My work pushes at the limits of what human parts we can give love or give real attention to. I’m a playwright, an only child from New Jersey, and a former horse industry worker descended from nightclub performers and journalists. I write plays about the terror of attachment, the ways our neuroses shape our worlds, and love and loathing under late-stage capitalism.

For a few years, I’ve been dealing with chronic pain, and I’ve been forced to face feral parts of myself drawn out by being in constant survival mode. In our national moment of deeply insufficient imagination and introspection, I crave work that forces moments of recognition for the audience, even (especially) if they’re deeply uncomfortable. Comedy and spectacle are to me not distractions but crucial tools to draw an audience’s minds and bodies into these challenging moments. A warped world on-stage can also most accurately reflect the psyche of my character(s) — all of our minds would look like fun-houses if others could get into them.

Influenced by classic films from the ‘30s-’60s and armed with an art history bachelor’s, I’m obsessed with quick dialogue and looking/images (which I integrate into my writing practice). Heroines of my most recent plays are a teenage girl whose prime masturbation years are interrupted by unexpected tragedy celebrity, and a swimming movie star who unwillingly adopts an estranged friend’s orphaned teen just as she’s realizing her career needs saving. My plays push audiences to see beyond obvious victimhood and to experience much more complicated feelings than pity for these characters.