I've never really felt that I've had the right hair cut, or had the right clothes.

Grief does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature. It becomes a kind of personal weather system. Snow settles in the liver. The bowels grow thick with humidity. Ice congeals in the stomach. Frost spiderwebs in the lungs. The heart fills with warm rain that turns to mist and evaporates through a colder artery.

I think auditioning can be very reductive and I just hate how actors work really hard and most of them aren't going to get the job, and I hate putting them through that.

A typical day for me is I'm writing when I'm not directing.

I find auditioning to be a very illusive process, where actors come in with this really big result with no process, so it's a lie already at work.

It's strange, people have asked me what my schedule is and what is my process like, and I can't even answer it.

I think I'm a little more daunted by when the machinery of the play is really huge.