I sat in the first row and managed to sketch out these awful drawings of Philip Seymour Hoffman and Linda Emond in the Broadway revival of Athur Miller's Death of a Salesman. This play deeply affected me and I will most likely remember it for the rest of my life. (In particular being 2 feet away from Hoffman.) Are we not all Willy Loman? So many questions I have yet to resolve about this play.