poets, playwrights and me...

I always wonder when I read someone’s work (even ~ especially? ~ those emails of yours that look so much like poems), or see someone’s work on stage: How much of that is them? How much of what someone writes is fiction and how much of it is based in truth…in their own experience, their own life? How many of those words come straight from the soul? How do I know, how do any of us know, if what is written is, in fact, fiction? (or in fiction, fact?) So many times I have been witness to this sort of testimony: part performance, part confession, part fairytale, part memoir… How do I know how much of it is true? How much of it is you?

I always wonder.

words to live by

"Sure as I know anything, I know this: I aim to misbehave."

Capt. Malcolm Reynolds, Serenity

I am so very very excited about this movie

Sometimes it still surprises me - the brilliance among people I know, the absolute artistry of people who are my friends.

I had such a moment last night, watching Bravo's the Singular Series. I know Mr. Craddock. He has become a friend. And he is brilliant. I have enjoyed every moment I have seen him on stage, every word I have read of his writing. It is strange to know one of "Canada's most exciting new talents" (National Post, last week sometime).

I think he'll probably be pretty famous one day. That guy who made me a margarita last week.

Summer... festival season... this is why I live here.

finally...a happy sigh.