It's my job to help audiences slow down, reflect, and light up.

Over the years, I have seen my work turn rooms full of strangers into lifelong friends. I create moments that allow audiences and individuals to shift their view of where they are and what they want—both for themselves and for the world they live in. I am a published playwright and essayist, with training as a psychotherapist, adult educator, and physical performer. I share fun, funny, and often physical stories to remind folks that we have more in common than we can imagine.  

My writing, my podcasts, and my performances center around self-discovery—and all the messiness involved in trying to live a life with integrity. Some call me an existentialist, and they're right. Whether I want to or not, I help audiences face their fears, their insecurities, and their humanity by exposing my own. 

I also remind people that it's important to laugh. Humor, curiosity, and play can get left behind when adulting. That causes us to lose our ability to dream. Having hope is vulnerable. Keeping our walls up convinces us that we are safe. It can also keep us stuck. My work is designed to unstick the stuck.

If I'm honest, this work of mine began in elementary school when I devised puppet shows and improvised skits with my 4th-grade classmates during lunchtime. Maybe I'm just a fast eater with a restless streak, but this impromptu pastime with my closest friends got me thinking that other students in the class might also have talent. By the end of the school year—with the help of my piano-playing mother and my Piagetian teacher—I executive produced (if you will) a variety show that my class put on for the entire third grade.

This at age 10.

Skip forward a few decades, a couple degrees, a number of certifications, and a patchwork career, and we arrive at this moment. I'm this hepta-hyphenate communicator who still sees hidden talent, has trouble staying in one place, and probably eats too fast.

Let's see what we can open together, shall we?