Tempe, AZ - Moulin Rouge at Gammage — and My Art on the Walls!

Thursday night was one for the books. I had the absolute pleasure of seeing Moulin Rouge at ASU Gammage, and from the very first beat, I was swept into the glittering, heart-thumping whirlwind of music, passion, and pure theatrical magic. The songs are still dancing in my head!

But what made the night unforgettable wasn’t just what happened onstage—it was what surrounded it.

All around the theater, four different galleries were filled with my Paris-inspired artwork—about 35 pieces in total. From the view above the ticket booth to the hallway near Portal 10, my photographs of rooftops, street cafés, churches, and markets—each a captured memory from the City of Light—were on display for all to see.

To stand among those works during a show that celebrates the spirit of Paris? That was a high point in my life. Truly. Seeing guests stop, smile, and snap photos of the art filled me with gratitude and a deep sense of joy. I also ran into two coworkers, Lynn and Tami, and was so pleased to tell my story.

So if you're headed to Moulin Rouge at Gammage, be sure to look around before the curtain rises. Paris is in the building—in more ways than one.

Tempe, AZ A Tiger Named Richard Parker, and the Power of Storytelling

Reflections on Life of Pi at ASU Gammage

From the moment the curtain rose at Gammage, I was transported. The lighting, set, and overall mood immediately immersed me in Pi’s world - a space where family, community, and cultural backdrop mattered. It wasn’t flashy or loud; it was deeply rooted, quietly establishing the emotional and spiritual landscape of the story.

The puppetry in Life of Pi was nothing short of remarkable. The animals were not just convincing - they were alive with presence and purpose. Richard Parker, the tiger, was especially unforgettable. His movements, expression, and behavior were so nuanced that he became a character as real as Pi himself. His evolution through the story, including the eerie and unexpected shift when he took on a French identity, left me both intrigued and unsettled.

One moment continues to linger in my mind: when Pi retells his story, replacing the animals with people. The shift was jarring, emotional, and masterfully done. That duality - between myth and memory, survival and sorrow—was profoundly moving. It challenged me to reflect on the purpose of storytelling and the truths we choose to carry.

The themes of Life of Pi came through with clarity and power. Survival, faith, and the human need for narrative were woven through each scene, each interaction. I especially appreciated the treatment of religion - not heavy-handed, but gently interwoven with Pi’s identity, giving light to what can often be a weighty conversation.

Though I hadn’t read the book and only had a loose sense of the plot, the story surprised me as it unfolded. Visually stunning, emotionally rich, and thought-provoking, Life of Pi is a production I would recommend to all audiences. It’s more than a play—it’s an experience of wonder, belief, and the strength of the human spirit.