The Memoirditorium

I'd build a 1200-seat theatre; gold embossed ceiling, plush seats that slope down so you could see everything on stage no matter how big the lady's hair in front.  I'd install an amazing sound system.  You could hear whispers.  I'd hang floor-to-ceiling velvet drapes trimmed in gold.  

I'd host workshops for families, coworkers, schools, clubs, or strangers.  I would be their guide, as they write their musical...about them.  The poems, prose, pain, dance, songs, hallelujahs, handclaps, and foot-stomps...all of it.  

They could invite everyone they know to come and see their Musical-of-Me.  Styles galore: Belfry-be-bop, post-modern, heel-clicking, rock-opera, girl-at-piano.  No limits.

There might be three people in the audience, or maybe there would be so many that we'd have to run that show for an entire month so everyone could see it.  But someone would always be there.  Someone wants to see their story.  Everyone's got a story.  They matter.