Hey Reader,

I've always loved the ocean. The waves, the space, the surprisingly cool air at night. But the first time I drove Pacific Coast Highway, I wasn't ready for the road itself. The bridge that felt hundreds of feet above. Curves pressed tight against the cliffside. A sheer drop sometimes, right at the edge of the lane.

I remember it didn't scare me. I could get close to this edge. Really close. And I didn't need to go over.

I've been thinking about what it means to know where the edge is.

In the booth, I know that edge. The line between performance that serves the story and performance that fights it. I was in a session recently, taking direction on a project, and line after line was coming through because I trusted the Audio Description writing, the timecode, the intent of what I was saying, and the context of what was on screen. The session had curves. Ups and downs. Stretches where I could drift toward the edge. Others where the guardrails were up.

Not unlike PCH.

And then not knowing the edge is an issue, actually two issues on both extremes. I got too close to the edge in conversations that went to places no party wanted them to go. The misunderstandings that carries for weeks and fester. The unnecessarily huge risks taken, when a little due diligence could have prevented consequences. I'm thinking of my last home where three floods, twelve studio relocations, and 3 bamboo flooring installs set me back in lots of ways. In those examples, sometimes I've gotten to the point where I'm not even on the road anymore, flying over the cliff, out of alignment.

And the other issue on the other extreme: I've pulled back entirely, my body resisting without knowing why. Saying no to opportunities offered to me, second guessing as made-up blocks that didn't even exist. I didn't even get close to the edge.

Both extremes, going over the cliff, and staying miles away from the road for fear of getting to close to the edge, come from the same thing: misunderstanding where the risk is because the edge wasn't identified.

Even once you know where the edge is, the risks don't disappear. But they become navigable. You grip the wheel, not white-knuckle it. You stay in the curve. And then the road changes, and you find it again.

When a performer finds that edge, the story carries all the way to the person who can't see the screen.

Next week, I'll have more to share. For now:

Something's coming in July.

Two live programs for Audio Description performers. One is about craft. One is about career. Both are small groups. Neither will be recorded.

Mark these:

July Mondays for craft.

July Tuesdays for career.

Or Mondays all the way through -- July into August -- if you want both in sequence.

Registration opens next week.

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Coming this Wednesday evening: The High Wire Act Free Webinar. Sign up

The High Wire Act.

Free live session

June 17, 6pm Pacific.

Sign up here:

​https://roysamuelson.kit.com/2026junewebinar​

Free Webinar June 17th 6pm Pacific