Hi Stacey

Hi Stacey–

Not doing well this morning. It’s a beautiful day, actually. Sunny, breezy, the fog just lifted. Been a quiet Sunday, had a cornmeal scone and New Orleans coffee at the cafe with Dern. Danced and showered before that, woke up naturally around 7:15. I go to Phoenix today, for a somewhat emotional reason for Dern and also to see my best friend Krichelle, who has had a sad summer. Then I bop up to NYC for my play’s “exciting” debut, then down to Chicago for various family visits. That quote from The Bell Jar comes to mind: “I was supposed to be having the time of my life.” But instead I feel nothing.

I feel so much nothing these days. I’m being reasonable, Stacey. I know I’m in a crash. Of course I am. I had the best month at Edinburgh Fringe, and then suddenly I was back in LA at the same cafes making the same small talk in meetings wondering the same questions, like August hadn’t even happened. I think I’m being a baby, but I also try to give myself grace. It really has been less than five weeks since I returned. And only three weeks since DC, which was a like a mini hit of the Fringe high.

I decided to write just now because I was trying to organize my pencil case but couldn’t stop crying. Thinking about climate collapse. There are times it simply floods me. The grief, and then the confusion, then the grief again.

Last time I was this low was January. Lost, kicked around, lonely in my craft. I was worried I’d never get out of the hole. But I did. I hold the fact that I did close. I can do it again. I almost gave everything up back then. I was in a position to drop the play, even. I didn’t, which in hindsight, I kind of think is a miracle. Thank truly all my lucky stars I didn’t fold in on myself, when I had every right to. The best was yet to come.

I try to remind myself it’s October 2026 and in October 2025 I had no idea my play would go up in 2026–five times even. I’d get a little chunk of change from revisions. I’d be brought on a cool project that would annoy me, yes, but might still be cool. I’d go to Iceland with the love of my life. I’d visit the beach with my mom and sister. My aunt and I would ring in my 38th birthday together. I’d have a good showing of my new play with a fantastic ensemble. I’d go to the pool and Hilary Duff.

Had my tarot read second to last night of the festival. My past was power, cut off at the knees by gatekeepers. My present was returning home triumphant. My future was rest, under a stained glass window. The actor who gave me the reading, he tapped the multi-color square, said, “Follow the light.”

Stacey, what I’d love is to get a good piece of news based on that email I sent yesterday morning. I’d also like to get my horror movie financed before Thanksgiving. I’d like a lot of other things–you know the usual, end to genocide and climate destruction–but starting with what’s in my hands, currently.

Hope you’re doing well. I think if I were you, I’d be a bit confused right about now. Or maybe if I were you, I’d just be singularly focused on forcing a livable planet.

xoxo

Alice