Scraped and Sore

Wow. Last night was an intense physical and emotional workout.

We started out by giving the teacher some feedback on the class so far. Nobody wanted to say anything, so I started out by saying I'd rather not do the class barefoot, partially because I'm not big on being barefoot most of the time, but mostly because the floor that we're working on has god knows what all over it - dust, dirt, nails, paint chips. It has already cut my foot once, someone else's foot once, and I think something snagged a hole in my shirt when we were doing floor exercises last week (either that, or the shirt had a hole in it when I bought it which would make me very sad). I understand that we either need to all be barefoot or nobody can be, but I'd rather not be. Which then got the ball rolling - people asking questions, making comments. I never thought of myself as an instigator or a leader, but I guess sometimes, when I have to be, I can be. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

The rest of the class was incredible. We started to make progress - taking the things we had done in previous classes, and applying them to story and character and dialogue and improvisation. There was still lots of running and jumping and playing, but there was also fighting and fury and fear. The good kind of fear. I don't think anyone was ever concerned about their own safety. I did, however, manage to scrape my arm on the wall, and I did something in a fit of rage that left my right thumb feeling, well, not right. But it was great. I loved being able to tap into all of those emotions.

We also had an opportunity to watch our classmates work (we were split in groups, so we watched the other group) which allowed us to provide and receive feedback on what we were doing. I found this extremely helpful. One of my issues with the first repetition class was I wasn't sure if what I was doing read to the audience. Last night, I got feedback that some of the things I was doing were reading, and were reading really well. So that is encouraging.

It was also interesting to see the different personalities of my classmates in a very real setting and very real situations. Up to this point, we have interacted with one another on a very physical level, but with almost no verbal interaction. Last night, we had to discuss our ideas and plan out our scenes. It was interesting to see what ideas people come up with, who is more dominant, who is a leader, and who is a follower. I left kind of wondering what my other classmates thought of me.

I like this class. We have next week off, but then one (possibly two) more. That should give the scrape time to heal, and should perhaps give me time to build up a thick enough skin that I don't even notice next time I cut my foot.

My Vulnerability

Last night was weird. I had a lot to say about it when I got home, but somehow, I just couldn't put it into words which is why I'm writing today instead of last night.

I don't know if it was carry-over from the night before, but I felt strange and out of place last night. Out of my league. Unwelcome and uncomfortable. But I made myself get up and work anyway after a little while and I didn't last up there very long before someone jumped in and took my place. To be honest, it was a relief - I was having a hard time reading my partner. There was some interesting stuff that happened in the exercises last night. For a while, I thought that every exercise was going to turn into people making out. Fortunately, that didn't happen.

After the break, the teacher had me go up and paired me with a man - the first time I have worked with a guy in class. I don't know if that has been intentional on my part or not. When I go up to start an exercise, it is usually a woman who jumps in and when a man goes up to start one, someone else gets in there before I do. But the teacher had me work with a man. I think she wanted to test my vulnerability and my willingness or unwillingness to explore that. And within a minute of being up there, he told me that I was sexy and beautiful, and he could see that I don't like hearing that and he felt bad for me. And it's true - I don't like hearing that. I really don't like hearing that from total strangers. This is one of my issues based on the fact that my physical appearance is not the best of what I have to offer. It's not. No, I'm not hideous to look at, but when you put my physical appearance on one side of the scale, versus my wit and charm and intelligence and caring and generosity and kindness and yadda yadda yadda on the other side, the yadda yadda yadda side wins. There is a LOT more over there that outweighs my physical appearance. And I have always felt that my yadda yadda yadda side is what wins people over and attracts them to me. Granted, when people first meet me, all they have to go on is my appearance and it is kind of nice that it doesn't make them want to vomit. But here is a man looking at me very intensely, reading my everything, and the best he can come up with is that I'm sexy? That makes me uncomfortable. I'm sorry, but it does. I don't connect to that. I don't feel that. And to have it pointed out suddenly makes me acutely aware of...everything about my physical being and I as much as I like to think I am aware of my physical being and it's position in space and in relation to other people, I'm really not used to other people wanting to interact with my physical being in that sort of a way. Let's face it - I've had some bad experiences with men and intimacy. Okay, I have baggage. But why do I have to be reduced to my physical appearance? He started out so well, calling me out on my trepidation and such, but then BAM! Right for the one thing that is going to make me uncomfortable. I guess kudos to him for being able to read me so well and find my button like that. And kudos to me for, in a very small way, letting him. He hugged me and I let him. It was a very intense, powerful hug and when I started to let it in, I got uncomfortable and pulled away and deflected and the teacher called me out on that. I kind of wished she would have let it go a little longer, but I'm kind of glad it didn't because I got to talk about what was going on, identify what was happening, and then sit down.

So I went out with some of my classmates afterwards, for the sake of being social. If one of my problems is that I'm afraid to let go and let people in on stage because I don't know them and, perhaps more importantly, they don't know me, then I should try to get to know them so we can trust each other on stage. It was fun, but a little odd. I was reminded of how much of an introvert I am. Not in a bad way, but there was lots of conversation going on, very revealing conversation some of the time, and I had a lot to contribute, but I didn't. I was content to sit and listen to most of it, only throwing out the comments or anecdotes that seemed most appropriate. I think one of the men was really trying to connect with me or get me to "come out of my shell," so to speak, but I was trying to show that I'm not really in a shell. I'm just letting other people have the spotlight for a little while. I don't need it most of the time.

It was a good class and a good night, but a strange class and a strange night. I'm really looking forward to starting an 8-week session in the fall so that hopefully, I can get over some of my comfort and trust issues and I can really go balls out in the exercises. And I'm looking forward to getting to know this new group of people. Slowly, of course, and on my terms (at least partially). But I think I could get a lot out of hanging out with these people.

Moving in Circles

Last night was movement class again and I left feeling very unsatisfied. We did a lot of the same things we did last week - walking, running, jumping, stopping, dropping, improvising, making images, using our bodies to build stories - but I just didn't feel as good about the work I did this week as I did last week. I didn't feel like I connected to the other people in the class as well, and I don't feel like they connected to me as well. There were a couple of exceptions to this, like this five minute long mirror/dance moment that happened with this one guy that was pretty intense and really wonderful. But there was also the addition of a new element with which I didn't connect at all, and I think that flavored the rest of my work. I know at times there will be things or people that I have to work with on stage that I don't connect with and I either have to try to force a connection (which feels wrong), or just push through without a connection (which also feels wrong). I'm not sure which is the lesser of two evils.

But I...I dunno. I just didn't feel as good about last night. Maybe I went in with an agenda that was not fulfilled. Maybe I was afraid of getting injured like I did last week and that limited my movement. Maybe it's just because a lot of what we did wasn't new.

We did a few trust exercises, like falling back on someone and playing a version of light as a feather, stiff as a board. That was cool, and very fun. Rather odd sensation, but really fun. And I did get to tap into my own anger a bit - that was good. I have problems dealing with anger sometimes.

I dunno. I guess there will be good classes and there will be not as good classes. This is what is to be expected in any sort of learning process.

Thoughts

Another great class. I find myself not working as much as some of the other students, but I'm getting a lot out of the observation as well. By "much," I mean "frequently." I don't jump in much on other people's exercises, and for some reason, people don't really jump in on mine. I don't know if that is a good thing or not. You're supposed to jump in when you see something that isn't being acknowledged, so if people aren't jumping in on my exercises, maybe that means we're connected and in the moment? I know there were things in my exercises tonight that weren't acknowledged. I halted some of my own impulses. I had a partner who wasn't reading me.

I think a lot of people are still going into this with an agenda. "I am going to have a moment." "She is timid so I'm going to comfort her." And if something happens that is contrary to that agenda, it seems like most people have a safe place to which they retreat. One guy sits down. One woman gets defensive. I don't want to be safe! I want to be safe in that I'd rather not walk out of there with shards of glass in my skull or anything, but I don't want the exercise to feel safe. I want to be scared and challenged and pushed beyond my own boundaries of safety to see what lies on the other side. That's one thing that I have always admired about one of my favorite dancers in Chicago - he dances outside of his own comfort zone. I want to act outside of my own comfort zone. And I think in a way, the class is set up to be kind of strange. A few of the people in there know and have worked with one another before, but a lot of us have not. And this is the kind of work where you really have to trust your partner. The second you decide to censor yourself and not go there, the exercise loses it's momentum and energy, and can become an exercise in frustration for the other person. Honestly, I don't care what these people think of me as a person. My performances in class do not define me as a person. Because I'll admit it - I go in with an agenda, too. I go in with something in mind that I want the other person to read and if they don't get there, I try something else. And if they start going somewhere else, I try to keep up. I would like to think that my goals are about my partner. Driving home, it occurred to me that this exercise is like sex. The first time you do it with someone, it can be strange and awkward as you try to feel the other person out. Neither person is comfortable asking for what they want or what they need, and both are afraid to fully invest themselves and be vulnerable. And sometimes, you get so wrapped up in trying to let your partner have a moment that you forget to participate on your own personal level (or you get so wrapped up in having your own moment that you forget to work with your partner). The more you work with someone, though, the better you get at it. Sometimes. Sometimes, you work with someone so much that the two of you get complacent and comfortable with one another and all of the tension goes out of the room. There are a couple of people in the class who when one of them goes up, you can pretty much bet that the other one will jump up a minute later, and I was kind of glad that the teacher called them out on getting conversational because I really didn't want to watch them flirt and make out again.

And then there was a guy who was too conversational, to the point of almost avoiding the exercise. Which might have been interesting if he was good at thinking on his feet, but he would get flustered and lost in words instead. The whole point of this exercise is that the words don't matter. You don't say one until something makes you say it and then you repeat that word until something makes you say a different one. If you can't think of a new word, it's probably because nothing has inspired you to find a new word and that's fine - just keep repeating the last one. But the moment you step into your head and try to come up with some interesting, clever way to say something that will elicit a response in your partner, you stop giving your partner anything to work with. You disconnect with them as you connect to yourself. I'm not saying you shouldn't be aware of yourself and your impulses and what you are feeling about certain things, but you shouldn't find yourself sitting in it. If someone calls you nice and you don't like it, stop being nice. If someone turns you on and you want to kiss them, do it. Don't sit and think, "If I kiss him, he'll take it the wrong way and then we'll feel awkward and now I'm conflicted because I want to kiss him but I don't want to kiss him and wouldn't it be nice if he wanted to kiss me instead?" Act! Not in the "be an actor" sense, but in the "just do it" Nike kind of a way.

I'm not pointing these things out to point fingers. I get wrapped up in my own thoughts, too. I second guess my impulses. I find myself wondering what is wrong with me that people react (or don't react) to me the way they do (or don't). There is a part of me that wants to take it back to the sort of odd structure of the class. These people don't know me from Adam, and are therefore afraid to get up on stage and take risks with me. I don't know how to let them know I won't hurt them, and that they can't hurt me. Or that it is okay if they hurt me. Or that if I yell at them in an exercise, it doesn't mean I don't like them. I want to put a disclaimer on the start of class next week that says, "I like you all as people. Nothing you can do or say on stage tonight will make me stop liking you all as people. If you feel the need to hold back for my sake, please don't. If you feel the need to hold back for your sake, I'm probably going to call you on it. If you let it all out, I will embrace it and be very kind to you." Or something to that effect. I want them all to know that.

Through these classes, I have also become acutely aware of my own gender. Normally, it's not really an issue for me. I'm a person. I work with people. I talk to people. I don't speak to men differently than I speak to women (generally). Perhaps it comes from years of rejections from men that I just go in assuming they're not attracted to me, so I approach pretty much every relationship from an asexual perspective. Yes, there are a couple of notable exceptions - men I have no idea how to talk to because I really want to talk to them in that sexy, flirty, confident way, but I don't know how or don't have the confidence to try. But for the most part, six days out of every seven, I'm a person, not a woman (if that makes any sense). But last week, one woman said she wanted to work with a certain man because he was a man. I've noticed that she has very different interactions with men than with women. She flirts with men and toys with them. She is standoffish with women and seems to go into interactions with women with her guard completely up like she really doesn't want to be there. There are a couple of pairs of men who have had really awkward interactions because it is as if they don't know how to talk to other men. And I realized tonight that I have not worked with any of the men in class, and that most of the interactions I have had with women are of a semi-nurturing nature. Seeking friendship and comfort and positive feelings (the notable exception being the woman who is uncomfortable working with women). But what this whole thing has done is re-acquaint me with my own gender and the hidden sexual potential (or lack thereof) therein (which honestly makes me uncomfortable and self-conscious). I don't know how the men in this class would react to me. I think a couple of the men in class last night found me attractive. I would even go so far as to say I think some of the people in this class are confused regarding my sexuality. Maybe that is threatening? They haven't been able to place me yet, so they don't know how to interact with me. In a way, yay. In a way, boo. Interact with me as I am in the moment in the exercise. Yay, though, because it would seem to imply that I have been different enough in each of my exercises that I can't be typed yet.

I don't know. I think I'm babbling now.

I think, too, that there is a difference between reality and truthfulness. This exercise is looking for truthfulness. If you feel like walking away, walk away. If something your partner did makes you want to hug them, hug them. In reality, first of all, we wouldn't be talking to each other in one word sentences like this. But also in reality, it is not always appropriate to walk away from someone you are having an intense interaction with, nor is it appropriate to hug a stranger. I think that while this exercise is excellent for finding truthfulness that you can infuse into the imaginary reality of a play, people need to remember that this is not reality. This is an exercise. You are feeling real things and doing real things and acting on real impulses that come from a very truthful place, but what you say and do is not going to look anything like how you interact with ordinary people in your ordinary life. This is a heightened reality - it's okay if your conversation doesn't make sense.

I dunno. I'm having fun. I'm loving being in class. The teacher noticed that I have made progress from last week to this week, and even between my exercises tonight. I think I cold be really good at this and I very much want to keep learning.

I need to remember to stretch, though. I'm still all kinds of sore.

Ow.

Ow.

I am bruised. Literally. I was beaten. Literally. I am exhausted and exhilarated and excited. Literally. I am icing my feet.

I don't know if there is a way to effectively describe a theater movement class to someone who has never taken a theater movement class. I don't know if there is a way to effectively describe a Meisner class to someone who has never taken Meisner. So imagine the position I am in trying to put into words a Meisner based movement class. I don't know that it can be done. But I'll try.

We played. We jumped and ran and walked and stopped and squealed and pouted and crawled and spun and fell and grew and shared and touched and built and posed and felt and experienced. Pick an action verb, and we probably did it. Pick an action verb that does not result in injury, and we probably did it. Though I did get clocked in the face during one jumping session. And I spent so much time on my knees, they are all red and don't even really look like knees anymore. The thing is, you put six people in a room and tell them to move around and people will tend to do similar things. It's how we're raised to function in society, going as far back as babies learning social smiling. But in a theater movement class, or on a stage, it's not about doing the same thing as everyone else. It is about participating, but bringing something unique and interesting to the table. If everyone else is standing, find a reason to lie on the floor. If everyone is kneeling quietly, find a reason to skip. Add variety. Truthful variety - it has to come from somewhere and have motivation and purpose - but by changing things even just slightly, the whole picture changes and what was a funeral is now a boat ride down the river that ends with the overthrowing of an evil tyrant. And it all makes sense.

Everything that there was in the Wednesday class existed in this class, too - moments, connections, interactions, introspection - but most of tonight happened without words (as opposed to Wednesday that was mostly words). It really is an interesting combination of classes to be taking together. And maybe it's a good thing that the classes are back to back - maybe my work in the physical class will help me follow my impulses more in the verbal class. Because there is physicality in the verbal, and at the end of the night, there was verbal in the physical. It all comes together to make us live truthfully.

But I think I need to stretch now. I bent and twisted and squatted and ran and jumped so much - and for three hours - that I'm going to be horribly sore tomorrow if I don't. Even more sore than I already am, I mean. Literally, I'm icing my feet. I have a huge bruise and two scrapes on my one foot. My knees don't look like knees. My back hurts. My elbows hurt - I can't figure that one out at all. If nothing else, it's going to be encouragement for me to stay in better shape. I need to keep up with the other kids in class.

Oh, in case it wasn't clear, I had a great time in this class and can't wait for next week. My injuries are badges of honor.

Pre-Class #2

So as we all know, I was kind of disappointed that my class was canceled on Saturday, but it has been rescheduled for tonight! Hooray! Kind of. I'm really looking forward to going and moving and experimenting and playing. Tuesday nights just have a different feel from Saturday mornings, though, and this puts my classes on back to back nights instead of spaced evenly through the week. And tonight is the All-Star Game, which I had really wanted to watch. But I can always catch the game online at a later time. I can't always go somewhere and explore all of the wonderful things that my body can do.

I will admit that I'm nervous, just like last time. I don't think any of these people are the same as in the other class, so again, a whole new group of people to deal with. And what if they look at me funny because I'm wearing jeans? I know they said to wear something you can move in and I can move in my jeans. Besides, I don't really own sweat pants, except for my pajamas and I'm not going to go do this in my pjs. And I'm not going to wear spandex to class, either. I don't think it would make a very good impression on my classmates if I blind them in the first class. Plus, I will be uncomfortable and self-conscious if I'm wearing sweats or spandex. So I'm going to wear my comfy jeans and I'll have to deal with their strange looks.

You'd think I'd be used to strange looks by now...wish me luck!

Saturday

Class was canceled today. I was looking forward to this class more than the other one, because this one was a physical movement workshop. Call me selfish, but I was looking forward to getting some strange kind of exercise on Saturday mornings for a month. Yes, I could still jump around at home and do something interesting, but it's not the same. I'm hoping the class either gets rescheduled or more people sign up for it.

In lieu of class, I might go play in the subway today. Might.

First Class

My first class was Wednesday night. I haven't been that nervous about anything in a very long time. I didn't know what stage of the repetition exercise we were going to start with and what if I moved too fast or too slow or what if everyone else was much better at it than I am and I'm walking into a room full of people who don't know me from Adam and with whom I have absolutely no previously established level of comfort or trust and what if that taints everything and makes me too scared to participate? But that fear should make me participate, yes? And I should let them all see it because then I will be living truthfully in the moment and that is what this whole exercise is about. That is what acting is all about - living truthfully in the moment (under imaginary circumstances). I think that in general, I am a pretty truthful person. When I feel like doing something, I do it. When I don't, I don't. I'm pretty decent at expressing myself in one way or another. Granted, I'm not perfect at it and there are a few disingenuous things that I do (like my day job), but in general, I think I am pretty aware of how I'm feeling and what I'm doing and what impact those things have on the people around me.

So we started by playing tag. There wasn't a lot of actual tagging going on, often times, I think, because people were so engaged on what was happening in front of them that they didn't want to interrupt it. We all wanted to see where this was going to go next. The teacher told me to observe for a bit, and I wanted to jump in a half a dozen times, but I didn't until the second half of the class. There was one woman who just seemed to want to pick fights. There was another woman who would get flustered and in her head and would miss things in her partner. There was a guy who was TOTALLY in his head to the point where he wasn't giving his partners anything to work with, so they would start either projecting things onto him or making observations about themselves. There was a guy who would get protective and defensive, letting the energy fall out of the moment exactly when the moment called for escalation. And there was me. I don't think either of my partners were very good at reading me, which makes me think there was something I was doing to make myself unreadable. I thought I was being expressive and open, but I guess I wasn't. There is the possibility that my partners were also either projecting something onto me or that they came in with a preconceived notion of what they were going to find, but I can't change what they do. I can only work on what I do. And if it means I need to be more open and expressive and direct so that people understand me, that's something for me to work on.

I think a lot of people went into the exercise with an agenda, instead of just letting the exercise happen. "I'm going to make him yell at me." "I'm going to ask her to comfort me." Which made for a few false moments, I felt. Did you really see anger, or did you want to see anger? And then the other really strange part about it was that some of these people who so clearly had an agenda would choose very safe words to use. "Smiling" instead of "happy" or "uncomfortable." Instead of trying to get at the root of why someone was suddenly laughing, they would just say "laughing." Laughter doesn't always indicate amusement. People can laugh out of discomfort or as a defense mechanism or out of surprise. And while it is a 100% truthful observation to point out that a laughing person is laughing, I think it then becomes difficult for the laughing person to react to that. If you tell me I'm wearing sneakers and I'm wearing sneakers, I can't really feel one way or the other about that. It is a statement of fact. A true statement, but a safe, unqualified statement. If you tell me I am wearing ugly sneakers or fucking awesome sneakers, that will elicit an emotional response. I know that it is safer and easier to point out the obvious sneakers. My thought is that this exercise is about stepping outside of safe. I could be wrong. Or that could be another thing for me to work on - to call my partners out on it when they choose safe words.

In both of my exercises, my partner ended up disliking me and saying so. This is a personal comment, but it's not a personal comment, if that makes any sense. When we leave the stage, we go back to the place where they really don't know anything about me yet, nor I them, and I think we will get along just fine as regular people. But in the moment, in the exercise, they didn't like me. Looking back on it, I think it is because I was making them uncomfortable. I think one woman was frustrated with me and the other was just uncomfortable. Looking back, I think this was a good thing. I elicited a visceral response in my partners. I hope, in a very strange way, that I scared them. I think my classmates might have thought I was safe or timid, since I didn't really socialize before class. But I'm not an extrovert - this has been established and documented. I think they thought that would manifest on stage. And I think I surprised them with my honesty. Yes, I could be more honest, and I need to work on following my impulses more, but I think they thought working with me was going to be safe and easy and then it wasn't and they didn't like that. I dunno. Just a thought. Maybe I should try to get everyone in the class to not like me. Wouldn't that be interesting?

I'm looking forward to continuing with this. I don't think there was anyone in the class who was any better or any worse at this than I am. I think there is a lot that I can learn from working with these people and this instructor. I love it that I left with so much to think about. I think I may have found the challenge I have been looking for for the last ten years or so, and what's more, I think I'm up for facing it.