My middle name is Marshall. A lot of people think it's a stage name, but it's not.

When I'm acting, I like to think of myself as a non-actor, and a non-drummer when I'm drumming. It frees you up to not care how well you do.

I didn't go out for a soap until I moved to New York. I wasn't even considering soaps, but my agents talked me into it and said it's nice, steady work.

I graduated from a place called Whitworth College in Spokane with a theater degree, then in 1993 I moved to L.A. and auditioned and did very well there. My first gig was playing a skinhead in John Singleton's 'Higher Learning', and I played Glenn Close's son in a TV movie called 'Serving In Silence.'

I miss the physicality of drumming. There's immediateness about it that I'm always striving for in my acting. Maybe I'm in the wrong profession. I certainly wish I could spend more time pursuing music. It feels like a part of me I'm neglecting.

I've always believed acting is an improvisational art form, even when not a single line is changed. I mean, the behavior should always be improvised. My favorite moments in any performance are when I'm just along for the ride; when I'm surprising myself. I know when I'm done and I think to myself, 'Gee, I didn't see that coming,' I've done well.

Jazz music and, more specifically, jazz musicians, are my artistic heroes. I want to be the Thelonious Monk of acting. He had no concern for how well he was received. He played whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He just wasn't interested in achieving the good opinion of his audience. That's the Holy Grail of acting; of any art form.

Life does not accommodate you, it shatters you. It is meant to, and it couldn't do it better. Every seed destroys its container or else there would be no fruition.

No matter how old a mother is she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.

The crucial task of old age is balance: keeping just well enough, just brave enough, just gay and interested and starkly honest enough to remain a sentient human being.

Age puzzles me. I thought it was a quiet time. My seventies were interesting and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age.

It is not easy to be sure that being yourself is worth the trouble, but we do know it is our sacred duty.

My kitchen linoleum is so black and shiny that I waltz while I wait for the kettle to boil. This pleasure is for the old who live alone.