I once worked at a company where I had my own office, and the walls were covered in the detritrus of my life. Maps and ticket stubs. Laundry receipts from some far-off hotel. Pictures. Cartoons. Text.
Since then, I've never had an office--a space, a studio--where I would spread my visual wings. So, on the first day here at VSC, I chose to start to backfill Plank with the dramaturgical work I would have liked to have done much earlier in the writing process. And one of the many discoveries I've already made is this: There is madness benearth the waves.