With a glass of red wine in hand, I paced the two rooms of my apartment and puzzled over her remarks. Brave and together? Me? Continue reading If You Aren’t in Over Your Head, How do You know How Tall You Are? Attributed to T.S. Eliot, source unknown
As a puppeteer I’d been telling stories to young audiences at private parties, schools, and other venues for many years, but performing as an entertainer was wearing on me. I wanted to stretch myself, create work that would appeal to … Continue reading The Sixth Sense of a Story
From a series of essays on my life in puppetry Puppetry is an art form and I wanted to perfect it. I knew I would never perform in public unless I trained with a professional. I found Hans Schmidt who … Continue reading “I Know How You Did That!”
“Hello, Susan Marcus? “Yes, who’s calling, please?” “This is Karen Smith. [name changed to protect myself!] You’re the puppet lady?” “(Clears throat) Yes, I am a puppeteer.” “And you do birthday parties?” “All the time, but I’m booked up for … Continue reading A Bizarre Birthday Bash
She leaves the book splayed on her breakfast table and rinses her cereal bowl in the sink before returning to the table with a small cup of coffee. Her electric espresso machine makes a doppio nearly comparable to those she … Continue reading No Regrets
My career in puppetry had its roots in a childhood fascination with puppet shows and their characters, stages, props, and sets. Long before the 1969 premier of Sesame Street, Chicago-area children like me could watch a bevy of puppets on … Continue reading She Becomes a Puppeteer
Passersby gathered near the arguing pair of men. With his sharp chin, one man in a silly, high-pitched voice taunted a roly-poly policeman then hit him with a flat stick, on top of his head and across his belly. As … Continue reading Pleased as Punch
It’s October 1993. Our son Ben is working in Boston during a gap year between college and medical school. Stephen, my husband, and I, intending to check out Ben’s apartment and see how he’s doing, pack our bags and visit … Continue reading October 1993
Stories that evoke our deepest pains, like our regret for withholding love from those closest to us, like a need to fill the void of their absence, or our inconsolable calls to their spirits—in the dark, in the shower, or … Continue reading Of Love and Regret
Next to the kitchen’s French doors hung a cage large enough for several uccelli or songbirds, gorging on grains and figs or singing their full-throated calls. Continue reading Birdsong in the Kitchen
