The year is 2001. We are teching FairLy Tales at the Gate. Stephen and I sneak out. We come here to watch the Royal Tenenbaums. I don't think Andrew or Ciaran know.
The year is 2017. I sneak out, here, again, to watch dear friends on stage performing a dream that started long ago.
Taste of optimistic melancholy of how times are changing. Life is beautiful.