From staged readings to original plays about Jeffrey Dahmer, three drama geeks are exposing the hidden underbelly of San Diego’s cultural scene
By Sarah Nardi
There’s a reason we picture artists in garrets, forlorn and smoking, staring out at the rain. In our collective imagination, misery and creation are inextricably linked. Art is something that comes from the depths—from the stormy, windswept corners of our soul. It comes from New York, London, Berlin—places where the physical environment matches the turmoil within.
It doesn’t come from San Diego.
“This city is good at promoting three things,” says Justin Hudnall. “Weather, fish and football. But if you want to be an artist, you almost have to go somewhere else.”