There is always a bittersweet quality to a closing night. On one hand, it closes a cycle and allows you to be free for what lies ahead. But on the other hand, something you’ve poured your heart and soul into might never see the light of day again.

I am not a very organized person. I believe chaos plays a significant role in creativity and embrace it in the artistic process. And, even if this is true, my memory is impeccable and organized. It is as if I am a big apothecary cabinet, and each drawer is filled with experiences, lessons, and thoughts.

Time does fly, and if certain things change, others don’t. Eight years ago, I shot a video trailer for a show I was opening in New York. The show is long gone, but the trailer remains. Not only have I found memories of shooting it, but I am still very proud of the result.

When you perform, certain episodes only happen once. And you know, when they happen, you have a story to tell for the rest of your life. For example, the following happened in 2012 while performing Nothing to Hide at the Geffen Playhouse.

I did it. I erased every one of the 134 entries I had in the Journal of Curiosities. I needed a fresh start, and every time I looked at the old post, I felt they were trapping me in a mindset that I didn’t want to have any longer in this space. In this second life, I want a fresh set of eyes to understand how to use it.