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Writer's pictureSara Sharpe

Letter 3: Quicky Catch Up

Updated: Jun 1, 2023


Dear Friend,


Before we go any further, perhaps some catching up is in order?


I’m currently living in Chattanooga, TN, where I grew up, with my husband Jim. I finally left Nashville a few years ago, after two decades. Leaving was bittersweet, but it was time to come home. I moved to music city, all those years ago, to start a theatre company called BroadAxe Theatre, which produced “socially and politically engaged theatre” (whatever that is). I’m still intensely proud of the work we produced there. Do you remember I was an actor once upon a time?


While in Nashville, in addition to acting in and producing some great shows, I wrote a three-part docudrama, a little book, an original play, and I did a lot of coaching. At one point, I (and many others) experienced a true shattering in every sense of the word. I didn’t function for a while, to put it mildly. I then put my life back together, slowly (very slowly) but surely, and then - after years of living hand to mouth as an artist - deigned to accept my first 9-5 job ever as Communications Coordinator for the Nashville Public Defender’s Office: one of the great honors of my professional career. A few years later I fell in love (my ship came in finally, you’ll be happy to know), quit my job and moved home to Chattanooga. Jim and I got married in our living room in front of the fire, with flowers I bought at the grocery store and a cat asleep on my feet. I’ve had some health challenges, but beyond that I’ve been so blissfully, incandescently happy that my biggest struggle has been accepting my newfound joy without guilt.


Those years in Nashville were thrilling and productive right up until they weren’t. I made good art and catastrophic mistakes. I survived. We all survived. And here we are.


I like to think those mistakes instilled in me a newfound tolerance. I can tell you, friend, that my mistakes were so profound; so devastating; so consequential, that it would be patently ridiculous of me to mete out judgement towards anyone at any time for any reason.


That must be worth something, don’t you think?


Love,


Sara



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