When You're Smiling

I spent the past weekend in New York City ostensibly to participate in a brain injury study, but also to visit friends, meet with collaborators on my solo show, and generally say yes to whatever adventure came my way. Which is pretty much my ideal New York weekend.

On Friday I spent the entire day participating in a battery of tests. There was blood work, an MRI, memory tests, questionnaires, and lots of good coffee to power me through all of the cognitive exercises. I’ve been participating in this study (LETBI) for about five years now and will continue to return every few years, as long as I can, so researchers can track how my brain changes over time.

At one point during the test, the researcher asked me a question I was not expecting:

“At what point in your life, post-accident, do you feel you reached your peak cognitively?”

I took a moment to think about it.

The accident happened when I was sixteen. For a long time afterward, I definitely wasn’t at my peak. I was in pain, physically and emotionally, and I spent years trying to outrun parts of myself that I didn’t want people to see. I hated being known as “the girl who got hit by a car,” and I thought being vulnerable somehow made me weak.

Eventually I looked up and answered as honestly as I could.

“A few years ago.”

The answer surprised me a little. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it had never occurred to me to think about my life that way.

When most people think about cognition, they probably think about memory or processing speed or test scores. What came to mind for me was something different. It took me a very long time to become comfortable in my own skin. A very long time to stop trying to be who I thought other people wanted me to be. A very long time to stop caring what people might be saying about me behind my back. It took a lot of work to let down my guard.

When I moved to New York in 2008, I walked around with a permanent scowl. It was the same scowl I wore when I moved to Connecticut in high school and the same one I used whenever I wanted people to think I was tough. It was armor, and honestly it served me for a long time.

But somewhere along the way, the armor got heavy.

New York helped chip away at it. Sobriety chipped away at it. Improv chipped away at it. Life chipped away at it.

Now when I visit New York, I notice something entirely different. I notice how direct and authentic people can be. One afternoon a woman stopped me on the street and asked, “Can I ask you something? Is my dress see-through in the back?” I checked. It wasn’t. She thanked me and continued on her way.

That’s New York.

People are direct. People just ask. People just answer.

There is an honesty there that I love and a sense that we’re all in this together.

This trip felt like a celebration of that spirit. I visited the Jim Henson workshop with Gum Gum and learned more about how Henson puppets are made. If you had told sixteen-year-old Amy that one day she would be carrying a puppet around New York City and talking shop with puppeteers, she would have had a lot of questions.

I also brought Gum Gum to an open mic in Brooklyn to try out some new material. The room was filled with supportive artists willing to take chances on new ideas and unfinished work. The material landed, people laughed, and I left feeling energized and grateful. There is something magical about being in a room full of people who are rooting for one another.

And then I got a tattoo, something I haven’t done in 20 years.

got a tattoo of The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai because lately that’s exactly what life feels like. I’m riding a wave that has taken me to Amsterdam, New York, Minneapolis, and into theaters, festivals, workshops, and conversations I never could have imagined a few years ago. I’m not steering it. I’m not controlling it. I’m just trying to stay on the board and enjoy the ride.

And while all of this was happening, the ticket link for Condemned to a Life officially went live.

The older I get, the less interested I am in protecting an image and the more interested I am in connecting with people. So while I was in New York, I told everyone about the show—the guy making my salad at the deli, a massage therapist, the owner of my new favorite consignment shop, friends, strangers, pretty much anyone willing to listen.

And every single time I shared my story, someone shared theirs.

For a few moments we held each other’s lives.

And then we moved on.

I think that’s what I’m after these days: connection.

That’s what I love about journalism. That’s what I love about improv. That’s what I love about puppetry. And that’s what I hope people find in Condemned to a Life.

While I was in New York, the ticket link for the show officially went live, which felt oddly fitting. Years ago I was trying desperately not to be defined by being hit by a car. This October I’ll return to New York to perform a solo show that explores some of the experiences that shaped my life and the person I’ve become.

The show opens in six weeks at the de Maat Theater in Chicago before heading to New York as part of the United Solo Festival. If you’d like to follow along, purchase a ticket, share the project with a friend, or support the production through Fractured Atlas, I’d be incredibly grateful.

The puppets alone cost $4,000, and there are still plenty of expenses ahead. Ambitious? Yes. Impossible? No.

Mostly, though, I’m grateful. Grateful for the people who continue to show up, cheer me on, share their stories, and remind me why I do this work in the first place.

Keep smiling, everybody.

More anon.

🎟️ Tickets for the United Solo performance in New York are now available:
https://unitedsolo.org/the-21st-annual-united-solo-theatre-festival/condemned-to-a-life/

🌊 Follow the show’s development, rehearsals, puppet builds, and behind-the-scenes updates: https://www.amykraft.org/condemned-to-a-life

❤️ Support the project through Fractured Atlas (tax-deductible donations):
https://fundraising.fracturedatlas.org/condemned-to-a-life

(Puppetry for Kids) Dear Tooth Fairy: And Other Very Important People | The Playground | June 20 at noon

(Improv) Grief Circle | Home Comedy Theater | June 20 at 8pm

(Improv) Grief Circle opening for Jimmy and Johnnie | Bughouse Theater | June 21 at 7pm

Condemned to a Life | de Maat Theater | August 13 at 9pm

Condemned to a Life | de Maat Theater | August 20 at 9pm

Condemned to a Life | de Maat Theater | August 27 at 9pm

(Puppetry) Conversations We Can’t Have | Impronale, Halle, Germany | October 2 at 10pm

Three-Day Workshop: Improvising with Puppets (bring a sock because you’ll be making your own puppet) | Impronale, Halle, Germany | October 1–3