At some point when I was a child, someone hurt me in an irrevocable way. And that wound became fuel. And that fuel became fire. And that fire became a career.
I decided I would build something wholly my own. A personality, a passion, a life that could not be touched by the things that hurt me as a child.
What we think is the opposite of the wound inevitably becomes its source. What we think may heal us often puts us exactly where we began.
I think this could map onto any of our internal engines. It is certainly what I see as Susannah Perkins works their way toward their grand dream as Jane in NOT NOT JANE’S. I want to design a communal space where people can simply gather and rest in chairs. And I want this to be important and I want it to be mine. Of course this aspirational space is inescapably still in Jane’s childhood bedroom. And of course Jane’s mother, who has not slept in months, could use a chair more than anyone. But in Jane’s mind, her dream is the one thing that belongs to her and her alone.
I would love this play even if it weren't uproarious and clear evidence of the depth and vulnerability of Mara's humor and wisdom. I love this play most for how it maps interpersonal wounds onto exterior ambitions. And how they are usually one and the same.
I often ask playwrights how their families react to their work. Rarely is that reaction satisfactory for us. My own mother never comments on my work. I once wrote a play about motherhood that was as personal and generous as I could manage. Where all I really wanted was for my mom to see it and say, “Wow. You noticed so much, and I’m sorry.” The play won some awards and had a big production. When I confronted my mother to say something about the play, she said “Well, you wrote this play because you don’t know how to accept unconditional love.” And I thought ah, yes, of course. My dreams will never come true.
Oh, we want so many things. And yet the further we travel, the closer we get to that original wound. The things I want most are so simple and impossible.
We keep working, perhaps to regain what was lost when we were kids. Here, in this new world being written, my mother calls me and says exactly the words I’ve always wanted to hear. Here, all the talented people I love are allowed to be good at the things they are best at. Here, I have built a kingdom made entirely of comfy chairs just so that my mother can sit and rest.
Until that world is real, we keep working.
Ambition is a letter I mailed to myself as a child. When I finally opened it as an adult, all it said was "come home."
(Yoni is hot.)
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Not Not Jane's ran through June 13, 2025 at the wild project as part of Clubbed Thumb’s Summerworks Series.
