To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

Yesterday evening after our talk back with Syd Lieberman, I came home and cried. The fault was certainly not Lieberman’s; it was just that the afternoon had called me to confront all that pained me. And yet, oh the power of the right story to heal you, to inspire and lift and turn you around. Tonight, I return from Lieberman’s performance of "Intrepid Birdmen: Fighter Pilots of World War I” renewed in my love for and redeemed in my dream to one day create and tell stories so beautiful that they will have the capacity to move and transform, as his did me. It’s true that I might still fail, a ship on the floor of the sea, but I will at least have made the attempt. Lieberman’s piece was as extraordinarily written as it was flawlessly performed. His prose was factual, informative, detailed and imagistic. His register, tone and pacing shifted with the arc of the piece, paralleling a progression from heady adventure to heartbreaking tragedy. I approached him after the performance to thank him and tell him how wonderful it was to see his range. So tonight, I complete my last etymology with a nod to him by choosing the word “intrepid” from the Latin “intrepidus,” which means “unshaken, undaunted.” It’s a fitting sentiment for a parting post to all of you, my home skillets. May we all have the courage to keep the faith.