Today, I am remembering that the theatre is a place of not knowing, a place where the mysteries that shroud our lives can be more opaque, to be lit, just for an hour. So humbled, honored and touched to be a part of this process with Jasmine Chiu to uncover together the questions she had about her beautiful mother. ‘Listen the Snow is Falling’—we loved the song from the start, it felt right, Jasmine’s mother loved the Beatles and John Lennon

Listen, the snow is falling all the time
Listen, the snow is falling ev’rywhere
Between your bed and mine
Between your head and my mind
Listen, the snow is falling all the time

And five weeks later, we finally realize, what the snow falling is. Not that I would be able to describe it in words–not because I am trying to be perverse or secretive—but because this is a place we go to that is not of the mind or of language but of the heart. There are unspeakable irresistible things in the dark, and there is magic, and palms of hands with eyes on them, and shallow breathing and snow falling like a veil over the world.

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