You are probably here because you want one simple thing: to make art, not sit with tax forms and spreadsheets at midnight. The short answer is yes, you can get…
The floor hums faintly underfoot. Light leaks through gaps in a plywood wall, striping the concrete like fragments of a broken film reel. Somewhere nearby, a door slams, but the…
You step into a darkened warehouse. At first, it is just plywood, paint, and the faint smell of sawdust. Then someone hits the work lights, and flat pieces of lumber…
A corridor hums with soft fluorescent light. Beige walls. A TV droning somewhere in the background. A curtain half open on a metal track. If you have done set design,…
You walk into a dark warehouse on the near east side. The air smells like sawdust and paint. Someone flicks a breaker, and the whole space comes alive: pools of…
The porch light is low, the air is a little cool, and the boards under your feet have that soft, familiar creak. Someone turns on a simple clip-on light, and…
The house on the corner looks different tonight. Porch light on, shadows clean and sharp, siding the color of dusk right before stage lights warm up. If you walk past…
Light spills across the set like it has weight. The actor settles into a low velvet chair, fingers tracing the carved armrest while the audience leans in a little closer…
The chair is still warm from the last rehearsal. A coffee cup sits on the prop table, half full, its ring burned into the wood like a tiny eclipse. The…
The stage lights are still warm, the paint on the flats smells faintly of glue, and someone in the back row is arguing about sightlines. You are trying to remember…