Changes

Changes are scary, always have been and probably will always be. If you're like me, you have a tendency to think too far ahead, and your thoughts tend to steer toward the negatives. Then you waste a lot of time worrying about nothing and freaking out for no reason, instead of being present, looking around, and realizing that change can be a good think.

I should have learned long ago that you can't plan life. Many things happen unexpectedly, and instead of freaking out about that, why not see it as exciting? A few years ago I worried that I would have nothing to do once I graduated from college, then I found improv. I worried about not being able to get into grad school, then I got in. I worried about moving to Canada, then I decided not to go. There are always options, always new things getting tossed at you, and that isn't always bad.

I wanted change. Since the beginning of the year I realized that many things in my life were not working, and I desperately needed something to change. I just didn't know how to make it happen, and since changes were so scary it was difficult to take that first step. But then life threw a curve ball at me. After nearly a year of intended unemployment--I wanted to take the time off to do the things I cared about instead of making money--I have finally reentered the workforce. It's not to make money but to help my parents out. They own a restaurant, and some of their employees were leaving, so they needed someone to fill in until they could hire new workers, however long that may be.

At first I freaked out. I didn't know if I could deal with the extra things in my schedule. I didn't know if I could do the job that I didn't particular like and sacrifice my time for it. Above all, I didn't know how I could stand being away from the Brody. For a year and a half it had been something I heavily committed to, and now I wouldn't be able to be there all the time and doing the tasks I had been doing almost every week. I was sick of those tasks and needed a break from them, but I didn't think it would be without a choice. That it happened this way was unexpected and terrifying, but once I calmed down I realized that it was all for the best.

I'm making money now. I can afford to buy frivolous things and take expensive improv classes. I learn how to pace myself so that I can still make time and preserve energy for my writing. Aside from missing a few shows each week, not much of my previous life was changed or terminated. In fact, it was nice to be busy and to have somewhere to go. It feels great to be helping my parents out. We don't get along all that well, so that I've been trying to avoid them as much as I could. But now it's time to start the healing process.

I try to spend more time with friends. When you work hard you also have to play hard to balance things out. It gives me something to look forward to after work. Great conversations, mild drinking and watching movies are enough to make my night.

I meditate and practice mindfulness. It reminds me to calm down and appreciate the good side of everything. I still freak out sometimes, but I've been getting better at catching myself doing it and telling myself to stop. I know I'll probably be dealing with anxieties all my life, but at least now I'm learning how to cope with them.

Everything's Coming Up Roses!

So much is happening right now. My first Theatresports show went well, and I got invited to do two more shows, one on New Year's Even and another sometime in February.

I did stand-up for the second time--the first time being 7 1/2 months ago. It also went well, and I'm planning to do it again tomorrow and continue to do it regularly, at least for a while.

I had an audition for a play reading last Sunday, and just got a call today that I got the part. This is my first role since high school, and I'm ecstatic.

I've been dong a lot of tarot readings lately, asking questions about love and relationship. The cards keep giving me answers about my career instead. I guess I'll be single for a while, but at least I'll get to do what I love!

On my own...

I used to have improv class on Monday night--now I don't. So now I am free on Monday and Tuesday and have been so for a few weeks. Sadly, I have no one to hang out with. I wanted to spend the free time with my friends, but nobody is available. So I have to learn to keep myself occupied.

One of the things that have been keeping me happy is showtunes. I know that sounds really gay, but it's the truth. I've been listening to so many cast recordings, discovering songs and stories that make me so happy. I've been singing so much showtunes I think my voice is getting higher.

Another thing is Netflix. It's like my life support. I don't know how I had survived before Netflix, and I don't want to know how to ever live without it. I just re-watched all three seasons of "Arrested Development" and It Was Just Banging Awesome. Don't you ever wonder why, after all these years, no other shows have managed to surpass that level of greatness?

Anyway, I'm going to be performing in Theatresports for the first time next week. I'm excited as well as nervous. I went to a party last night (Thursday) and invited a lot of people to come see the show, so hopefully they will all show up as they promised. (I'd be overwhelmed even if only half of them showed--love you guys!) So that's another thing that's keeping me occupied now. I'm going to be doing so many acting/improv exercises to prepare for the show, making sure you all have a good time.

Until next time.

Bitchin' About Improv

Ian, one of my former improv teachers, never let me or other students get away with using our hands to mime objects while I was studying with him. Many young improvisers tend to turn their hands into guns or phones on stage, but nothing else; that is to say, when their characters are holding a can of soda, they don't use their hands to mime the can or the liquid inside it, but when they pick up the phone their thumbs and pinkies automatically spread, the three fingers in the middle curl. It took a long time and a lot of effort on Ian's part for me to finally get rid of the habit. The other teachers I have agree with this rule, but no one is as strict about it--perhaps because it's not as severe as, say, denying an offer--but I wish they were, because right now seeing improvisers miming these objects is one of the things that annoy me the most. I have a friend who not only mimes guns and phones, but hats and underwears and whatever else she could imagine. My thought is this: 1) Wouldn't it be ignorant for the other performer to overlook the sudden absence of her arms while taking notes of her big, pointy hat? 2) What would she do if suddenly she needs to use her hands, dropping the hat? and 3) Wouldn't other methods be more successful?

Not too long ago I played a character with three arms. It was a spontaneous endowment that I came up with right as I was on stage. Within a second, while I myself was still absorbing the information, another improviser jumped out to play my third arm. Had that not happened, I would use "stage painting," which is stating that there's a third arm attached somewhere to my body, and pretend that it's there. I prefer what actually happened, because it allowed me to work with the other improviser to create my character. The third arm subsequently became another character. However, I wouldn't have disliked the second method, because not only does it not limit my physicality on stage (by having to use a part of my body to mime the third arm) but also allows the audience to use their imagination to create the arm into whatever they want it to be. If I made it clear enough they would know it was there; there would be no need to mime it when I could just manifest it out of thin air.

A few months ago I played a character with magical powers. It wasn't one of my finest moment (imagine that!) but I did enjoy using magic. This is what I love about what we do. It could be said that on stage you can be anyone and anything, but on improv stage you can really be anyone and anything. I am freer than I can be anywhere else. To limit myself physically or any other ways in improv would be to take that that power away, and what would be the fun in that?

Art & Life

EXACTLY a year ago--I looked this up and couldn't believe what I found--I saw a play called "Dog Sees God," a spin-off of Charles M. Schulz's Peanuts. I was so moved by the story and inspired by the great performances of these young and incredibly talented actors. I went home thinking about how much I wanted to do that. I went and saw the play again two weeks later. It wasn't long afterward that I went to Ashland and finally decided that I really needed to find my way back into performing art somehow. It was then that I found an ad on Craigslist advertising the Brody.

Tonight I got to do a short improv jam session with two of the show's actors, Joel and Lissie. I had learned a few months ago that the director of the show, Brian, was a performer at the Brody, whom I saw on regular basis--I was ignorant enough to not have read his name in the program. Brian had brought them to the Brody to jam with us. I had a great time, and felt like my theater life had come in full-circle.

Art is important. I don't think we believe that enough. We may admit it, but in the end it seems that most of us still value other things above art. As I stood before those two performers after the jam, describing to them how their show had brought me to where I am, I realized how powerful artists are. Indeed those people had changed my life. And every time you get on stage you have a chance to do exactly that. It may be one performance out of three, twelve, or a hundred that you do of one particular show, but you have no idea who's out there in the audience, and how much you can do for them simply by doing what you love and doing it well.

I have to work with people who couldn't give less shit about the opportunity given to them, people who abuse the stage and the art form because they don't care. I'm glad I'm not one of them. I'm pissed that I have to work with them. But I'm sure that if I work hard enough I won't have to run the same race with them forever.

"Primal Compulsion" and what it means to me

I'm doing lights for this long-form show at the Brody. Actually, I do lights for a lot of shows at the Brody, but this is the first show for which I was officially asked to do this particularly task. It makes me happy for two reasons: 1) I feel much more confident with what I'm doing after getting to know exactly what the director actually wants from me, and; 2) The rehearsals so far have been some of the funniest moments I have ever spent at the theater or anywhere in my life. I get a great abs workout during every one of them from laughing so hard. I really believe in this show; I think anybody who has never been to the Brody before will keep coming back after seeing this one, which is why I'm trying so hard to get people to come see the show despite not being on stage myself.

I am also very grateful to my friend Manuel Hall, the director of the show, for giving me this opportunity, which came at the time when I needed it most. There was a guy that I liked, who probably had zero interest in me. I was in a state of mild depression combined with significant loneliness and a sense of worthlessness I hadn't felt it a while. Getting to do the show meant that I was busier and had less time to think about negative things, and my focus was taken away by something that I enjoyed and the people that I loved being around. In some ways it saved my life by filling me with a lot of happiness.

I offered to make the poster for the show, simply because I had the time and had been aching to do something like this again. I used to make a whole lot of posters and fliers for the Queer Resource Center, back when I was in college and volunteering for them regularly. Recently I've been appreciation certain skills, such as poster making, that I have learned and developed when I was younger, as they are still useful in my services for others. I enjoyed making this poster a lot, and hope you all like it too.