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When I was 9, stories were told in my room with Legos and stuffed animals, without rules, like a free-flowing chaos, but 10 years later in architecture school, the conflict between nurturing and stagnating the creative impulse grew. One All-nighter at the studio, I spilled instant coffee over my drawing and as I began to look for a paper towel, I took a deep breath and stopped, till a thought came up - "What is the center between chaos and order?" Where forms can grow from nothing? When it's grounded yet can soar beyond?  While designing that second semester of junior year, I felt isolated, unfocused, like a hallow façade, and this center felt elusive. 

Across the street from the studio, the drama club performed and I joined my senior year, acting in two plays. After graduating with a degree in Architectural Technology, I attended the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. During an early exercise called "Slice of life," while my classmates were in their own room, being themselves, I was being a character, but there was no script yet, and how could I be a character, if I skipped being in my own skin first? I felt self-conscious on stage, a white lab coat, holding a clipboard.  After year 1 of training, I woke up one day, and opened a letter informing me I was not invited back for year 2.  

I began training at HB Studio and  became a member of the Greenhouse Ensemble. In one project, we experimented with dance, movement and dramatic writing to ask, "how do you fill absence with meaning?" and it became my first opportunity to write for theater. Since then, I’ve studied playwriting with Kim Sharp, Julie McKee, and Lia Romeo, and meet with the Greenhouse Ensemble Writer's Group, where I began realizing that any idea, good or bad starts on the surface, and takes time, patience, and risk to shed layers, and create something specific, surprising, and moving. Writing is a way of sculpting a question I don't know the answer to and my inner child who once told stories with Legos, has bargained to keep the creative hunch somewhat imperfect and reckless till the very end.

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