Every week, I’ll be doing a mini feature on my site on activists, artists, and educators who are doing important things in the world. Like Levar Burton says, the only thing these folks have in common is that I like them, and I hope you do too.
Today’s #badasscrushfriday is Lizz Ehrenpreis.
Confession: I’ve known and loved Lizz for about seventeen years. We first met as salty teenagers, performing together in a Shakespeare summer workshop production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. She got to play Hermia (a role I’d desperately wanted), and I was stuck playing a two-bit mechanical. Though we had a rocky start, we’ve been the thickest of thieves ever since.
Lizz is a wildly talented and passionate person. Her lion heart loves fiercely, and she’s always doing something amazing. She’s one of those almost-unfairly skilled people who can sing, act, write, paint, and make mosaics. She advocates for young people, she helps trauma babies, and she loves murder podcasts. She’s a super weirdo, and the world needs more of her.
Where can we find your work?
What part, if any, do you think art plays in times of political duress?
Every morning, her body showed up early and her mind showed up late. Smoke twirled from the cigarette between her fingers, nails glistening with color, as she sipped on a hot coffee, and thought to herself, “Some day, I’m going to be a better person.” The scenery changed over the years: a crumbling wooden porch in the dusty California country, a fuzzy blue chair from Target on a patio where the ocean salted her lips, leaning out the window of a Los Angeles high rise, the alley way in a small town posing as a big city, the cement stairs stairs stained by rain and shaded by camellias. But each day, every day, she still woke up as herself.