ABOUT

“Audiences may experience an epiphany at a play, whether that play is consciously "Christian" or not; God is not limited by our conscious preparation (as artists or audiences). God's Spirit enters our lives in the most surprising of places-even in the theatre.”

Performing the Sacred

A JOURNEY OF FAITH AND THEATRE

The Beginning: a very good place to start

Yes. that is a Sound of Music reference.

There are a few moments that feel like origin stories.

Mine start early: a “My First” karaoke machine at two, performing on the stairs in joyful nonsense—or, more generously, wisdom. At four, interrupting a room full of adults on Christmas Eve, wearing a purple tutu and declaring, “Everybody stop. This is what we’re gonna do,” before directing my older sister in a fully realized holiday play.

But the image that has stayed with me most is this: I am eight years old, standing on the San Diego coast, watching the ocean glow with bioluminescence. It is late, past my bedtime, and I am seeing proof—undeniable proof—that magic exists in the real world.

I held onto that.

Even while being raised by lawyers, computer scientists, and politicians—people who taught me to think logically, critically, and practically—I couldn’t shake the belief that something more was always at work beneath the surface. That tension became the foundation of my artistry: a commitment to storytelling that reveals the extraordinary within the ordinary.

The Actor Chapter: A Necessary Disruption

I began as an actor, but after a series of concussions left me unable to reliably memorize lines, I was forced to reconsider what it meant to make theatre.

In a required directing class, I told my professor that all I wanted to do was make sad art—but that no one wants to watch a bunch of sad art. He responded simply: Picasso had a blue period. Why can’t you?

I’ve been orbiting that question ever since.

My work lives in that space—unafraid of discomfort, but deeply invested in connection. I am drawn to devised and applied theatre, to work that asks bigger questions and invites audiences into active engagement. Somewhere between Brené Brown and Bertolt Brecht, I’ve developed a practice rooted in both vulnerability and critical inquiry (shoutout to the lawyer parents).

The Side Quest: Learning to See

Along the way, I built a photography business—initially as a practical solution for better headshots in my college theatre department—but it became an essential part of my development as a director.

Photography taught me precision. It taught me how to sculpt light, how to compose images that tell a story instantly, and how to guide people into moments where they feel fully seen. In many ways, I was learning how to create stage pictures long before I named it as such.

Eventually, I was asked a simple question: What are you truly passionate about?

The answer was immediate—theatre. And my work has since returned back to what it always was: leadership disguised as directing.

The Work: Delight as a Doorway

Part of the work that I was always curious about was how my faith and love for the Lord overlapped with theatre spaces. What I am continually chewing on and pondering is how all theatre, as storytelling, was always intended to be folk, fable, and entertainment all at once. There is a subtle undercurrent in my work that asks for fun first, then hard conversations. I find the talk back essential for this reason.

We must be delighted first—so that our minds are open, so that we can engage deeply with complex ideas. We have to be drawn in by wonder, by beauty, by spectacle, in order to become available to think critically about the work we are experiencing and, furthermore, how it might help change the world.

Moving Forward: Complexity, Wholeness, and Imagination

As someone who began as an actor, I am continually inspired by Stella Adler’s belief that to be a great artist, you must first be a complex human being.

I bring that philosophy into every room I enter—working with students, collaborators, and audiences to create theatre that is thoughtful, visually striking, and emotionally resonant. My background in sculptural design, photography, and performance allows me to approach directing holistically: as composition, as leadership, and as an act of care.

At its core, my work is about this: creating spaces where people can encounter something magical—and, in doing so, see the world, and themselves, differently.