Look out, Brantley – you've got an ingénue on your heels.

I feel like I should start off by saying this: introductions are quite difficult.

Since I was a little tot, I’ve never been one to sprint up to people and dazzle them with my pigtails and before-my-time discussions of Barney – I stayed back and observed. I grew up quiet, and as far as I can gather, that’s exactly how I liked it. I grew elaborate worlds and fantasy lands in my head, and when I hit a certain age I realized that the only place that had worlds and stories as expansive and wild as mine was very special, and could be found almost anywhere – the stage.

I saw my first Broadway show when I was six. It was the Chicago production of The Lion King, and all I remember was that the puppeteer playing the dodo bird was the funniest. I moved on to Wicked in seventh grade, and remember being taken back by the elaborate staging, the wild fantasy world built in such a small place; something that had me whisked off to Oz long after the curtain fell. Following up a magical world with a true story, that of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons in Jersey Boys, I knew that I had hit something different. A musical fascination had been brought out, and it hasn’t died down.

Since then I’ve seen countless high school productions, and two national tours that have brought me to tears. I can’t quite put into words the effect musicals have on me, but I do know that they should be shared – and I intend to share them with others.

After college, I’d like to take the role of the New York Times's theater critic Ben Brantley, albeit less crotchety and with much better hair. I love theater, from local all the way to international, and I can’t wait to share it with the community...and someday, the world.