When I started at Intermission, my world was limited to the confines of an armchair. Arts journalism was a high it felt dangerously fruitless to chase. The life stretched ahead of me was amorphous and frightening, a chasm filled with hand sanitizer and immigration concerns. It was worth crying over a spilled kombucha and scrubbing at the stain.
By Aisling Murphy /Jan 22, 2025
iPhoto caption: J. Kelly Nestruck headshot courtesy of The Globe and Mail.
It was World Theatre Day last Thursday, in case you missed it. In equally relevant world news, it was recycling day on my street last Tuesday, in case you missed it.