 We're back with Bill. Sorry about the technical difficulties. Someone might have hit a button wrong. I'm not naming names. In the meantime, however, we have, and actually I'm making a joke. Chewy didn't do anything. It wasn't Chewy. But there has been an interruption with the Hopin2 platforms. We're inviting our audience that's registered to join us watching the live stream on HowlRound. Yay, HowlRound! We would love for you to enjoy the art shares now. Ready? Boys, I've never done this. I feel like in some ways I'm just not. The short answer, numb. I am feeling a lot of things. I'm learning how to take things slower, learning to embrace time for introspection. I'm feeling split, super unambitious, but also full of righteous fury. A little overwhelmed, lost, lucky that I have a good support system of family and friends, but feeling super disconnected from all of them. I am feeling frustrated, stressed out, anxious, depressed, angry. Grief and depression and feeling trapped, and surges of creativity and creativity. I feel weird in general about this new way of connecting and communicating with people, which involves me staring into a screen and watching myself talk. I am trying to cultivate hope, to look at what I cannot change and release that, and to look at what I do have choices in and make the choices that I can in the best way possible. There's just so much to take in and as an artist and someone who cares about their fellow human, nothing surprises me anymore, and that in turn I just feel kind of numb to it all. I feel like I want to just sit there and do nothing and I have to pick and choose my battles. And so one of the things that I've easily been able to cut out is art. I do, I yearn ensemble, I yearn for community, I yearn for expression with others. I think I want to want to do art, I do want to do art, but I'm finding it difficult. But I can't make art the way that Sandbox makes art in the room with other people. And what kind of asshole films all this shit at night? I have to do, so just do. And there's that end and then there's the other end, which is I'm not the right person. Nobody really needs to hear from me as an artist, as some cisgendered white woman who, anyway, I don't think I want to create or make art and that makes me sad and breaks my heart. I'm interested in the intimacy. I really miss making art with people. That's the only way that I know how to do it really well, I think. I miss the sense of community that creating art brings me. We all black back away. She does so. The artist and lady do not move. Blackout, dance music frauds. Anita Hollin, you're here sitting at my piano in Hell's Kitchen, New York to sing you a song from my one-legged solo musical, Spectacular Falls, because I think it best describes what was to be, what is now, and what is yet to come. In a separate screen, my sister, Reverend Rachel Hollander, will be interpreting the song in American Sign Language. Stay strong, everybody.