Diagnosed with a progressive illness at the time of her daughter’s birth, Anna made the decision to give her daughter, Una, up for adoption when she was just 2 weeks old. Twenty-seven years later, Anna feels compelled to contact Una in order to pass on her inheritance, “some good and some not so good.” Anna’s illness has begun to affect her daily function. She assumes her daughter was raised by the privileged family who adopted her, but soon discovers a very different story.
Set in the beautiful isolation of a farmhouse in Northwest Connecticut, Anna and Una’s short time together highlights their differences as well as the electrical/chemical/spiritual current that has always connected them–an unbreakable bond that can either be acknowledged or dismissed.
The reference to the Silver Stream comes from the way my mother talked about the thin line between life and death. The last year of her life, I was her caretaker, and I felt our deep bond.
Then I met a woman who was adopted and who performed a solo show about meeting her biological mother. Surprisingly, the meeting filled her with rage. Afterward, she felt emotionally zapped. She could no longer put her mother back into the category in which she had kept her for so many years. It felt in the end like the request and meeting had been an invasion of sorts.
Then one day, my good friends invited me to a farmhouse that they rented as a space for artists to come and stay and work on their projects. The house, surrounded by woods, just happened to have a small lake with very clear, clean water. Almost like a silver stream.
My story emanated from that setting, as if the house were a character, too, holding my story so I could write it. In the end, the story is the house and me, exploring how life is right underneath us, challenging us to bond and knit together, to transform into our next possibility with fullness and grace. Leading with the heart, holding onto darkness, trusting that together there will be transformation.