Living Small
Tonight  I  left  a  memorial  for  our  dear  friend  and  colleague  Richard  Harden.  
This  was a  memorial  offered  at  the  school where  he  taught  for  many  years  and  powered  by  the  lives  he  touched  as a  mentor  and  human.  The  out pouring  of  love  from  the  young people  touched  by   his   wisdom  was  truly  awe  inspiring. This  was  not  a  sweetheart  of  a  man. He  was  not  followed  by  dogs  and  children  down  the  street. He  was noted  more  for his  directness  and  gruff, off  putting  sense  of  humor. He  did  not  suffer  fools  gladly,  could  easily  be  mistaken  for  arrogant  when  he  was  confident.
When I  arrived  home  I  was  greeted  with  the  news  that  another  dear  colleague, a  playwright  not  yet   50  was   suffering  from a  sever   condition  in  a  nearby  hospital. His  condition  was  stable  but  his  circumstance  was   certainly  very  serious ,  as  another  colleague  related  the  news.
As  these  emergencies awakened  in  my  life  I  was  also  reminded of  our   brothers  occupying  wall  street  everyday  right  endeavoring  to  make  a  difference.
And in the  midst  of  trying  to  coordinate a  rehearsal  for a  children's  show  and  a new  translation  of  Chekov's  "The  Seagull", the  continuation  of  an  important  workshop  begun  over  a  year  ago  at  our  theatre  and  promising  to  birth a  new  translation, amidst   e-mails  of a  New  York  premiere   of a  play  about breast  cancer, a play  about   the  Occupy  Wall  Street   movement, a  play  about  violence  in  prisons  in  Philadelphia,
I  received an  e-mail  from a  colleague  in  charge of a  building  we  occupy  with our  theatre  urging  us  to  get  our   costumes  and  set  material  out  of  the   unused  stairwell in  back  of  the  building because  they  would  be  thrown  away  otherwise.
We  had  done it  again  with  our  theatre.   We  had  taken  up  too much  space.
Live  smaller,  don't  think  so  big.
This  poor  man  invested  with  the  job of  hounding  us  to  clear  this  stairwell  has  been  doing   so  faithfully for  almost three  years. He  has a  personal  dream  to  see  this   staircase  empty.
He  feel  his  job  is  done when  there  is  nothingness.
I  felt  so  sad  for  him  for   he  had  no  students  to  inspire  or   audiences  to  please ,  ther  was  no one  gathering  to  salute  him  for  the  work  of  getting  people  to  move  their  belongings  from  this  meaningless  staircase   and  our   endeavors  to  make  his   nitpicking   seem  small  minded  were  typical  of  artist  types
Today  was a  sharp  reminder  to not  live  small. 

