My company is starting an improv class tonite and I'm excited and terrified all at once. I know it's important to step outside my comfort zone. It's going to be interesting and I expect I shall learn more about my colleagues, while hoping that they don't learn too much about me that might shatter my carefully constructed image. Come on, you know I'm kidding. My image these days is rather embarrassing: i've gained a bunch of weight (think of me as Angelina Jolie, in reverse) and my age has begun to tell on me. Thing is, In a lot of ways, being a writer is a very safe occupation, a very safe life. You do plenty of observation, keep to yourself, think, overthink, go into analysis paralysis (what could be more natural in the isolation tank?), and drink (if you're lucky enough to still have that particular activity on your dance card.) (I don't.). Of course though, improv is a huge opportunity to look like a doofus, and I expect I shall, since I do that anyway, improv or not.
There was a time when I was a pretty dandy actress, and quite good at improv. Playwrights and screenwriters used me time and again to workshop kinks out of their latest projects headed for stage or screen. I always enjoyed the process. Of course, it was fun being the center of attention when I weighed like a hundred-and-ten soaking wet, and the needle fell on the forgiving side of forty.
But now, here I am, several years later, in a different profession, feeling my age creeping up on me like, well, like a cringeworthy ex-boyfriend creeping on FaceBook. What am I to do?
Well, okay. The first thing I have to do is remember to let go of any concept of control. Seeking control is not the way to get to the juice, and it's a surefire way to alienate and estrange. So let me relax, breathe, smile, and watch. Let me put out my hand to whatever the PTB want me to touch. Let me listen. And let me enjoy. After all, why not have fun with life? We're only here a short while (as I'm becoming painfully aware), and life has stocked a million mysteries for you, if you only allow the fairies to uncover them. Not only that, but every time i've tried to tap out the word "Improv" my left middle finger completes the word with an "E."
So there, scaredy-cat .
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Posted by: Account Deleted | May 30, 2012 at 02:54 AM