I live and work in New York, Brooklyn to be precise. I'm an actor and writer. Apart from muscling delicately through numerous film projects in the last year, a few, actually having been tough enough to give birth to themselves in the open, as Steve Buscemi once quipped in an interview, "It's amazing any film ever gets done," I've jockeyed my time between polishing drafts of a ridiculously unwieldy affair about messengering and working on a theatre piece about one man's journey through the mysterious landscapes of schizophrenia. They go together in my opinion.
Beating the streets of the rock with photoflash eyes, splitting feet and brains was the way I cadged my time on stage in the nineties working with Monkey Wrench Theatre, Richard Schechner's East Coast Artists and other off-beat theatre companies, whose influence one needn't go far to assess if they get to know me. Can't explain that, won't even try. It just is. I learned alot...stuff without words. Stuff about delivering the message. What message? Can't say. Back then, it was always about getting away with it, whatever, getting away with getting away, and then, in the end, just getting away. Heavy empty thud. Hard to pin down but the point is...after rising from some colorful ashes, it's good to be here. Now.
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