I can do this not because I am above it, but because I am in it.  I can talk to you about screwed up, well-meaning and not so well-meaning people trying their best to make sense of themselves and their situations, because I am one.

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What I wish for the audience when they encounter my work is to be like people sitting in their houses doing regular things, things they are very familiar with: eating dinner, drinking, reading, watching television, talking, taking a bath, making love, sleeping … when suddenly there is a power failure and the whole house goes dark, then the audience is forced to grope in the darkness, the familiar becoming somehow unfamiliar, the certain becoming temporarily uncertain.  

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Where the eyes cannot function a chair, a table, a wall, become new in your hands; plain room air takes on a particular scent; we begin to hear the silence more clearly … Where the other senses become heightened, they are forced to use their senses in new ways.  

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They are forced to find their own way through the darkness, not towards a candle or flashlight, but to learn from the wisdom of this particular darkness to the point where even the eyes begin to make out the shapes in it.