home

Yesterday was spent saying goodbye to 'Agnes Under the Big Top'; a vital, rich, stunning, challenging play that I feel priveleged to have been a part of.  Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who gave your support in spirit, on stage, backstage, in the audience, through email correspondences and the occasional wrought telephone call.  Theater truly is a community experience; it takes a village.

This past week, as promised, I spent a morning volunteering with IRIS -  the Integrated Refugee and Immigrant Services.  I took the bus from downtown New Haven to their modest office in an enclave of the city called East Rock, to greet clients and answer phones.  After spending two months playing an immigrant from Liberia, the morning was a humbling clash of reality and imagination.  Suddenly, I was immersed in swaths of Arabic spoken by clients before an English class, on the phone with individuals facing possible deportation, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and in many cases, unable to communicate beyond a wide smile, knitted brow, and encouraging nods of the head.  It is so heartening to know that this organization, and others like it, are advocates for those who have left their homes in the pursuit of opportunity and, in some cases, safety.  The world is such a small and tender place. Connection and care are rare and when found, are priceless.

And now I'm home.  It was a balmy, gray day spent sleeping, writing, reading, and combing the stacks at the local library near our family home.  The crocuses are sprouting up in purple bursts beyond the concrete curbs, and my little world seems poised yet again for transition and change.  I love the spring.