My mom was a very productive playwright. I remember a poster for one of her shows. It was at Columbus Circle and all the subway stops in New York. The poster was a picture of my mom putting up her own poster, that was the joke of the poster. It was always a victim of graffiti. Sometimes my mom got her teeth blackened. Sometimes she got a mustache, or little word balloons filled with filth that my mother would very rarely say. What I learned was that when you're an artist, you put stuff out there. The feelings people have about it are out of your control.