When I got inside, I just sort of stood there. There's nothing stranger than the smell of someone else's house. The scent goes right to your stomach. Mary's house smelled like lemon furniture polish and oatmeal cookies and logs in a fireplace. For some reason it made me want to curl up in the fetal position. I could have slept right there on their kitchen table.

I feel that I'd rather know an actors' work, or have an instinct about them and sit down and have coffee with them, or I'll see them in something and I'll see if I can get along with them in some way, shape, or form.

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

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 just love working with actors, and I love working with writers, working with designers.

I've been living in Portland for five months and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I probably won't really know for years because that's how it works right? You don't really develop feelings about a place till you've left it. It's like a girl or a dog.

I think because my brother was an actor and I just saw how he struggled through, I guess I'm sensitive to it.