I’m really looking forward to working with playwright and master storyteller, Kevin Kling. Thanks to a MN Arts Board Grant, Kevin and I will be collaborating on adapting it to the stage, a children’s story I wrote called, The Land of Clowns, about where clowns came from, why they are here, and why they now live in circus tents.
I never thought of myself as a writer because I’ve performed without words my entire adult life. The problem began when my family and I moved next-door to Kevin Kling.
I must admit that I was a little star-struck when we became neighbors. I had memories of being impressed with Kevin as far back as 1981, when I saw him in a young theater troupe at the MN Renaissance Festival. As an outside observer Kevin seemed to be the one in charge, or at least the chief cook and bottle washer as the playwright, lead actor, and only juggler in the troupe. I also have an indelible memory of watching Kevin deftly climb Jacob’s Ladder as part of his gig with SAK Theater. Finally, when I saw Kevin’s one-man play, 21A at the Guthrie, I became a lifelong fan.
Kevin, Rosie and I live on an extraordinary block in Minneapolis. There are two photographers, three published authors, several actors, a couple of clowns, plus Rosie and I. When the block voted on who was the most eccentric I came in third, and Kevin came in fourth.
Maybe it’s the water.