Though I have been working in theatre for many years as a lighting designer, this show was the first play that I ever wrote, and when it premiered in 2011, it was the first time I ever performed on stage. When we started creating it, we had to come up with a theatrical device to explain why I, a non-actor, was the one on stage telling this story. We decided that the show would take the form of a lighting demonstration, and then, out of that experimentation, lighting became a metaphor for life. 

I shared with the audience the tricks of my trade, I made them aware of the lighting and how it affects storytelling. I wrote an ode to my favourite instrument: the PAR can, to show how it gets warmer as it dims—and it made people cry because they thought about my mother’s life fading away. 

I showed them how to disappear on stage and by doing that I made sure my mother would never disappear; now she lives in the minds of all of the people who see the show. Some of my favourite comments about the show have come from directors in the industry who tell me they learned more about lighting design in one hour of watching my show than in twenty years of directing.