ANYTHING YOU DO, LET IT COME FROM YOU.

"Anything you do, let it come from you. Then it will be new. Give us more to see..."

-Stephen Sondheim, Sunday In The Park With George

In moments of doubt, I turn to my right forearm.

Or, rather...I turn to the lyrics inked on my right forearm.

Those deceptively simple words of Stephen Sondheim struck a chord with me the first time I heard them while watching the PBS capture of his musical theatre masterpiece. It felt like an 18-word pep talk that Sondheim had succinctly given to that younger version of me - from the Booth Theatre stage into that 1984 camera lens, out through my TV, and directly into my soul. And now...on my forearm.

A permission to create. 

As an actor, I never really thought of myself as a creator. I enjoyed interpreting other people's dialogue and lyrics and injecting my personality and tone into the foundation that had already been laid. I was perfectly content to stay within the traditional boundaries of the role of thespian. You write it, I'll act it. Eight shows a week, production by production, I relished in the navigation of digging into someone else's words in front of a live audience. I loved the challenge of repeating a performance night after night, attempting to make it feel like the first time each time. I was content with the life I had always dreamed of for myself here in New York CIty.

...Until I wasn't. 

An idea was itching at the back of my brain. One that would require me to step outside the safe boundaries of the acting profession I was pursuing. One that would require a lot of time and energy and research. And one that would require business acumen. 

A tour of the Theatre District. 

Channeling my 25-year-old fearlessness, and a great love of deep dive research - and with a belief that the business "stuff" would come later - the only thing that I was lacking was to give myself permission to create. Enter: the lyrics of Stephen Sondheim. The idea for a walking tour wasn't novel. There were plenty of tours in New York City and beyond. But as long as this idea came from me and was infused with my DNA, it would be new. 

My first concoction was a 7-hour tour of the 40 Broadway theaters that were open at the time. Granted, I didn't intend for it to be that long. But without a dress rehearsal or an out-of-town tryout, my first "performance" was also the first time I'd said any of it out loud! It was an audience of one: my friend Corey. A game participant who was up for anything, if there ever was one. I still remember that April day: it was brilliantly sunny, but winter had yet to relinquish her chilly talons. The entire tour was spent - while trying to remember the facts, stories, and dates that were all crammed into my brain - looking for all of the sunny spots along my predetermined route so that my solo participant could warm up! (Little did I know just how much of my life I'd spend in the coming years finding the EXACT Theatre District spots that were sunny or shady to navigate groups in every type of weather, all year round...and just how much money I would spend on complimentary hand warmers!) 

And while that first tour was much too long, the seeds of my idea had been sown. Now, to plant my garden.

I started to till the sidewalks, mining them for alluvial soil rich with Broadway stories. I began to notice every "tree": the humans bustling with energy to make each production come alive. What stories did each creative soul contain within them? I started to dig. Amid my burrowing, I began to realize that tours, like flowers, needed to be tended to in order to flourish. Instead of a tour of every theater in one, why not separate those roots into multiple tours that can grow in tandem? And while direct sunlight works great for exterior tours, what about applying a greenhouse effect with interior tours? Basking in the glow of Tiffany glass at the Hudson Theatre or standing inches from the carved bumblebees of the New Victory Theater provided the perfect warmth. Day by day, month by month, my Broadway Up Close garden spread its vines, leaves, and stories along the pavement of Times Square. But the true manifestation of this flowerbed (and the last of this floral metaphor...) would be finding somewhere to take root. 

The anchor of my entire operation came to fruition on April 19, 2019 when I plugged in the lights of my BROADWAY Sign in Times Square, standing tall next to the Gift Shop I had painstakingly created with the design genius of the Tinman-to-my-Scarecrow, Chris Kind. Sure, Broadway Gift Shops weren't a new idea. But with my fingerprints all over it, and those Sondheim lyrics that had never failed me, I knew ours would be new: handmade souvenirs that bring Broadway to life in a tangible way.And then, well, you just keep moving on. Year by year, ornament by ornament, story by story, bit by bit, I put it all together. What started out as Broadway Up Close Walking Tours is now, more simply, Broadway Up Close. 

Tours. Gifts. Workshops. 

Entertaining. Tangible. Educational. 

This past Thursday marked fifteen years of creating, researching, exploring, and touring. And as of this month, our stories have spread to 73,097 of you. If you're reading this, it means you're a part of that. And from the bottom of my heart I have to say thank you. Look at all the things you've done for me: Opened up my eyes. Taught me how to see. Notice every tree. Understand the light. Concentrate on now.And for the next 15 years and beyond, I vow to give you more to see...

P.S. After posting about our 15-year benchmark on Instagram earlier this week, a few of you reached out asking for a photo from those early days. I present to you this photo of 25-year-old me posing for our first website photo (in Union Square for some unknown reason!). And yes, that facial hair is a post-Altar-Boyz chin strap and soul patch that THANKFULLY is a thing of the past!