Hi, it's uh Marcus Youssef here with thought number seven, which I think might extend into thoughts number eight and nine. Um, thinking about Saturday night when, uh, my partner and I were invited to a party for someone in our community, who was connected to many theatre people. Um, and we didn't realize it -- we knew she was uh sick -- um but we didn't realize it was actually the party the night before she, uh, decided to, uh, end her life. So it was kind of like her assisted suicide party. Um, and I'm still absorbing that event. She, uh, killed herself yesterday at 2:00 p.m. Um, and by all accounts, it was extraordinarily beautiful. The party was, um, overwhelming and beautiful. And I'm out of time. But, um, one of the things that occurred to us is that this is the beginning of this ritual becoming a part of our lives. Um, now that this is a choice we in Canada can make legally. And it is going to change us. Um, yeah, and I'll talk more later.

Marcus Youssef here with thought number six.

At a production of a mainstream, big theatre musical and thinking about how it's illegal for me to take this picture. And how I really want to take a picture because this set's really beautiful -- I'm not going to say what the production is. The set's really, really beautiful. And yeah, it's just the risk -- this is a boring thought -- but the rigamarole around the photographic recording of performance. And what that does and doesn't mean, and how much time we've spent over the years just trying to get permission to share our work so that it can live.

Marcus Yousef here, this is thought number five.

Thinking about the ideology of busy-ness and its connection to technology. And how, you know, as we all know, like busyness can be sort of weaponized. Or I feel like I weaponize it in relationship to other people. "I'm so busy. I'm so busy." But how also that's a real thing. And the desire to feel useful. The excitement of working a lot. The way it can feel like a status symbol and how it's related to anxiety and panic. How all those things are weaved together.

Hi, it's Marcus Yousef, and this is my thought number four.

I'm staring at Jamie Long, my friend and often collaborator, as we write a screenplay adaptation of our play Winners and Losers in the same room that we wrote the play in ten years ago, or something like that. And just thinking about the long trajectory of projects. Or how when you start a project, you know, once in a while, one of those projects becomes actually a good chunk of what you're doing with your life. Or can. And how that both changes and stays the same over the course of many years. Or can.

Marcus Youssef here again, and this is thought number three. Thinking about two plays, An Octoroon and Fairview. Two remarkable plays that I love. I have yet to see productions, I've only read them. How those two plays -- which seem to be fundamentally changing the theatrical discourse about race and whiteness and the African-American experience or its relationship to culture in the U.S. -- were both commissioned and developed and had their first productions directed by Sara Benson. She runs Soho Rep in New York, in her mid to late 30s, maybe early 40s, and a white British woman. And how I kind of like that … Yeah.

My name is Marcus Youssef. I'm a bit throaty and this is my second thought. I'm thinking about my friends, theatre makers James Long and Maiko Yamamoto, who just won this Simonovtich Prize for directing. And thinking, particularly about something Maiko said to me when I was doing some work helping another company, pals of our’s, strategic plan. She said a question she was really interested in asking about her and Jamie was like, what if this is it? What if this company we have built, if this is what we're going to do for the rest of our lives? What if it's not like, “What's next? What's going to be different? What's going to change everything?” What if this is it? And I thought that was such a useful question.

Hey, my name's Marcus Youssef. This is my first thought.

Today, I'm thinking about transitions, as theater artists and for me, as a writer who's just come out of like two intense rehearsal periods and coming back to writing and spending the vast majority of the day by myself and how it feels utterly unfamiliar and terrifying. Although like seven weeks ago, it was – it felt utterly right and exactly what I should be doing.

My name is Julie Tamiko Manning and this is thought number twelve.

We all know that we should eat well, exercise, limit alcohol, and not smoke- but when I do all of those things and still feel like going back to bed, I feel like I am somehow failing at life. So...Today I’m going to FLIP IT! 

Who says I can’t change up what I expect from myself to succeed at life today? 

Have I hugged someone? Check. Laughed? Check. Made someone else laugh? Check. Looked someone in the eye and smiled? Said thank you? Check, check. Written a haiku in my head for no reason except- how else can I express my joy at this world but in a head-haiku? Check. 

My name is Julie Tamiko Manning and this is thought number ten.

I have been thinking all day of something to think about for this Thought Residency but I have come up with nothing and I think it’s because I’m in a very medium place right now.

I am not sad but I’m not happy, I am not stressed but I’m not chill, I am not waiting but I’m not settled, I’m just here and I’m not even trying to not be here so my thoughts are... just...here?