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I might be the most particular person you will ever meet. I like things a certain way. And pretty much everything, has a certain way about it. There is a way I fold my socks, there is a way that I eat my very favorite d’anjou pears, there is a way that I fix my coffee, there is a way that I correct music, there is a way that I addictively research editions of music, and I think Billy Joel got it right – I do have ‘a way’ about me.

I embrace this dominant attribute in myself; I think it makes me eccentric, and if nothing else, good at my job. I don’t have any kind of creative process to arrive at some sort of dramatic outpouring of my emotion or soul. I realized this, as I sat watching from my nice little booth above the stage running the slides for a staged production of Igor Stravinsky’s Histoire du Soldat. This is not say I didn’t know I might not be the most flexible person in the world already, but I did realize that I will never operate that way. While the actors talked about ‘exploring the space’ and ‘building from feelings’ I sat by, with portable library, making sure my slides were numbered just so, my cues marked precisely with dark highlighter, my text changes corrected – and it was obvious that equally didn’t understand me. I think that we all agreed that we needed each other in order to create what I’m sure will be an amazing show.

Moral of the story – you should come see concert:nova & The Know Theatre in action this weekend. I’ll even show you my score if you do.


Mistaken identity happens all the time. To me. In the course of the past couple of weeks, I have been mistaken for a pregnant woman, a high school student, and Ixi. Yes, I’ve been busy. Tonight at a wildly successful concert:nova event (with no thanks to me – I apparently react to malfunctions of technology much the same way as I do fire – I don’t. Perhaps surtitle operator is not in my future…) there were a lot of blurred identities floating around. I was assumed to be Patrick’s sister, because, hmm, some likeness, I was introduced as Ixi multiple times (not that I mind being referred as such a great individual), among a few others. In the music world, we really do all know each other, at the very least by proxy. We were at that festival, had that roommate, played that gig, saw that concert, took that audition, whatever. I noticed at the end of the concert, gathered around, we have blended identities, and it might almost be hard to tell us all apart with our same mannerisms and stories, so I won’t really hold anyone completely to blame for this. Except for the person who thought I might have a bun in the oven.


Dec 31, if you parked in the underground lot at Children’s Hospital and came up the Location C elevators turned left and left again, this is what you’d have seen.

September 2019
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