The way I work is often challenging and emotionally trying.

I believe that once we no longer are making adjustments (and even big changes) to a piece, then we no longer need to perform it.

Every night is a ritual of presence and community and discovery.

Martha Graham story…

I’m trying to listen as closely as possible to what the piece is telling me, and to follow that.

So things are cut, added, cut, added, all through the process, based on what feels true. I’m basically obsessed with the piece through the whole run, constantly asking it what it needs to unfold.

Double Edge and Lewitsky models.

“only if you’re interested” being cut. Dan’s music cut. I’ve been cut from pieces.

Sometimes I have a clear sense, sometimes not. Sometimes I make good decisions, sometimes not.

That’s not an easy process, but I feel it’s a powerful and transformative process and is a process that chips away at our ego, and our addiction to comparing ourselves and being down on ourselves or each other. It’s a process that calls for a huge amount of surrender and trust and being okay with not-knowing.

It’s kind of like a vision quest or monastic retreat.

It’s not a process that works for everyone.

But part of it is that I need to hear from you when something feels really good, or feels really bad for whatever reason. That’s part of listening to the piece. The piece is inseparable from all of us. I can’t promise that I’ll make decisions that make things feel better, or keep things that feel good, but your feedback is part of how the piece communicates to me, and it all goes into the big mix of understanding this.

I think for the people that get the most personally out of this process, there is this trust and willingness to be present for whatever arises, which includes communicating about what is hard to say or doesn’t feel right, and also what does feel right. If you need to talk to me about something, but either don’t feel comfortable or I’m busy, you can talk to