Living in LA, drinking from the dot-com fire hose in Seattle at the turn of the century and now re-establishing myself in Manhattan, I’ve crossed paths with some amazing people and have to admit to rarely experiencing the feeling of being star-struck. All the ‘playing cool‘ we’re taught eventually sticks and I think, unlike the eye-crossing that our mothers said would stay that way, this one really keeps. Play it cool long enough and you’ll end up playing it cool all through life.
But there’s nothing like a swift kick in the pants by gut-wrenching, exquisite art, to remind you of that sense of wonder and excitement that we pushed away with all our coolness. And nothing like a brilliant artist telling it to you like it is, to leave you speechless.
I am grateful to have had such a moment last month, as I read a play called “the Owl Answers” by Adrienne Kennedy. In doing my research on Kennedy I was struck by the details of her life story, the ones beyond the biographical texts, the ingredients of power and strength that come from a life well lived that exist between the lines. I was determined to speak to her and capture some sense of the artist herself; the personality behind the epic stories that were weaving themselves into my nightly dreams.
I had that chance last month, and I was star struck.
She explained that she’d recently turned 80 and spoke to me directly, mincing no words and expecting the same in return. I experienced a woman with both confidence and grace and above all, an inquisitive mind. She asked questions and she was bold, curious and demanding of good, well thought answers. I imagined her teaching at the various prestigious places she’s taught and I could see her being the rare combination of demanding and yet insightful instructors who at once leave you feeling humbled and massively changed.
She spoke of living in Italy after her time in Africa in the 60′s, alone with her first son and pregnant with her second. She generously shared the feeling of being with a man who treated her like a goddess but at the same time elicited in her the sense of being caged. She spoke of her collaborations with artists like John Lennon and legendary personalities such as Joseph Papp with equal pleasure as her collaboration with her son, who very early in life said they should do something together. She asked me to keep in touch.
How many people say that? How many people ask you how you’re doing without any sincere interest in listening? These are expressions, they’ve come to mean little.
And yet for this living legend, it was the truth. Since that first conversation we’ve interacted a number of times and, by her request, I’ve been sharing with her insights into the work we’ve been doing with her piece.
If nothing else of interest happens in my time at Columbia diving into the world of theatre, it will have been worth it. Experiencing first hand what a life of cultivated wonder and curiosity looks and sounds like is a prize like none other, and I’ll be forever grateful for the chance to have a dialog with someone who truly lives life saying what she means (and meaning what she says).
This evening I attended my first theatre class at Columbia. The professor is a producer. Of course, not just any producer but an absolute 
Exciting things, just like the scary ones, are infinitely easier to process when you can see and touch them, I find. As week one of this little adventure draws to a close, I feel infinitely closer to knowing what the next 4 months are going to look like. Classes start after Labor Day, but this week of interesting (as well as some decidedly non-interesting) activities on campus have been grounding. 
My friend 
