What fuels your impulse to make creative work?
I love about theatre that it seeks not a single truth but a field of truth. I love that great plays never entrust their truth or their meaning to their characters. Characters, of course, have world-views, often compellingly stated and sometimes containing wisdom, but always the play knows more than they do. This is the very thing that draws us into a play, the source of drama’s unique power; we are hooked by the limitation of a character’s view, not its authority. Drama is not told to us, instead we watch as characters experience events in the “now.” A play is a framework that enables us to hold in our view the confusing and elusive fact that everyone else has a consciousness as complete, as worthy, and as limited, as our own. Not one of us can see over the next hill, into the heart of the person standing next to us, or into the future, even though every one of us at some time or another is full of presumption to the contrary. This is the essence of theater: It is a map of the democracy of consciousness. It is a map of humility. It is a map that leads us to connection by way of our shared confoundedness.