asc

It occurs to me that I should probably document this in some form.

I am currently attending the 2011 Blackfriars Conference, put on by the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton, VA.  You may remember that I nearly decided to spend three years of my life here, in their MLitt/MFA program.  Although I eventually chose Exeter instead, I still deeply admire the work they do here, so much so that I co-founded the Grassroots Shakespeare Company in direct response to their inspiring productions.

And that's how I came to be here, as a presenter, at one of the most legit Shakespeare conferences in existence.  They were keen to hear more about Grassroots - our processes, our challenges, our successes - and we were really keen to come out and see their current season, and learn new stuff from brilliant Shakespeare scholars.  Thankfully, UVU was keen to foot the bill.

The conference has been illuminating, intimidating, expansive, and so very rewarding.  I have such respect for the ASC actors.  Their performances are almost impossibly detailed.  The texture and nuance involved in their approach to the language of Shakespeare's plays brings layers of meaning to the surface in a way that seems almost effortless.  They make the plays extraordinarily accessible, not by dumbing them down, but by dexterously uncovering their inherent rhetorical richness.  It's been a joy to see a different show each night.  The Tempest, Hamlet, and Henry V were each strong, unique, and surprising.  How this company achieves such a genuinely fun sense of play, while so closely attending to the demands of the text, is magical to behold.

Coming back here has reminded me what a debt of gratitude Grassroots owes to the ASC's inspirational productions.  We have so much work ahead of us if we're going to bring our shows up to scratch in terms of textual detail, but I think we often achieve an atmosphere of vibrant anarchic play in our productions that somehow evokes the experience of seeing the ASC in action.

I have just one more day here before heading back to Utah, where I'll see the final evening of Grassroots' latest production, Macbeth.  As I stand at the edge of our renaissance touring stage, and hear some of Shakespeare's most chilling verse cut through the frosty Autumn air, I expect I'll be thinking how lucky we've been to share this idea with an ever-expanding audience, and how thankful I am for the pioneering work of the American Shakespeare Center, breathing new life into some of the best plays ever written. 


It's been a great ride so far, and we're just getting started.

Westward, Ho!

Yesterday afternoon, at 2:23 PM (a whopping hour and a half ahead of the deadline), I handed over my final MFA portfolio, completing my two years as a student at the University of Exeter.  Although I had expected jubilation, I mostly felt sad, and a little lost.  But also relieved.

There isn't much to say about this experience, at least not now.  It has been challenging, and incredibly rewarding.  I have loved it, especially this second year, and I am going to miss it.

Now, onward.

Next month, if I have enough people sign up, I'll be teaching a couple of weekly Shakespeare classes at Davis High.  One of them will focus on the literary aspect, and the other will be an acting class.  Having never really taught before, I'm both terrified and excited to get started!

Also next month, I'll be heading out to the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton, VA, to give a presentation at the Blackfriars Conference.  This is a biannual event featuring research from some of the top Shakespeare scholars from around the world, and we have been invited to present on the Grassroots Shakespeare Company!  I am thrilled at the opportunity!

After that, I'll be working on developing the Grassroots Shakespeare Company in Utah, in preparation for next year's season.  I'm hoping to start getting into schools and rural communities, and to produce more educational content such as workshops, symposia, and hopefully a few more adaptation events!  Keep following our progress on facebook!  ;)

Of course, I'll also be looking for gainful employment (oh yes, that) so if you happen to hear of any Adjunct Faculty positions in Drama or English, send them my way!  I'm not picky!

Best to Worst - Best Pic Nominees of 2010 (I know I'm late to this party)

It's no secret that I like films.  I don't obsess over them very often, but I do like to think and write about them, which I recognize goes a few steps beyond the usual behavior of just renting and watching them.

I appreciate that some people watch movies purely for entertainment.  That's fine.  I do that sometimes.  Other times, I watch movies to be challenged, devastated, perplexed, uplifted, shocked, inspired, etc.

A lot of the best movies contain adult content, and are therefore rated R.  Most of my family and friends don't watch R-rated movies on principle.  That's fine.  I do watch R-rated movies.  I also read banned books.

Anyway, I digress.  Here, in a very particular order (best to worst) are the Best Picture nominees from last year.  I feel like I've finally seen enough of them to make an informed (albeit personal) ranking.  You should see the ones at the top - although I warn you, they are not for kids.


127 Hours

I have written a bit about this film already.  Suffice it to say, this was my favorite film of 2010, and is probably up there with Apollo 13 in terms of movies that make me proud to be a human being.  As with Black Swan, I initially avoided this film because I was afraid the content would be too disturbing.  Instead, I found it enlightening and uplifting in ways that few other works of art have matched for me.

This adventure/drama/thriller has some ingenious cinematography, astonishing acting from James Franco, a brilliant score, and an absolutely thrilling message.  Everyone should see this movie.


True Grit

I will never understand the ratings system.  How can an innocent little film like The King's Speech be restricted to viewers over the age of 17, while the intensely violent and harrowing western True Grit is deemed suitable for kids?  Granted, I think it's a remarkable film.  The Cohen brothers are geniuses when it comes to constructing a scene.  The characters are delightful, the plot is satisfying, the filming is gorgeous, and the writing is hilarious and touching.  But its violent content is far more disturbing than a few F-words in a speech therapy session, and it should have been rated R.


The King's Speech

This biopic is an utter delight from beginning to end.  I disagree with those who call it tepid, made-for-TV drama.  It's a brilliant character study, well-written and superbly acted, and makes a relatively simple story crackle with texture and urgency.

I found a few things to nit-pick, however.  The cinematography was distracting, particularly in the early therapy scenes.  Perhaps this was for a reason - to put the audience on edge? - but all it did was annoy me.  Also, I felt like Helena Bonham Carter's character was flat as a pancake.  I mean, her husband is suddenly the King of England, and she has a chance to buoy him up.  What does she say?  I was afraid to marry you because I thought this would happen, and now it's happening.  How she delivers this without a hint of irony is beyond me.

But, despite a few minor distractions, the film tells a great story in a really endearing, low-key kind of British way.  It's definitely worthy of its Oscar wins, though I would have picked a different Best Pic.


Black Swan

As with Pan's Labyrinth, and a precious few other films, I have been obsessively terrified of Black Swan ever since seeing the trailer in cinemas.  It got right under my skin and stayed there.  Something about the twirling ballerina leg in the music box.  Yikes.  But when I heard about 'the scene,' and remembered that it was a Darren Aronofski film, I kind of decided not to see it.  I knew the film would go places I wasn't totally comfortable with.  But, eventually, curiosity got the best of me and I rented it.

Black Swan is an exploration of themes that are very close to me.  Almost too close for comfort.  No, I'm not an obsessive ballerina striving for perfection, and no I don't have psychotic breaks from reality, and no I don't compulsively scratch myself.  But the part of me that is a performer, the part of me that feels lonely and claustrophobic, the part of me that desperately wants to excel, the part of me that fears my own demons... they all found a lot to relate to in this film.

Of course, Black Swan takes these themes to their darkest, most troubling extremes.  There's something cathartic in that.  And something dangerously seductive.  But it isn't simply dark for the sake of being dark.  It tells a story that undermines your grasp on reality, and sanity.  I squirmed, I jumped, I gasped, at times I turned away, but I was completely enthralled.  Gripping performances, merciless direction, and a shocking script make this brave film well worth watching.


The Social Network

I suppose this film is perfect.  I can't think of a single flaw (apart from Rashida Jones's awful last line), and it's certainly relevant, epochal, the stuff of myth.  But... despite its super-smart dialogue and slick cinematography, I just don't find myself empathizing with the characters.  A bunch of rich kids arguing over who came up with what idea first...  Yeah, I'm simplifying, but... it just doesn't have the urgency, the immediacy, the universality of some of the other Best Pic contenders - at least I didn't feel it.


Toy Story 3

This one was actually a bit of a disappointment for me.  I felt like it was emotionally manipulative, inappropriately scary, and generally pretty gloomy.  That being said, it was also genuinely funny, moving, and nostalgic.  I enjoyed it, but I didn't love it.  I think it was superior to How to Train Your Dragon in terms of animation quality, but Dragon's story was infinitely better.  Sad as it makes me to say it, I feel like Disney·Pixar may have peaked with Wall·E and UP.


The Fighter

I don't think I would have seen this gritty drama on my own.  I don't much care for boxing films, as I tend to find them more formulaic than perhaps any other genre.  But, as it happened, I went to see The Fighter in London with a few friends, one of whom actually had a small speaking part in the movie!  I loved the cracking dialogue and the sublime acting (particularly from Melissa Leo).  I felt very empathetic with the characters, agonizing over their alienating, dysfunctional behavior.  In the end, though, I have to say this film left little of a lasting impression.  It was engrossing, but perhaps too loose and rambling to make a major impact.


Inception

Although I love this flick, its director, its cast, and especially its originality, I have to say I left the theatre feeling a bit let down.  I had spent the whole film waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me - waiting for reality to shift, for the stakes to jump, for the game to change - but it didn't happen.  The conceit was explained, ad nauseam, and then it was deployed.  Simple.

Again, I love this film.  Seriously, I do.  But, these are DREAMS!  Anything is possible!  ANYTHING!  Why oh why does the dream world need to be so rigidly naturalistic?  And why oh why is Cobb's subconscious city so bland?  He and his wife spent a lifetime building... identical gray high-rises?

What I resent about this film is that it could have taken the Memento-style destabilization of reality to a whole new level.  Instead, it took a step back, and catered to a summer audience who could hardly be bothered to put two and two together on their own.  As a result, it was a linear crowd pleasing action flick, disguised as a psychological thriller.  Still, I love this film.


Winter's Bone

This quiet Sundance flick is impressive, but ultimately uninspired.  Its disturbing heart of darkness is nearly rendered believable by solid performances, but even good acting cannot completely redeem its loose, sometimes incoherent script.


The Kids Are All Right

I haven't seen this one, and haven't had any desire to.  Is it any good?

To Do in America:

Steph and I have been brainstorming things we can't wait to do when we get back to the States.  This is purely a peremptory measure, designed to soften the blow.  So, when we're sitting around in Kaysville wishing that we could just hop on a train and be in London two hours later, we'll pull out this list and do something we couldn't (or haven't) do(ne) in England.

• Go to Grandma's house; eat fudge, watch the Jazz lose, see her new basement, etc.
• Watch American football, with American commentary, and American commercials (legally).
• Go to Pace's Dairy Ann.
• Have a barbecue at Daniel's.
• See a Grassroots show.
• See Kelsey skate.
• Watch fireworks on the fourth of July.
• Spend Thanksgiving with family, eating food and watching American football.
• Drive up the nearest canyon in Autumn.
• Hike.
• See the Grand Canyon.
• Visit Amy and Vaughn in Washington.
• Drink a Lime Rickey at Arctic Circle.
• Eat a Frosty.
• Eat at Cafe Rio, Los Hermanos, Betos, etc.
• Watch cheap movies at Kaysville Theater.
• Swim in an alpine lake.
• Go to a natural hot spring.
• Hike the Narrows at Zion National Park.
• Work at Sundance.
• Listen to Pandora.
• Watch Hulu.
• Spontaneously visit family (and beg food).
• Play in the back yard.
• Golf at Davis Park.
• Admire screens in windows, basements in homes, and central heating.
• Eat Cap'n Crunch, Marshmallow Mateys, Nilla Wafers, and Skippy Peanut Butter.
• Play our piano.
• Eat bagels with strawberry cream cheese.
• Go to a baseball game.
• Visit New York, San Francisco, D.C., and Boston.
• Play basketball in the driveway.
• Learn to ski.
• Eat yogurt with a fork.
• Admire the mountains.
• Buy cheap clothes.
• Take you out to lunch.

What are we missing?

An excuse to share some funny town names

This weekend we are performing Twelfth Night in the tiny village of Otterton, which is just outside of Budleigh Salterton (or past Newton Poppleford if you're driving in from Exeter).  It's a quaint little place, consisting of a pub, a church, and some houses.  Also a mill.  The village has no mobile phone signal, no shops, and no internet.

My question: if it doesn't have the internet, how/why does it have a website?

UVU peeps!

Yesterday I woke up in a hostel (by far the best I've stayed in) and, after breakfast, headed out toward Whitehall to pick up a ticket for Being Shakespeare.  On the way, I decided to grab a bike from Barclay's cycle hire, because it's only £1 per day, and who wouldn't want to ride a bike through Hyde Park, Green Park, and St. James's Park, heading right past Buckingham Palace and off to Trafalgar Square in the morning?

I got the ticket, then headed over to Gloucester Road to meet up with some of my absolute favorite people in the world for lunch.  We ate at Nando's, which is one of the few popular restaurant chains in Britain whose products actually look and taste like food.  Chris, Daniel, and Heather were kind enough to brief me on all the scandalous goings-on that I've missed, and let me tell you, some awkward stuff has gone down at UVU!  (Don't tell.)

I told them everything I knew about Sir Ian McKellen's serendipitous brush with the Grassroots Shakespeare Company (he made one of our new London cast members an omelet), and explained to them that we are moving back to Utah in October, and could they have some work lined up for me, pleaseandthankyou.

We went to see Simon Callow in Being Shakespeare, and it was just okay.  I felt like it was basically a really engaging lecture on Shakespeare's life, with a few memorable speeches woven in.  He looked and sounded professorial.  From what I could tell, the audience demographic consisted of old ladies, and a theatre group from UVU.

We were greeted after the show by buckets of rain, so I made my way to the shelter of Paddington Station to await my quick train back to Exeter.  Of course, the weather was great out here in the Southwest, and I biked home past the cathedral (and the 1,000-year-old church on High Street) without incident.

Are we all met?

One of my favorite parts of the Grassroots Shakespeare experience is the first cast meeting.  We had ours last night on the top floor of a Starbucks in Knightsbridge, and it was divine.

The enthusiasm, the goodwill, the unbridled optimism... It's just such a refreshing experience.  What kind of gift is this, to get together with a fun group of like-minded people, and start to create a totally collaborative work of art.

I can't wait to get started on the rehearsal process.

Good flick

I have mentioned my sincere love for the film 127 Hours.  Sadly, I avoided seeing this movie in the cinema, because I was afraid that it would be too harrowing to handle.  I had heard about the moment when, as in the true story, Aron Ralston has to cut off his own arm with a dull multi-tool in order to save his life.  Knowing Danny Boyle to be a pretty visceral, uncompromising director, I imagined this moment would be excruciating.  I was right.  But in the context of the film, it is absolutely pitch-perfect.  Yes, it's a challenge to watch, but it is such a profound expression of some deep human experiences that are common to a lot of us, and so true to the actual event, that I recommend this film to any adult who craves a great story.

Then again, 'a great story' is probably not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of this film.  I mean, a guy goes hiking, gets his arm trapped under a huge boulder, and slowly wastes away in a desolate canyon before finally cutting off his own arm and somehow surviving the ordeal.  It's not exactly a plot-driven narrative.  So what makes it a great story?

Three things come immediately to mind.  One, the way it expresses the delicate balance between the individual and the community is sublime.  Two, the way it subtly weaves spirituality into the harsh physical reality of the situation is brilliant.  Third, the way it retells the classic narrative of death and rebirth is simply beautiful.

1) Aron is an individualist.  He ventures out into the wild for the purpose of finding solitude.  He feels alive when he is completely self-reliant.  But his solitude becomes isolation, and his self-reliance becomes survival.  For me, the most poignant shot in the film comes near the end when a small family of foreign hikers spot Ralston in the distance, obviously in distress, and immediately run to him.  They give him all they have - water and a few Oreos - and help him survive until he can be air-lifted out of the canyon.  In the best moments of human interaction, our religious, social, ethnic, and ideological differences melt away, leaving only the compassionate core that I believe exists within each of us.  I love that part of our nature.  It's what makes community possible.

2) Call his visions what you will, but Ralston's hallucinations in the canyon provide hope and meaning in an otherwise hopeless and absurd situation.  His darkest moments are made bearable by these prescient visions, which eventually inspire him to take the action necessary to save his life.  Perhaps these phantoms were signs of a deteriorating mind, and perhaps it is only by chance that he did give birth to the son, years later, whom he had seen in the canyon the night before his escape.  Perhaps the flight of the raven was a coincidental accident.  Or perhaps something greater was involved. 

3) As in Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings, the New Testament, and other great stories, 127 Hours involves the struggle, the death, and the rebirth of its hero.  Just as Gandalf must struggle with the Balrog, and even lose his life in the process, before being reborn and forever changed by the encounter, Aron Ralston's battle with his personal demons brings him to the point of accepting death, and leaves him permanently altered.  He escapes the canyon as a different man.  A new man.  In the same way, many of us have our own personal battles, our epic internal struggles which can, though not without sacrifice, be overcome.  We may be scarred, but we are better for having plumbed the depths of our experience and taken ownership of our destiny.

The MFA.

As it turns out, time passes.  Things have changed over the past two years.  Both of my grandfathers have passed away.  Stephanie and I have grown closer as a couple.  I have learned some things about Shakespeare, she has learned some things about England, and we have both learned a lot about each other.  It's been a massive growing experience, and we anticipate that moving back to Utah will feel like leaving home as much as going home.

The first year here was somewhat difficult; we encountered culture shock, personality clashes in the MFA, and feelings of disillusionment and isolation.  We tried to keep a positive attitude, we traveled and took pictures, and even in the toughest moments we still had each other.  But, to be completely honest, it was a disappointing year.

The second year could not have been more different.  We grew to love and feel comfortable in England, we got into a much more comfortable flat in a nice neighborhood, and we made some very good friends.  My MFA colleagues were a kinder, more diverse bunch (at least from my perspective), and I felt freer to express myself around them.  As a result, everything seemed sunnier.  And now I don't ever want to leave Exeter!

As I haven't blogged much over the past couple of years, I thought I should write up a quick list of some of the high points and low points out here, mainly to remind myself of just how many amazing opportunities I've had, and also to assuage my horror at seeing all my student loans piled on top of each other.



September 2009: Stephanie and I fly to Exeter.  I lose my most important piece of luggage.  We await its return while spending a couple of days living in Alex and Anna-liisa's spare room (thanks again).  We sleep a lot, and feel guilty about being lousy house guests.

October: The MFA program kicks off with a mind-numbing two-day research seminar.  Stephanie begins a dispiriting, but ultimately successful job search.  We move into our flat, and very shortly get used to the sound of passing trains.

November: Emma Thompson visits Exeter, and gives us a two-hour masterclass.  The weeks leading up to her visit are fraught with bitter arguments about what she wants to see from us.  They are a taste of things to come.

December: The first of many month-long academic breaks, and the first Christmas away from home for Steph.  We live on Skype.  On Boxing Day, some new friends take us on an epic romp across Dartmoor, and for a whole day we don't miss our families one bit.



January 2010:  We ring in the new decade in London, just across the Thames from the London Eye.  It starts to snow lightly just after midnight, as we make our way home alongside 300,000 other crazy people.

February:  I spend two glorious weeks at Shakespeare's Globe in London, learning voice, movement, and acting from some inspiring professionals.  This is everything I had imagined and more.  It is also a huge boost to my self-confidence, which helps me get through the rest of the academic year.

March:  We perform a touring production of The Tempest, loosely directed by Prof. Chris McCullough, in which I play Ariel.  Driving to tiny towns in Devon to perform Shakespeare feels like my calling.  My mom's Father passes away from natural causes, and I long to be home with family.

April:  Another month-long break, during which I ponder getting a job.  We go canoeing in Exeter, and spend a great weekend in St. Ives, Cornwall.  I am lucky to have Stephanie.

May:  We begin working on our final projects for the academic year.  I co-create a piece about death and the soul with some wonderful colleagues.  All is right with the world.

June:  We perform Swift as a Shadow, and my Dad is in attendance.  A couple of days later, his father passes away.  We contemplate his memory as we sit in front of the Colosseum in Rome, while his funeral takes place across the sea.

July:  Grassroots Shakespeare comes to Exeter, performing Romeo and Juliet and All's Well that Ends Well.  I learn it's not easy to run a theatre company on your own in a foreign country with few local actors and no money.  My Mother-in-law visits, attends my show, and gives me a guitar for my birthday!

August:  Stephanie finds a new job (thanks again Anna-liisa), and we spend a couple great days touring Devon and Cornwall with Alex and Daniel.  The Red Shoes by Kneehigh Theatre Company becomes the single most exciting piece of theatre I've ever seen.  Also, I fall irrevocably in love with Edinburgh.

September:  Bike rides, visits to the beach, and some writing.  We move into a much better flat.  We haven't been home for a year, and we miss it.  Stephanie crawls through muddy tunnels with her coworkers in an incredible 5K race for charity, called the Commando Challenge.

October:  Year two of the MFA gets underway, and I completely space the pre-sessional talk-fest.  I feel bad about missing my colleagues' amazing show, but not so bad about missing academic pontification.

November:  We almost die in Ottery St. Mary, during the annual Guy Fawkes Day celebrations.

December:  The first term of year two finishes (with no assessed work to speak of) and we finally head home, luckily flying out of Heathrow one day after a cataclysmic snow storm.



January 2011:  Disneyland with the Richardson fam.  I was skeptical, and I stand corrected.  It is the most magical place on earth.  I love my nephews and they love me.  (Niece Zoe is proving more difficult to win over.)  Also, Grassroots Adapt-in-a-Day festival goes off without a hitch.  Huzzah.

February:  Two more weeks at Shakespeare's Globe.  I feel totally at home on the stage.  It's warmer than last year, I get to see an incredibly moving production of King Lear starring Derek Jacobi, and I visit Steph on the weekend.  Oh, and the Green Bay Packers win the Super Bowl.  Go Pack Go.

March:  I perform in jeggings - let that image sink in if you dare - as Slender in Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor.  The cast is really good, cooperative, and fun.  Touring is charming and quirky, with the seaside town of Beer being my favorite stop this year.  Chris's driving makes the most of my car-sickness.

April:  Another break.  Ten days in France that Steph and I will never forget.  Cycling the Loire, looking for chateaux, eating delicious food, and watching the sunset from the top of the Eiffel Tower as it sparkles.  Steph plans the whole trip, and it is brilliant.

May:  One week in Stratford-upon-Avon, doing archival research at the RSC.  About as interesting and esoteric as it sounds.  Also, saw a thoroughly disturbing production of Macbeth, and began rehearsals for Pericles.

June:  Co-directed a community production of Pericles with my colleague and friend, Evelyn.  Fell in love with our hilarious, diverse, and enthusiastic cast.

July:  Performed in a dream role (Sir Andrew Aguecheek), got Grassroots London rolling, bought plane tickets home, and began the messy business of saying goodbye to England.  It's going to hold a place in my heart forever.  Even as manly as I am, it's getting me all choked up just writing about it.


Well, now you're up-to-date.  Anything in there you'd like to hear more about?

Love vomit, part two!

I love my wife, Stephanie.  I cannot tell you how much.  When I think about her, I get a warm sensation in my middle.  She is the sweetest, the most thoughtful, the most compassionate person I know.  For the past two years, she has worked full time to support me while I do my MFA.  Two years of tedious administrative labor, day in and day out, so that I can play around with Shakespeare.  I realize that I am lucky, and I truly can't wait to repay her for this sacrifice.

I love riding my bike on the streets of Exeter.  The drivers are so polite and courteous and aware.  It's incredible.  And I love zipping through traffic, practically for free, creating virtually no pollution, while getting exercise.  Ah, cycling, you are good.

I love good movies.  Seriously, I love them.  127 Hours, you were amazing.  I wept at the end of that film, called my mom and told her I loved her, gave Stephanie an extra hug, and for a while everything in my life was perfect.  Good art has such enormous power.  I am only beginning to realize my responsibility as an artist.

I love making plays.  I love rehearsing in parks, performing under trees, and watching kids become entranced by Shakespeare's fantastic characters.

I love learning about the cosmos.  Sometimes I think about the size of the universe, about how much space there is between galaxies, and about the fact that there are footprints on the Moon.  It fills me with reverent awe.  Sometimes I try to comprehend the reality of a black hole, and it deeply disturbs me.  The universe is incredible, and fragile.

I love this precarious planet, and all the beautiful diversity it offers.  I love the way children appreciate the world, and I yearn for their idealism to infect me again.

I love my family and friends, I love reading a good book, I love familiar songs and I love encountering surprising new music for the first time.  I love laughter, and sometimes feel I could do more to add laughter to the world.

I love feeling acceptance and support from people who believe differently than I do.  I would love to be able to express my own beliefs more freely, but I fear my most valued relationships would suffer.  I wish to do more to combat intolerance and divisiveness.

I love living in England, and I am desperately torn between staying here and heading back to be closer to my family.  I love the friendships I have made here, and am so very grateful to the people who have given me the time I needed to open up and be myself around them.

I love writing my way out of a slump.  I love coming back from self-doubt and worry; regaining a fuller perspective.  I love a bright red moonrise over dark green fields and rolling hills.  I love life, with all its uncertainty and beauty.

I love you.  I will try to be better at showing it.  Because, really, I do.