It’s that most wonderful time of the year: everyone on your timeline is posting their Spotify Wrapped results, and everyone on your news feed is writing op-eds about why Spotify Wrapped is overrated and creepy. I myself canceled my Premium subscription earlier this year upon realizing that I was mostly using Spotify for podcasts and occasionally looking up random songs playing in my head, so I have no results to share. Instead, I’m looking at this past year and sharing some of my own highlights—including ones that were covered in this very newsletter!
February: Bought plants
As a result of my annual campaign for people to donate money to me on my birthday so I can find material satisfaction, I bought two plants on Bloomscape for my home office: a Chinese Fan Palm and a Bamboo Palm. They brought me joy for a while, but that’s all gone—the Chinese Palm had root rot and died, and the Bamboo Palm had spider mites and has been slowly dying for the last couple of months in spite of my best efforts. So: plants suck and I will not be getting new ones unless they’re plastic. (Conversely, Chester, who’s way more high maintenance than the plants, is still alive, and has been bringing me joy for over a year now!)
May: Published my first investigative article
After six months of chasing down sources, listening and relistening to hours of tape, and tracking countless changes on a Google Doc, I published my investigation into The Lark’s shutdown for American Theatre—followed by a behind-the-scenes exploration of that process for this newsletter. It was the first time I ever wrote anything like that, and it was an experience I’ll remember forever—both because of just how big of an endeavor it was, and for how heartbroken I felt reporting on the end of an institution I loved so much. Not everyone was a fan of the piece, which is to be expected, but I was happy to see it provoking the sort of institutional discussions that I think need to be had in our field.
July: Got COVID
After two years of dodging COVID, I had started to believe I was invincible, a medical miracle, a freak of nature—and then I got it. And then I got it again! Paxlovid rebound is real, and not fun (though, you know, better than dying and whatnot). Overall, I’d say don’t get COVID? The free sick days are nice, sure, but if your case is like mine, you’ll feel too much like shit to enjoy them.
If you do end up catching it, though, you’ll be able to enjoy Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers, a show that makes absolutely no sense unless you’re running a high fever.
Also in July: Finished a new play, and workshopped another
Sometime in May, I had a weird-ass dream: I was in rehearsals for a play of mine that involved two female astronauts (one human, one robot—and pregnant) trying to open a huge portal on a deserted planet. Upon waking up, the dream play lingered in my mind, reminding me for whatever reason of Adam and Eve. So I decided to write it—and by the time July came around, I had a full draft. The Fall of Man, as it ended up being called, is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever written, but I’m very excited about it and the questions it asks. Can’t wait to share it with you all if it gets a public presentation!
As soon as I finished writing it, I went into a workshop for another play, Patriarch. The New Group very generously (and without any particular agenda) provided money, space, and a wonderful group of collaborators to dig into this horror piece inspired by satanic classics such as Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist (which we all watched in preparation). I had to attend some rehearsals virtually because of the aforementioned COVID, but even that could not dampen the enthusiasm of the team, who showed up ready to dig into the material with gusto and try anything (even if we ultimately decided to not go with Mario-style Italian accents for the final presentation).
August: Won a Princess Grace Award
I pleaded with the administrators of this award earlier in the year to drop citizenship/green card requirements—Grace Kelly would never discriminate against immigrants like that. They did it, and then I won! It’s been a lovely experience: the PG summit, where I got to meet the other winners and the prince and princess of Monaco, was delightful, and my residency at New Dramatists has been very productive so far. I remain committed to making it a space that’s welcoming to immigrants—we’re working on dropping citizenship/green card requirements for the other New Dramatist residency, and organizing events to spread the word on how people can support visa holders in the field.
Speaking of which: I didn’t get to spend a dime of the award on treating myself, since it was all seed money for my green card application—which is currently underway! It’s a painstaking, boring process, but I’m so grateful to everyone who’s helping me out.
August: Went on a made-up retreat
You know what they say: when you don’t get the artist’s retreat you apply to, you make one up. The brainchild of writer/dramaturg/international icon Adam Elsayigh, the first edition of the Purple House retreat (so called because, well, the house we stayed at was purple) was a rounding success. Lilly Camp and I wrote a full draft of a new screenplay, The Only One In The Room, which is basically Tár but set in the world of theater and, you know, not super boring. And I had a very relaxing time! And I made new friends! Turns out artists can organize things by themselves!
We’re already planning the next edition, which, because someone is offering us free housing, is looking like it won’t take place at the purple house. But I think we’re gonna keep the name, as well as the retreat’s biggest takeaway: Port Jervis isn’t real.
November: Broke my heart
It was a big bummer, and I’m still grieving, so please be patient.
All year round: Saw my family
The pandemic meant that I didn’t see my family for two whole years, which was quite sad and not good for my mental health. But we certainly caught up this year: I went to Brazil twice (and brought back my favorite things), then my parents visited, then I went to Argentina and saw my extended family—including my grandma, who in spite of her mental state, was able to recognize me and talk to me for a bit. I also got to see my friend Thaís, who is basically a sister, twice. So all around, a big year for family!
Also, as I look back through these pictures. I realize my look changed wildly throughout the year:
2022 was clearly a year of experimentation—sometimes in a frantic, catch-up-to-lost-time way, and sometimes in a brave, bold way. I’m certainly leaving it different than how I started it. I didn’t enjoy every part of it, but I feel like all of them were necessary. I have zero idea (and zero willingness to imagine) what the future will bring—all I wish for is that I receive it with openness, and let it contribute to my growth.
Thank you for following along on this journey!