or a workspace, or an art gallery like Youtube. There is no consistent persona I try to maintain. It’s always felt more like a quiet letter stamped and mailed to the curious.

On a quiet, sunny day in Westport, with my dog by my side and a crackling fire, you’ll find me reading for three hour blocks at a time, punctured only by my need for more tea. I reflected on my bookish ways this Thanksgiving and found it’s a safe place to return to when other things are out of my control.

An industry pro told me -”no one wants you” - but when I look at all I’ve created, written, performed, and all the love I’ve shared, it’s clear her definition of “no one” is miniscule.

Every year, the town of Sante Fe builds a 60ft tall clown stuffed with the woes. "Zozobra" is then burned to the ground. You bet I added a paper.