I’ve always felt a little guilty as an actor when it came to my relationship with the things I was given—the set and props and costumes so painstakingly and skillfully created or obtained for me to use. Like someone was gifting me with the last pieces I needed to be complete, a puzzle or a robot, or a sandwich. Even if I’d helped paint or organize costumes I always ended up feeling like a houseguest onstage. Wearing someone else’s clothes, using someone else’s hand soap, walking someone else’s floors…in a play like Vanya, it was essential to know the ins and outs of the “house.” Of all people, Sonyechka was certainly not a guest there. Coming in and spending intimate time, looking hard not at just the whole picture but one piece of it for hours maybe. Getting to know a bookshelf intimately, painting every corner. High up on a wobbly ladder, texturing the walls of the arch room. Stepping onto the wooden floors I’d stained was so different from stepping onto magically pre-stained floors. Beyond the spirituality of knowing the set more intimately, I got to bug Sonya about her tricks and how she learned them. Watching a master at work is always a joy, especially when she trusts you to help her out. It reaffirmed my belief that the more time you spend with something, the easier it is to love.