My exercise was too close to me today. 90% of my backstory was completely true. Which means when she came in and told me I was making an ass out of myself, she was telling me I was making an ass out of myself. And I had to wonder if I really am.
The teacher thought I needed more prep or deeper stakes or something - I was completely invested and I don't know that I could have prepped more. It is possible that it didn't all show - he didn't ask questions that covered all of the bases I had thought of. But I should have been able to show those things and I didn't. He thought that what I had put together was good in a couple of respects, weak in a couple of others. And my partner told me afterward that I am fun to work with. I enjoyed working with her quite a bit, too, even though in the moment-to-moment work of the scene, she was driving me crazy and making me feel like shit.
And I brought home the feelings of shit. I know I shouldn't, but I did and just a moment ago, I got almost unspeakably sad and I'm not exactly sure why. Failure in class can be a good thing because you can learn from it. And there was one guy today who made up his own sort of homework assignment, completely missing the boat regarding what these activities are supposed to be, so at least mine wasn't as bad as his. And some of my classmates are still talking about an exercise I did earlier in the week, so I must be doing something right somewhere. But today my exercise was about me and I was told that I sucked and it hurt. So right now, I hurt. Because part of me thinks it's true. Trust me - I had a mirror in my exercise today and I didn't necessarily like the dancing the girl looking back at me was doing.
And I thought about the holidays a lot today because they're coming up but we're not really doing much for them in my family this year (everyone is scaling back), so I really don't have much to do holiday-wise this year which is nice because it's not stressful, but it is kind of sad to not be doing much for the holidays. And I'm sorry and I'm afraid to say anything about the holidays at all because I'm likely to offend someone I didn't intend to offend, so I think I'll just have to say that I'll enjoy them again when I have my own family and am able to create my own traditions. Until then...I need to find my motivation.
I dunno. I'm sorry. I know my exercise couldn't have been that bad, but I'm just really sad right now. Which says I should probably go to sleep. Good night.
20 December 2009
16 December 2009
My Plan
My plan was to come home from class, do some laundry, work out, go to bed and get ready to work tomorrow.
That was my plan.
That's not going to happen.
My brain is not functioning on a plane that will let me really talk about what just happened in class, but just know this - it was good. It was damn good. I ripped up my throat. I have some mystery red mark on the back of my left hand. But most importantly, I affected my partner, I was effected by my partner, and I lived truthfully moment to moment. The teacher commented that I did very well trying all sorts of different tactics to get what I wanted. I kept yelling at myself in my head that I was being conversational instead of repetitive, but I don't think that was really an issue. The teacher stopped us right after there was a weird shift in the scene from hard to soft that neither of us really knew what to do with, and she told me I should have jumped on the soft impulse sooner. I was having problems identifying that it was okay to be soft (if that makes any sense) and then my partner said something first that was not soft and the teacher called her out on going back to tired old places that we'd already been. But in general...I can't even describe it. We were both there. We were both connected. We both wanted something really really really badly. We both observed and were observed. The class was laughing and afraid and excited. That was a fucking good exercise. I feel fucking great about it. And I've learned that I swear like a sailor when I get passionate about something. There was a moment when my partner was right up in my face and I had an impulse to kiss her which would have been totally hysterical and completely out of the blue so I didn't follow it, but it was there. Next time, I should. And like the teacher said, I didn't get soft very quickly (which may be a good thing for guys, but it's not what I'm going for in acting class). It bothers me that this teacher keeps seeing me be hard and mean and strong. I know I've been soft and weak and vulnerable at other times; I just don't know that she has seen it. I almost feel like I need to set up an exercise that will make me be soft, but I'm not sure how to do that. I don't know what the other person would come in with.
My whole body is alive right now. I don't know if you know what that feels like or if it even makes sense, but it is like every nerve is firing all at the same time. I'm over-stimulated and completely exhausted at the same time. My scene partner and I had to hug each other a couple of times after our exercise and I think we could have very easily collapsed into each other and fallen asleep.
And so I came home to my cat. Who is so beautiful it breaks my heart. And he has no idea why I need to hold him for a minute longer than usual. Or why I'm completely scattered as I make a giant bowl of popcorn that I'm eating in fits and spurts. And I love him so much I want to cry right now. That is my truth, right now, in this moment. I want to cry because my cat is so beautiful. Sweet jebus, I'm a crackpot.
The other exercises tonight were interesting. More engaging than some previous ones have been. They made me realize how much time we spend not saying the things we want to say or need to say. Both of the teachers in this class have encouraged us to just say it or just go there or to allow yourself to be ugly or vulnerable or scared or whatever. One of them told us to run towards the confrontations. He was also quick to tell us that this is perhaps not the best advice to follow in real life. But a couple of weeks ago, when I went to see the Swell Season, Glen Hansard told a beautiful, heartbreaking story about a woman who lost her son in the Twin Towers and he dedicated "Say It To Me Now" to her and I sobbed while he played. He played with no amplification, standing on the front edge of the stage as if his life depended on it. And he said it. He encouraged us all to say it. Just say it. And in a strange way, it makes me sad that my classmates can't make themselves just say it in the completely safe, completely imaginary world created in our classroom. If you're not going to say it there, where will you ever say it?
So here are some of my "just say its" in no particular order:
I'm annoyed with you.
I'm flattered that you would ask, but I'm really not interested.
I still have a crush on you (though it's not as strong as it was) and probably will until you get married. Which, for a second, I almost thought you were going to and I think my heart stopped.
If I could ask just one thing of you, it would be for you to be nice to me for one full day. And be nice in my general direction for one full day. No negative commentary, no snide comments, just be nice to me. Because I am a person and I do deserve that.
You know how to make me feel dumb and I don't like that, so I'm removing myself from the situation. Which hurts because you also know how to make me radiant.
I appreciate the effort, but that's not really what I'm talking about.
I love you and don't know what I would do without you. You hurt my feelings a couple weeks ago.
I really just want to be near you.
I miss you.
That's not my problem.
There are things that can be done to change it.
I wonder if my tendency to lean on the hard feelings in class has anything to do with all of the crap going on in my regular life. And if even just one of the annoying things shifted to be less annoying, if I would start to lean more towards soft feelings. I wonder.
That was my plan.
That's not going to happen.
My brain is not functioning on a plane that will let me really talk about what just happened in class, but just know this - it was good. It was damn good. I ripped up my throat. I have some mystery red mark on the back of my left hand. But most importantly, I affected my partner, I was effected by my partner, and I lived truthfully moment to moment. The teacher commented that I did very well trying all sorts of different tactics to get what I wanted. I kept yelling at myself in my head that I was being conversational instead of repetitive, but I don't think that was really an issue. The teacher stopped us right after there was a weird shift in the scene from hard to soft that neither of us really knew what to do with, and she told me I should have jumped on the soft impulse sooner. I was having problems identifying that it was okay to be soft (if that makes any sense) and then my partner said something first that was not soft and the teacher called her out on going back to tired old places that we'd already been. But in general...I can't even describe it. We were both there. We were both connected. We both wanted something really really really badly. We both observed and were observed. The class was laughing and afraid and excited. That was a fucking good exercise. I feel fucking great about it. And I've learned that I swear like a sailor when I get passionate about something. There was a moment when my partner was right up in my face and I had an impulse to kiss her which would have been totally hysterical and completely out of the blue so I didn't follow it, but it was there. Next time, I should. And like the teacher said, I didn't get soft very quickly (which may be a good thing for guys, but it's not what I'm going for in acting class). It bothers me that this teacher keeps seeing me be hard and mean and strong. I know I've been soft and weak and vulnerable at other times; I just don't know that she has seen it. I almost feel like I need to set up an exercise that will make me be soft, but I'm not sure how to do that. I don't know what the other person would come in with.
My whole body is alive right now. I don't know if you know what that feels like or if it even makes sense, but it is like every nerve is firing all at the same time. I'm over-stimulated and completely exhausted at the same time. My scene partner and I had to hug each other a couple of times after our exercise and I think we could have very easily collapsed into each other and fallen asleep.
And so I came home to my cat. Who is so beautiful it breaks my heart. And he has no idea why I need to hold him for a minute longer than usual. Or why I'm completely scattered as I make a giant bowl of popcorn that I'm eating in fits and spurts. And I love him so much I want to cry right now. That is my truth, right now, in this moment. I want to cry because my cat is so beautiful. Sweet jebus, I'm a crackpot.
The other exercises tonight were interesting. More engaging than some previous ones have been. They made me realize how much time we spend not saying the things we want to say or need to say. Both of the teachers in this class have encouraged us to just say it or just go there or to allow yourself to be ugly or vulnerable or scared or whatever. One of them told us to run towards the confrontations. He was also quick to tell us that this is perhaps not the best advice to follow in real life. But a couple of weeks ago, when I went to see the Swell Season, Glen Hansard told a beautiful, heartbreaking story about a woman who lost her son in the Twin Towers and he dedicated "Say It To Me Now" to her and I sobbed while he played. He played with no amplification, standing on the front edge of the stage as if his life depended on it. And he said it. He encouraged us all to say it. Just say it. And in a strange way, it makes me sad that my classmates can't make themselves just say it in the completely safe, completely imaginary world created in our classroom. If you're not going to say it there, where will you ever say it?
So here are some of my "just say its" in no particular order:
I'm annoyed with you.
I'm flattered that you would ask, but I'm really not interested.
I still have a crush on you (though it's not as strong as it was) and probably will until you get married. Which, for a second, I almost thought you were going to and I think my heart stopped.
If I could ask just one thing of you, it would be for you to be nice to me for one full day. And be nice in my general direction for one full day. No negative commentary, no snide comments, just be nice to me. Because I am a person and I do deserve that.
You know how to make me feel dumb and I don't like that, so I'm removing myself from the situation. Which hurts because you also know how to make me radiant.
I appreciate the effort, but that's not really what I'm talking about.
I love you and don't know what I would do without you. You hurt my feelings a couple weeks ago.
I really just want to be near you.
I miss you.
That's not my problem.
There are things that can be done to change it.
I wonder if my tendency to lean on the hard feelings in class has anything to do with all of the crap going on in my regular life. And if even just one of the annoying things shifted to be less annoying, if I would start to lean more towards soft feelings. I wonder.
15 December 2009
One Step Ahead
I didn't work in class on Saturday - the cards just didn't fall that way. Which was fine because I was wearing really uncomfortable shoes so I don't know how well I would have done anyway. But one thing did occur to me about my classmates: we all sit there and watch everyone else's exercises. We know what kinds of questions the teacher is going to ask in regard to our preparation. Why don't we ask ourselves those same questions when putting our activities together before class so that we are prepared?
I try to. I know the teacher is going to set me up to want something from my partner, so as I think about each exercise and what I'll be doing, I try to think of what I could possibly want from another person. That might change when I find out which of my classmates I'll be working with, but it's good to have an option, or to have at least considered it. A couple of my classmates have created situations full of despair, but when asked why they are so desperate, they can't come up with specifics. Why not? Pull something out of your ass if you have to. You want to kill yourself because your husband just died and you can't bear to be without him. Which means you could also want love and affection and attention from someone else (i.e. your scene partner), and the thought of that could make you feel really guilty and if you get it...see? That's a scene. As opposed to, "I want to die because I'm messed up and I don't really want anything." That's boring to watch. It's boring to hear about. And it's really funny to me that some of my classmates are having so much trouble with this because the one instructor has told us probably five times now to take risks, to use our imaginations, and to just friggin' try things. I don't think this is the kind of setting wherein either teacher is going to tell us it's too far out there to think that if my sister makes it over before the place is clean, she's going to smack the shit out of me, and then drag me to the airport kicking and screaming, burning down my apartment on the way out. That would light a fire under your ass to clean the place up, wouldn't it? Nice, high stakes. Nice, imaginary situation. But what it will produce is nice, real reactions and emotions. And if you look at the really good movies or plays you've seen, there is almost always some element of the fantastic or extraordinary involved. If this wasn't an atypical day, nobody would have written a play about it. Even "Seinfeld," the show about nothing, managed to elevate the urgency of nothing to epic proportions - Jerry stealing the last loaf of marble rye from a little old lady on the street, the fight with the Soup Nazi, Kramer in general. All of these situations start out normal - he needs bread to take to a party, they're trying to buy lunch - but they get pushed into the ridiculous because for some reason, it is WAY more important that this happen today than any other day and if it doesn't happen today, somebody is going to die. That level of urgency, that level of desperation is what makes something engaging to watch. That level of urgency is what is going to push you as an actor to your emotional extremes. So why not, when you're preparing for an exercise in class, build in that element of urgency and push it past the boundaries of normalcy to the level of lunacy that somebody would actually want to watch? What's stopping you? Especially in class where it is safe to experiment and play and be ridiculous.
For example, in my first exercise, if I didn't fix those pants, we were going to lose our house and my sister was going to disown me. In my second exercise, if I didn't finish my taxes, my boyfriend was going to dump me and kick me out of our apartment, leaving me penniless, jobless, and homeless. In real life, it is entirely possible that either of those outcomes would not happen. I could probably plead with my boyfriend for another week or so in the apartment until I could find my own place and get on my feet. But in the exercise, I think it is important to believe that it won't go that way. If, for no other reason, because I become more engaging and interesting to watch when I have that kind of pressure on me.
I remember when I took Meisner in college, the teacher boiled it all down to six actions that you could play (though you could combine them as necessary, i.e. celebrate someone in order to seduce them), and what your character wants. Everybody wants something. As actors, we have to figure out what it is our character wants, and then make that the absolute most important thing in the world. In my next exercise, I want to go on tour, and if I don't, I'll curl up in a ditch and die. Should be fun, I think.
I try to. I know the teacher is going to set me up to want something from my partner, so as I think about each exercise and what I'll be doing, I try to think of what I could possibly want from another person. That might change when I find out which of my classmates I'll be working with, but it's good to have an option, or to have at least considered it. A couple of my classmates have created situations full of despair, but when asked why they are so desperate, they can't come up with specifics. Why not? Pull something out of your ass if you have to. You want to kill yourself because your husband just died and you can't bear to be without him. Which means you could also want love and affection and attention from someone else (i.e. your scene partner), and the thought of that could make you feel really guilty and if you get it...see? That's a scene. As opposed to, "I want to die because I'm messed up and I don't really want anything." That's boring to watch. It's boring to hear about. And it's really funny to me that some of my classmates are having so much trouble with this because the one instructor has told us probably five times now to take risks, to use our imaginations, and to just friggin' try things. I don't think this is the kind of setting wherein either teacher is going to tell us it's too far out there to think that if my sister makes it over before the place is clean, she's going to smack the shit out of me, and then drag me to the airport kicking and screaming, burning down my apartment on the way out. That would light a fire under your ass to clean the place up, wouldn't it? Nice, high stakes. Nice, imaginary situation. But what it will produce is nice, real reactions and emotions. And if you look at the really good movies or plays you've seen, there is almost always some element of the fantastic or extraordinary involved. If this wasn't an atypical day, nobody would have written a play about it. Even "Seinfeld," the show about nothing, managed to elevate the urgency of nothing to epic proportions - Jerry stealing the last loaf of marble rye from a little old lady on the street, the fight with the Soup Nazi, Kramer in general. All of these situations start out normal - he needs bread to take to a party, they're trying to buy lunch - but they get pushed into the ridiculous because for some reason, it is WAY more important that this happen today than any other day and if it doesn't happen today, somebody is going to die. That level of urgency, that level of desperation is what makes something engaging to watch. That level of urgency is what is going to push you as an actor to your emotional extremes. So why not, when you're preparing for an exercise in class, build in that element of urgency and push it past the boundaries of normalcy to the level of lunacy that somebody would actually want to watch? What's stopping you? Especially in class where it is safe to experiment and play and be ridiculous.
For example, in my first exercise, if I didn't fix those pants, we were going to lose our house and my sister was going to disown me. In my second exercise, if I didn't finish my taxes, my boyfriend was going to dump me and kick me out of our apartment, leaving me penniless, jobless, and homeless. In real life, it is entirely possible that either of those outcomes would not happen. I could probably plead with my boyfriend for another week or so in the apartment until I could find my own place and get on my feet. But in the exercise, I think it is important to believe that it won't go that way. If, for no other reason, because I become more engaging and interesting to watch when I have that kind of pressure on me.
I remember when I took Meisner in college, the teacher boiled it all down to six actions that you could play (though you could combine them as necessary, i.e. celebrate someone in order to seduce them), and what your character wants. Everybody wants something. As actors, we have to figure out what it is our character wants, and then make that the absolute most important thing in the world. In my next exercise, I want to go on tour, and if I don't, I'll curl up in a ditch and die. Should be fun, I think.
10 December 2009
Please, Sir, May I Have Some More?
I had another good exercise in class last night. I think I got a good balance of paying attention to my activity and my partner at the same time. I got really angry and I got really despondent. The teacher didn't have much for me in the way of comments, though. She didn't like the environment I created, but other than that, she said it was "pretty decent." I'm not sure what to do with that. Other than make sure the next environment I create is a little more indicative of where my set-up puts me.
A lot of my classmates seem to be having problems with the introduction of imaginary circumstances into things. My thought is to just make something up. If you don't know why you would do something, make something up. Which may or may not be the right approach. For example, one of my classmates didn't really have any feelings one way or the other about the woman whose "apartment" he supposedly just visited and then was going back to, and he therefore had problems figuring out why he would say to her, "I'll be back in five minutes" and why would he come back in five minutes. From my point of view, the thing is this: he returned to the apartment in five minutes. That is a given. It is up to him as an actor to figure out why, whatever that reason is. Maybe he just set a fire in the apartment down the hall and is coming to get her out. Maybe he wants to help with her activity and needed to go find supplies. Maybe the heat is out in his place and he wants to be somewhere warm. Whatever. The truth of the situation is that he went back to her apartment. As actors, we are given those truths all of the time - they are called "scripts." We have to figure out what will motivate us as people to actually do those things. It can be directly related to the other person on stage or it can not be, as long as it gets you there. Because once you are there, who knows what is going to happen? Maybe you show up wanting to evacuate, but end up falling in love and you both burn together in a beautiful Romeo and Juliet type tableaux. You just need to make up a reason to be there. The rest of it will happen how it happens.
Or I could be totally wrong. I have been pulling stuff out of my butt to fill in the spaces in my activities - I've given myself imaginary children and diseases and boyfriends and jobs and all kinds of things - in an attempt to up the stakes in my exercises and I am apparently just doing "pretty decent" work. I don't know what that means. I don't know if that is good or bad. I don't know how to improve on "pretty decent," unless you tell me why those specific words were chosen to describe my work as opposed to, say, "great" or "stinky."
I like that I can leave this class feeling good about myself. I wish I could help my classmates who seem to be struggling so much with it. And I think I need to find a mirror for my next activity, for which I am totally going to trick out the space.
A lot of my classmates seem to be having problems with the introduction of imaginary circumstances into things. My thought is to just make something up. If you don't know why you would do something, make something up. Which may or may not be the right approach. For example, one of my classmates didn't really have any feelings one way or the other about the woman whose "apartment" he supposedly just visited and then was going back to, and he therefore had problems figuring out why he would say to her, "I'll be back in five minutes" and why would he come back in five minutes. From my point of view, the thing is this: he returned to the apartment in five minutes. That is a given. It is up to him as an actor to figure out why, whatever that reason is. Maybe he just set a fire in the apartment down the hall and is coming to get her out. Maybe he wants to help with her activity and needed to go find supplies. Maybe the heat is out in his place and he wants to be somewhere warm. Whatever. The truth of the situation is that he went back to her apartment. As actors, we are given those truths all of the time - they are called "scripts." We have to figure out what will motivate us as people to actually do those things. It can be directly related to the other person on stage or it can not be, as long as it gets you there. Because once you are there, who knows what is going to happen? Maybe you show up wanting to evacuate, but end up falling in love and you both burn together in a beautiful Romeo and Juliet type tableaux. You just need to make up a reason to be there. The rest of it will happen how it happens.
Or I could be totally wrong. I have been pulling stuff out of my butt to fill in the spaces in my activities - I've given myself imaginary children and diseases and boyfriends and jobs and all kinds of things - in an attempt to up the stakes in my exercises and I am apparently just doing "pretty decent" work. I don't know what that means. I don't know if that is good or bad. I don't know how to improve on "pretty decent," unless you tell me why those specific words were chosen to describe my work as opposed to, say, "great" or "stinky."
I like that I can leave this class feeling good about myself. I wish I could help my classmates who seem to be struggling so much with it. And I think I need to find a mirror for my next activity, for which I am totally going to trick out the space.
02 December 2009
...and Then Some
I had a good exercise tonight. I felt kind of unprepared and I guess in a way it showed, but in another way, I had a good exercise. There was one specific detail in my back story that I hadn't quite figured out and I think that is what ended up doing me in. But I wasn't really done in. The preparation work I did was good. I just could have done more. And I could have let more of it show. I think I sort of skimmed over the "how does it make you feel" question and focused a lot on the urgency of the situation. But I think I had a good balance of getting my activity done and staying engaged with my partner. I was identifying things in her, I think perhaps even more than she was identifying things in me. I probably could have tried harder to get her to leave me alone so I could finish, but that didn't feel right. And like the teacher said, I needed to let more of my back story show. In my story, I royally fucked up. Big time. But the class didn't see that because I didn't show that. Or I didn't show it enough. I didn't feel enough shame. I was confounded and confused and disappointed in myself, but I wasn't completely, utterly ashamed of what I had done. And I needed to get there before the exercise started. I also could have prepped my props better, and myself. Which I'll know for next time. I'm already building the story for my next one and I think it is also going to be good.
The exercises that happened before mine were interesting. A lot of my classmates are confused by these new exercises. I almost feel weird saying I'm not. I think I get it now that the first class was about getting us in tune with ourselves so we know what our impulses are and we get comfortable exploring the uncomfortable places in a public(ish) setting. Now we are adding in more and more elements of the Theatre with a Capital T, but still trying to hold onto the following impulses bit. As in, my impulse as Kitty, with all of Kitty's life experiences, might be to laugh when someone calls me beautiful. Whereas if I put in the imaginary circumstances that I am not me and I just tried to sleep with my sister's potential boss so that he would give her the job, I might get angry and hurt and start crying if someone calls me beautiful because I'm feeling dirty and shameful and want to hide from the world. It is still a truthful impulse, just fueled by different circumstances. These exercises are designed to give us different fuel because as actors, we will never be ourselves on stage. I had an improv teacher tell me once that given the choice, always play a character in improv exercises because they are much more interesting than you are. The combination of these two classes is helping us get to a place where we can infuse as much emotional life and truth into a character that is the absolute opposite of ourselves as we have as regular everyday people.
I got a lot of positive commentary from the teacher today. And the criticisms were constructive ones and I think she enjoyed giving them. There is a part of me that thinks she chose me to work tonight because she likes to see me work and/or thinks I have potential. There were a couple of rough exercises and when she asked if I was prepared to work tonight, I think she did so thinking that mine could be a good, energizing exercise. Like after you have a mediocre dance with someone, you seek out one of your favorite partners to have a really good dance. There was part of me that felt like I was the really good dance tonight and that felt amazing. By no means did I nail it. But I did good work and got good comments that I can use to make my next exercise even stronger.
The exercises that happened before mine were interesting. A lot of my classmates are confused by these new exercises. I almost feel weird saying I'm not. I think I get it now that the first class was about getting us in tune with ourselves so we know what our impulses are and we get comfortable exploring the uncomfortable places in a public(ish) setting. Now we are adding in more and more elements of the Theatre with a Capital T, but still trying to hold onto the following impulses bit. As in, my impulse as Kitty, with all of Kitty's life experiences, might be to laugh when someone calls me beautiful. Whereas if I put in the imaginary circumstances that I am not me and I just tried to sleep with my sister's potential boss so that he would give her the job, I might get angry and hurt and start crying if someone calls me beautiful because I'm feeling dirty and shameful and want to hide from the world. It is still a truthful impulse, just fueled by different circumstances. These exercises are designed to give us different fuel because as actors, we will never be ourselves on stage. I had an improv teacher tell me once that given the choice, always play a character in improv exercises because they are much more interesting than you are. The combination of these two classes is helping us get to a place where we can infuse as much emotional life and truth into a character that is the absolute opposite of ourselves as we have as regular everyday people.
I got a lot of positive commentary from the teacher today. And the criticisms were constructive ones and I think she enjoyed giving them. There is a part of me that thinks she chose me to work tonight because she likes to see me work and/or thinks I have potential. There were a couple of rough exercises and when she asked if I was prepared to work tonight, I think she did so thinking that mine could be a good, energizing exercise. Like after you have a mediocre dance with someone, you seek out one of your favorite partners to have a really good dance. There was part of me that felt like I was the really good dance tonight and that felt amazing. By no means did I nail it. But I did good work and got good comments that I can use to make my next exercise even stronger.
21 November 2009
Well Done
I had two good exercises today.
We were supposed to bring in an object from home and build completely imaginary circumstances around it - what it is, where we got it, why we keep it, etc. And one by one, we went up with our object, said a little bit about it, and then someone came in to fall into the repetition exercise from the first class, but using the fuel of this object through the scene. My first exercise was with one guy who I really enjoy working with and it made me really happy that as soon as our bit of stock dialogue was over, we both just kind of looked at each other and fell into a hug from across the room. I don't know if that killed his object preparation or what, but he was happy that I was there and I was happy to be there. It got a little frustrating because he was still trying to be about the object and I wanted to be able to ask him what was wrong instead of saying, "You're hurt," but that would lead into script and dialogue and character and we're not there yet. But it felt like a pretty good exercise. If nothing else, I was soft when I needed to be soft and when he needed me to be soft and that's a good thing. I don't think the teacher said anything to me after that exercise.
My second exercise was about me and my object. It started out like this:
Teacher: What is is?
Me: Rocky Raccoon.
Teacher: Where did you get it?
Me: They gave it to me at the hospital when my daughter was born.
Teacher: How long have you had it?
Me: 1034 days.
Teacher: Why do you keep it?
Me: Because when I get her back, it's how she'll know I'm her mom.
Teacher: How does it make you feel?
Me: (crying already) Really sad and guilty.
And then the scene started. Now, with only that to go on, the woman who came in did what any human being with a heart would do - she tried to comfort me. We went through crying and screaming and laughing and love and release and in general, I think it was a good exercise. At the end of it, the teacher told her she should have tried to yank the raccoon out of my hands - I wouldn't let go of it - because we don't need to be nice to each other on stage. She had tried gently to take it from me. I wonder if she knew my whole back story if she would have ripped it out of my hands. I wonder if she knew my whole back story if she would have tried to comfort me. See, in my story, after I gave birth to my daughter, I suffered from pretty severe postpartum depression. A "friend" of mine introduced narcotics into my world to try to make me feel better which, of course, they didn't. And one night in January (January 23, 2007) when my daughter was about 9 weeks old, it was really cold in my place (because I hadn't paid the gas bill since before she was born) and she wouldn't stop crying because she was really cold and I just wanted her to stop crying so I set fire to her crib to try to keep her warm. Our neighbors called the fire department - I was treated for smoke inhalation and they determined from my psyche evaluation that I should be institutionalized until I was no longer a danger to myself or my child. I didn't get to see her in the hospital. I honestly don't know if she survived - the doctors won't tell me where she is. So I keep this raccoon that they gave me at the hospital when she was born so I can give it to her when I am well again and allowed to see her. Because all I want in the world is to know that she is okay.
Pretty good imaginary circumstances, huh? Nice and specific, but VERY far removed from my reality. But it made it really hard to accept it when my scene partner was comforting me because I wasn't sure I deserved to be treated nicely. Which may be why I held onto my circumstances (and the raccoon) as long as I did. I did eventually put it down and took her hand instead. I did find myself reminding myself to pay attention to her reactions to my reactions, too, and there were a couple of times when I think I did that really well. I found myself shying away from saying very complimentary things to her like, "You are an angel" or "You are beautiful" because after watching her in class for nine weeks now, I know she tends to shut down when you say nice things to her and I didn't want her to shut down. I wanted both of us to stay involved so instead I said, "I love you." Because I did. She was wonderful to me and by the end of our exercise, I was letting her be. So that felt great. When the teacher asked me how I felt about it, though, it took a minute to put it into words. I didn't want to say, "That was amazing!" because that would be boastful and I didn't want to be boastful - I wanted to encourage commentary so I can learn. I said I wasn't sure if I focused on my circumstances too much or if I should have focused on my partner more or if I struck a balance between the two. He said he thought I hit a decent balance, but that in general, between and object and a person, you're always going to get more out it if you focus on the person. That makes sense.
What was also really nice was that as soon as the exercise was over, all of those feelings were gone. The guilt over setting my imaginary daughter on fire. The pain of having my child taken away from me. The feeling of failure in knowing that I was following in the imaginary footsteps of my imaginary mother who wasn't there for me either. All of it. Poof! Gone. I was back to regular old Kitty, childless, fire-less, and with a wonderful loving mother, able to look at the exercise from an outside perspective with a semi-critical eye. I didn't get bogged down in thinking I'm a horrible person for being able to imagine doing those things. It was an exercise for a class. Nobody was harmed in the process. If anything, we gained valuable experience as actors for it. Which brings me back to the previous classes and how they made me feel like shit. In those classes, I was following my impulses as me. In this exercise, I was following my impulses as this character I created. And then I was able to turn her off and get rid of her. That is a really really really really really really good and valuable thing, too.
No class next week for the holidays. I'm glad to have gone out on a positive, you know? If I had to stew for two weeks about a bad exercise...ouch. Instead, I get to feel that little glimmer of confidence in my abilities as a performer. I dig that.
We were supposed to bring in an object from home and build completely imaginary circumstances around it - what it is, where we got it, why we keep it, etc. And one by one, we went up with our object, said a little bit about it, and then someone came in to fall into the repetition exercise from the first class, but using the fuel of this object through the scene. My first exercise was with one guy who I really enjoy working with and it made me really happy that as soon as our bit of stock dialogue was over, we both just kind of looked at each other and fell into a hug from across the room. I don't know if that killed his object preparation or what, but he was happy that I was there and I was happy to be there. It got a little frustrating because he was still trying to be about the object and I wanted to be able to ask him what was wrong instead of saying, "You're hurt," but that would lead into script and dialogue and character and we're not there yet. But it felt like a pretty good exercise. If nothing else, I was soft when I needed to be soft and when he needed me to be soft and that's a good thing. I don't think the teacher said anything to me after that exercise.
My second exercise was about me and my object. It started out like this:
Teacher: What is is?
Me: Rocky Raccoon.
Teacher: Where did you get it?
Me: They gave it to me at the hospital when my daughter was born.
Teacher: How long have you had it?
Me: 1034 days.
Teacher: Why do you keep it?
Me: Because when I get her back, it's how she'll know I'm her mom.
Teacher: How does it make you feel?
Me: (crying already) Really sad and guilty.
And then the scene started. Now, with only that to go on, the woman who came in did what any human being with a heart would do - she tried to comfort me. We went through crying and screaming and laughing and love and release and in general, I think it was a good exercise. At the end of it, the teacher told her she should have tried to yank the raccoon out of my hands - I wouldn't let go of it - because we don't need to be nice to each other on stage. She had tried gently to take it from me. I wonder if she knew my whole back story if she would have ripped it out of my hands. I wonder if she knew my whole back story if she would have tried to comfort me. See, in my story, after I gave birth to my daughter, I suffered from pretty severe postpartum depression. A "friend" of mine introduced narcotics into my world to try to make me feel better which, of course, they didn't. And one night in January (January 23, 2007) when my daughter was about 9 weeks old, it was really cold in my place (because I hadn't paid the gas bill since before she was born) and she wouldn't stop crying because she was really cold and I just wanted her to stop crying so I set fire to her crib to try to keep her warm. Our neighbors called the fire department - I was treated for smoke inhalation and they determined from my psyche evaluation that I should be institutionalized until I was no longer a danger to myself or my child. I didn't get to see her in the hospital. I honestly don't know if she survived - the doctors won't tell me where she is. So I keep this raccoon that they gave me at the hospital when she was born so I can give it to her when I am well again and allowed to see her. Because all I want in the world is to know that she is okay.
Pretty good imaginary circumstances, huh? Nice and specific, but VERY far removed from my reality. But it made it really hard to accept it when my scene partner was comforting me because I wasn't sure I deserved to be treated nicely. Which may be why I held onto my circumstances (and the raccoon) as long as I did. I did eventually put it down and took her hand instead. I did find myself reminding myself to pay attention to her reactions to my reactions, too, and there were a couple of times when I think I did that really well. I found myself shying away from saying very complimentary things to her like, "You are an angel" or "You are beautiful" because after watching her in class for nine weeks now, I know she tends to shut down when you say nice things to her and I didn't want her to shut down. I wanted both of us to stay involved so instead I said, "I love you." Because I did. She was wonderful to me and by the end of our exercise, I was letting her be. So that felt great. When the teacher asked me how I felt about it, though, it took a minute to put it into words. I didn't want to say, "That was amazing!" because that would be boastful and I didn't want to be boastful - I wanted to encourage commentary so I can learn. I said I wasn't sure if I focused on my circumstances too much or if I should have focused on my partner more or if I struck a balance between the two. He said he thought I hit a decent balance, but that in general, between and object and a person, you're always going to get more out it if you focus on the person. That makes sense.
What was also really nice was that as soon as the exercise was over, all of those feelings were gone. The guilt over setting my imaginary daughter on fire. The pain of having my child taken away from me. The feeling of failure in knowing that I was following in the imaginary footsteps of my imaginary mother who wasn't there for me either. All of it. Poof! Gone. I was back to regular old Kitty, childless, fire-less, and with a wonderful loving mother, able to look at the exercise from an outside perspective with a semi-critical eye. I didn't get bogged down in thinking I'm a horrible person for being able to imagine doing those things. It was an exercise for a class. Nobody was harmed in the process. If anything, we gained valuable experience as actors for it. Which brings me back to the previous classes and how they made me feel like shit. In those classes, I was following my impulses as me. In this exercise, I was following my impulses as this character I created. And then I was able to turn her off and get rid of her. That is a really really really really really really good and valuable thing, too.
No class next week for the holidays. I'm glad to have gone out on a positive, you know? If I had to stew for two weeks about a bad exercise...ouch. Instead, I get to feel that little glimmer of confidence in my abilities as a performer. I dig that.
19 November 2009
A Bit More
I want to write a bit more about my exercise from last night because I'm in that sort of a mood and it's what I do. I think about things too much.
We were supposed to choose and object on the stage and create completely imaginary circumstances surrounding it - what is this object, where did we get it, how long have we had it, why do we keep it, that sort of thing. I chose a mug. It was the first thing I bought for myself when I moved into my first apartment. I bought it because I didn't have a lot of money, but I wanted to feel grown up and independent and I thought if I had grown up mugs, it would validate me.
In the course of my exercise, the teacher asked a lot of questions about this mug and about how I was feeling. I felt silly and embarrassed because it was a mug that validated by worth as a human being, but I didn't say that bit. I said I felt silly and nervous because of my connection to the mug and my vulnerability surrounding it. But I didn't push it that extra step to actually show my classmates what that mug meant to me. And in that moment, the mug was the only thing keeping me standing. I almost cried several times, but I didn't let myself. Afterward, the teacher pointed out a couple of places where I could have made more vulnerable choices and I took that as my "what I need to learn for next time" thing.
What struck me after class (or during, while other people were doing their exercises) was that I chose an item that isolated me and reminded me of my isolation, which is something that I'm dealing with in my current life. This wasn't my friend's mug or my mom's mug or an heirloom mug passed down to me by my great grandmother, this was my mug that I bought for myself for my first apartment where I lived by myself. Nobody ever used the other mugs in the set because nobody ever came over. Those, for me, are very real circumstances. And it bothers me that my first impulse didn't include another human being, real or imaginary. It was a solitary impulse. Because I'm feeling solitary. But even in that feeling solitary, I didn't let my classmates know that it bothers me. I didn't trust them enough in class to break down and show the weight of my solitude. I still had to be strong, which is why I felt silly.
So what I think I need to work on, in class specifically (but maybe in life, too) is connecting with other people, not just with objects. If this object belonged to someone else, then I have that person's feelings to take into account, too. If this object means something to them and I broke it...imagine what sort of doors that would open up. And I need to work on not always being strong and keeping it together. I need to let everything fall apart, even for a moment, even just on stage.
I can do it. I know I can. Gotta bring my A-game and just let it happen. For the sake of my worth as an actor, I have to let myself be a total mess for just one moment.
That's kind of exciting.
We were supposed to choose and object on the stage and create completely imaginary circumstances surrounding it - what is this object, where did we get it, how long have we had it, why do we keep it, that sort of thing. I chose a mug. It was the first thing I bought for myself when I moved into my first apartment. I bought it because I didn't have a lot of money, but I wanted to feel grown up and independent and I thought if I had grown up mugs, it would validate me.
In the course of my exercise, the teacher asked a lot of questions about this mug and about how I was feeling. I felt silly and embarrassed because it was a mug that validated by worth as a human being, but I didn't say that bit. I said I felt silly and nervous because of my connection to the mug and my vulnerability surrounding it. But I didn't push it that extra step to actually show my classmates what that mug meant to me. And in that moment, the mug was the only thing keeping me standing. I almost cried several times, but I didn't let myself. Afterward, the teacher pointed out a couple of places where I could have made more vulnerable choices and I took that as my "what I need to learn for next time" thing.
What struck me after class (or during, while other people were doing their exercises) was that I chose an item that isolated me and reminded me of my isolation, which is something that I'm dealing with in my current life. This wasn't my friend's mug or my mom's mug or an heirloom mug passed down to me by my great grandmother, this was my mug that I bought for myself for my first apartment where I lived by myself. Nobody ever used the other mugs in the set because nobody ever came over. Those, for me, are very real circumstances. And it bothers me that my first impulse didn't include another human being, real or imaginary. It was a solitary impulse. Because I'm feeling solitary. But even in that feeling solitary, I didn't let my classmates know that it bothers me. I didn't trust them enough in class to break down and show the weight of my solitude. I still had to be strong, which is why I felt silly.
So what I think I need to work on, in class specifically (but maybe in life, too) is connecting with other people, not just with objects. If this object belonged to someone else, then I have that person's feelings to take into account, too. If this object means something to them and I broke it...imagine what sort of doors that would open up. And I need to work on not always being strong and keeping it together. I need to let everything fall apart, even for a moment, even just on stage.
I can do it. I know I can. Gotta bring my A-game and just let it happen. For the sake of my worth as an actor, I have to let myself be a total mess for just one moment.
That's kind of exciting.
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