Ow

I don't know how to start this other than to say I'm fucked up.

I had a good class tonight and I had a horrible class tonight. It was good in that I followed my impulses and I got angry and I was hurt and I pissed people off. I affected and was effected, which is the goal in these exercises (right after living truthfully). I missed an impulse to kiss my partner - the thing about kissing is that once you do it once, you want to do it again, and not necessarily in the same exercise, but it's one of those things where if you don't kiss anyone for a very long time and then you get a chance to kiss someone, you remember how much fun kissing is and how nice it can be and you really start to miss it and you start to wish you had someone to kiss regularly and if you don't, well, then you just get sad - but this time the exercise didn't die in that moment. We kept it alive. I think because he wanted to kiss me, too, but didn't because he didn't think I wanted to so he got frustrated with me and with himself and we were able to connect on that. So in that respect, it was a great exercise. The teacher let us go a long time and we ran the gamut of emotions until we kept getting into this pattern of closeness followed by self-doubt followed by frustration based in miscommunications and so on and so forth. It was a great exercise. I felt really good about it when I sat down.

But then I didn't get back up again. Part of me was pissed that a woman I worked with earlier had grabbed my scarf and choked me and when I got angry with her for that, another guy jumped in and called me irrational. Irrational. For being angry that someone choked me with my own scarf. But this other woman then came in and she got it. She saw that I was hurt and my hurt was manifesting as anger. She said, "Misunderstood," and I think a little part of me fell in love with her. And I wanted to write about everything, I wanted to pour it all out so that maybe I could be understood somewhere because I'm not in class, so I sat for the rest of the class. I could say I was tired and cold and my tummy was feeling a bit ooky, but I knew that my impulses were telling me to keep my ass in my seat.

And the whole way home...my head just hurts. I don't know how to get people to understand me. And then my first impulse is why should that bother me so much? I'm tough. I'm strong. I'm independent. But as much as I fancy myself Superwoman, I had to admit to myself in my car on my way home that I need someone to understand me. I need someone in class to realize that when it looks like I'm picking a fight, I'm trying to engage. I'm trying to call you out on your shit, and I need someone to call me out on mine. Yes, I am strong. I made myself strong because I was repeatedly hurt as an adolescent. It wasn't abuse any worse than what your typical teen has to deal with, but every single thing I did was wrong - I dressed wrong, I showed my emotions wrong, I chose the wrong life path, I befriended the wrong people, I just in general behaved wrong. I was criticized everywhere I went. I was probably praised, too, but I remember the criticisms more. That's just how I work. I can't build on the positives - yes, I'm smart and funny and pretty, but its hard to be more smart or more funny or more pretty. You venture into "trying too hard" territory. But you tell me where I'm fucking up and I can work on that. Tell me I need to open up more. Tell me I'm not following my impulses. Tell me I'm a bitch. Those are things I have control over. But tell me enough of that and I build up a thick skin. It's a survival thing.

I've been saying for years that I'm looking for a challenge and I feel it. I feel that it's right here and it's going to happen any second, but it hasn't happened yet. Someone is going to call me on my shit and I'm going to lose it and have a break through and be completely vulnerable and that will be that. It will be my catharsis. It will be what will keep me sane for the next year.

And I hate having to admit that I need someone. And I'm afraid of how people will react to that. I just told you all that I'm broken and scared. You know what? I am broken and scared. Who isn't? But I don't need somebody to fix me. You can't "fix" a rape victim, or someone who was beaten as a child - that's not what recovery is about for those people. It is about acknowledgment and acceptance. I am broken and scared and I just need someone to sit with me for a minute while I am broken and scared and just let me be broken and scared. There is nothing wrong with being broken and scared. Those things don't need to go away. I think it is wonderful that I am broken and scared and that I can admit those things and I'd really like someone to see those things and just say, "Okay." I don't want to talk about why I'm broken and scared. That's not important - I know why and how to deal with it. But a refusal to see me as broken and scared means I'm something else. It means I'm the strong one or the intimidating one or the smart one or the one with a ribbon in her hair or the quiet one or the confrontational one or the girl with the annoying/wonderful laugh. I don't want to be any of those things. I want to be a person. I want to be acknowledged as a person and accepted as a person, flaws and all. I don't want the flaws to go away; I want them to be celebrated.

So I come home, hating that I have admitted to myself that I need something from someone. I come home not knowing how to get that. I come home wanting to be able to go there in exercise with someone in my class, but not knowing yet who I can trust with that, even though I know in my heart I can trust all of them with it and they will love me that much more if I show all of that. I come home frustrated and tired and hurty and broken and annoyed with myself and satisfied and irritated with my own contentment with being okay. I come home in desperate need of a hug and a good cry. And I come home with the knowledge that I will be fantastic tomorrow because of everything I learned while sitting on my ass in class today.

Emotional Depth

I have never once in my life playfully tackled a friend sitting on the couch next to me. The two or three times in my life when I have had a "boyfriend," I always felt stupid resting my head on his shoulder. And yet, both of those things have happened in class. I tackled this woman tonight. Playfully and nobody got hurt - it was a sweet moment. And later on, I hugged her. Kind of forcefully. I kind of pulled her to me instead of going to her. No, it was not a sexual thing. She was uncomfortable and I was going to comfort her come hell or high water. So I pulled her in for a hug. And then I got so angry with her for not letting me be there. I was literally screaming in her face - yet another something I (almost) never do.

And I liked it.

I like being free to make squawking noises and guffawing when someone deflects or says something stupid. I like being free to wave my arms in the air. I like being free to let a piece of string piss me off. I like being free to say what I see and to feel what I feel and to be allowed to take things personally. It makes me live truthfully. And in my normal, everyday life, I don't get to do that. Almost never.

I look at my niece, who is the most beautiful little girl in the world and I envy her. When she is happy, she smiles. When she is not, she doesn't. When she wants to suck on her arm, she sucks on her arm. It is beautiful and impulsive and even if she had language, I don't think she could explain why she does the things she does. She just does them. We all do those things as babies, and it is because of those things that we find babies so fascinating. But at some point, we learn to not pay attention to our impulses. It becomes inappropriate to stretch in public. We all learn to put on these poker faces that say, "Everything is fine and I'm not at all offended by the fact that you're mocking my entire lifestyle because you're my superior and I'm supposed to just let you." And I know why we learn those things and I know why we behave the way we do, but sometimes, it just really pisses me off that we have to.

In my first exercise tonight, I missed an impulse. I didn't act on an impulse. I felt it - I wanted to move towards my partner at one point, but I didn't. And the exercise died because of it and the teacher called me out on it (as he should have). The last time I saw the guy I have a crush on, I hugged him goodbye and I wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, but I didn't. And the exercise died. I tried to get it back after the fact, but the exercise died. What would have happened if I had followed that impulse, just like what would have happened if I had moved towards my partner in the exercise tonight? Emotional life! Sure, either one of them may have rejected me, but it would be emotional life. It would be true and honest and I wouldn't come home feeling like crap even though the instructor said that in general, both of my exercises tonight were full of excellent work and I showed a lot of genuine emotional range. I mostly just want to cry now. And even though I'm sitting in my apartment in the dark with my cat, it feels somehow inappropriate to cry. Though I have absolutely no idea why.

This class is intense and wonderful and frightening and I wish more people could experience this and I wish I could let some of this bleed into my normal life. I kind of like being the person with impulses to go towards other people. I like being the person with emotional range. I like being physically active. I like connecting.

Maybe that's why I want to cry. I have to go back to my regularly scheduled life tomorrow.

Maybe

So I haven't written anything about Saturday's class yet because I've been unsure about what to say.

In general, I like the class. In general, I like the people. I just have absolutely no idea how I am doing in the class. On Saturday, my first exercise was deemed good. In my second exercise, I think we had a bit of a break through on the topic of my vulnerability - I need people to like me. In my third exercise, I dunno. I felt like crap. I feel like crap a lot in class (which most people tell me is a good thing), but I also don't know that that crappy feeling is ever addressed. My partners get hurt and angry, but if I express negative emotions, I feel like they get angry and frustrated right back at me. I don't know. Maybe I need to learn to sit in the negative emotions a little better. Maybe I need to stop trying to fix things. Maybe I need to let my partners be upset when they need to be upset. Maybe I need to take down my walls and let myself show that I'm hurt when I'm hurt instead of getting defensive.

On the other hand, I seem to be really good at helping my classmates have good exercises. I'm not sure what that means, but there are several of them who have been having problems with one thing or another, but when they get up there with me, they do really well. Maybe I'm calling them out on their crap really well. Maybe I am being communicative and expressive. Maybe I'm just really easy to work with, or maybe they trust that it's safe to go there with me.

It is starting to show a little bit that some people are progressing faster than others. You start to see some of the same comments show up in exercises a day or two apart, with different people. I hope I'm one of the ones that is progressing. I think maybe what I need to do is make sure I get in on an exercise with one of the other people who is, too, and see what happens.

Blah

Well, I think we're all in the same boat together, which is nice. I talked to some of my classmates last night and we all feel like we're doing awful. If nothing else, we can all take comfort in a level playing field, yes?

I didn't feel like working a lot last night, which is fine, though I ended up going up twice. I started and exercise and I followed someone in on her exercise. The first one was interesting - I was working with a woman I haven't quite been able to figure out yet. I don't know if the exercise helped me see her better or made her more mysterious. Though it did serve to illustrate a point that the teacher was wanting to make, so in that respect, I think it was good. And it was a rather physical exercise - lots of movement. The second one, I think I screwed up from the get-go because I went to enter the scene at the same time as someone else which broke my focus from the woman already up there, and changed her truth, but I proceeded with what my original observation had been. I should have observed her anew when I entered. And that one was just...odd. I dunno. The teacher didn't say much to me in that one.

One thing I am noticing though, is that often times, what I'm feeling is not what is being read by my partners or the instructor. Which makes me wonder what I'm hiding and how I'm hiding it. They do see something in me, though it's not always what I'm feeling - they see playfulness in my move for power, or they see fear in my frustration. I can see how they would see those things - they are more textual than subtextual if that makes any sense. I think I would like to open up enough that they can see the subtext in addition to the text. Might help them get a better reaction out of me. Up the stakes, so to speak.

I dunno. Like most things, I just have to keep plugging away at it. One day, it will all click and be amazing.

Yes and No

I had one good exercise today, out of the four I went up for. I was a smidge behind on my impulses, but in general, it was deemed lovely. I had one exercise where I lost all emotional life. I had one exercise where both of us just kind of stopped. And I had one exercise where...I dunno. I just didn't do well.

On the positive side, I jumped up to work a bunch, without necessarily waiting for someone else to go first. I worked with both men and women. And I worked where I started things and where I joined someone already on stage. I helped one woman in class get to (in the teacher's words) the most honest place she's been so far, so I think that's good. I got better at following my impulses. I kicked a phone which was not good, but I knew it wasn't going to go far enough to hurt anyone.

But I dunno. I don't feel good about the work I'm doing in class. Maybe I'm trying too hard to connect with people or have different exercises each time or hit all of these weird mini-goals I set for myself (like working with both men and women, being the instigator and the instigatee, etc). I probably need to just relax and be. That's what this is all about. I need to get rid of my own agendas and just do the exercise and see what happens. And/or I could always talk to the instructor and see what she thinks of what I'm doing. Find out if I'm a lost cause. Find out if she thinks I need to work on the same things I think I need to work on, or if I'm missing the boat completely and need to head in another direction.

I don't think I'm the only one who is struggling in class. Though somehow, it's cute when the one girl won't (or can't) admit that she wants to climb into the guy's lap, but it's frustrating when I'm not having any impulses, if that makes any sense. Like I should be doing better. Maybe I'm just being too hard on myself.

And now I have about a half an hour to prep for an audition tonight. I'm using a new piece and I'm not sure how it's going to go over. I don't know that I have prepped it as much as I probably should, but my older monologues are so dusty; I really don't want to pull that crap out again. Besides, if it scares the crap out of me, I'm probably doing the right thing, right?

Kind of Sad

I had signed up to take the physical theater movement workshop again this term, but the class didn't fill, so it was canceled. This makes me sad for many reasons.

I was looking forward to some intense physical activity one night a week (something other than running in place in my apartment).

I need to work on following my physical impulses, and this class over the summer really helped me do that. I wanted to be able to continue this work.

I think it is a nice complement to go from a physical Meisner class to a verbal Meisner class. Yes, both classes hit on both (a little), but I think the two work well together. You learn how the physical inspires the verbal and how the verbal inspires they physical. As actors, we need to use every tool available to us, and these both need to be developed and focused on and utilized.

But I think it mostly makes me sad because of the potential commentary on the state of actors in this city. We're all too lazy to take a physical movement class. Everyone wants to be an actor, but nobody wants to develop their physical skills. What gives? Isn't half the fun of acting the play of it? Running around and behaving like children? I guess this is why we see so many half-movements on stage (i.e. people who lean into their scene partner and yell as opposed to moving towards their partner and getting in their face, or people whose arms are glued to their bodies, or people who only act with their hands and voices) - nobody took the time to develop their full body physical impulses. That makes me sad.

And the selfish reason - if nobody else signed up for the class, I don't get to develop my physical impulses either. Drat.

What I Wanted to Do...

When I got up there, I was going to be in the space and adjust the chair, and maybe notice the flower. And I was going to be open and receptive and let them see me just being and I wasn't going to force anything and I was going to follow my impulses and I was going to be nervous and giggly and brilliant and sad and I was maybe even going to cry.

When I got up there, I fixated on the bear. Almost instantly. I tried to connect with the bear. I felt sad for the bear. I tried to reattach his leg. I got tired of him and felt half an impulse to do something else, but the impulse left so quickly that I missed it completely so I did nothing but return my focus to the bear. Exactly what I didn't want to do. Exactly what I shouldn't have done.

I feel like I did not do well in class tonight. I didn't jump up instantly, like my first impulse told me to -- I waited until a bunch of other people took their turns. And I fell into a comfort zone when I got up there instead of being open and vulnerable and living truthfully. And I know exactly where that came from. Right now, in my everyday life, I have to fight every impulse I have with everything I have in me just so that I can get by. So I don't say things I'll regret later. So I can keep a job. So they don't throw me in the loony bin. Right before I left work, I had to leave my boss' office very quickly (after fighting the urge to tell him he was full of crap) so that I wouldn't either cry or start throwing things. And I have to do this every day. Every. Day. And within an hour of class starting, I'm supposed to turn all of that off, take down every defense mechanism, and live truthfully, following every impulse. There was part of me that just wanted to go up there and cry about the day I had. There was part of me that wanted to just go lie down and suck my tongue and twirl my hair. But I fixated on the bear because he was there and he was safe and I didn't have to look at the rest of my class and I didn't have to let them see that I'm a wreck at the moment.

I came home thinking maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe I'm too afraid to actually be any good at this. Knowing that this is what I really want to be doing, but afraid that I just plain suck at it and always will. Like that feeling that maybe you never will meet your Prince Charming. You know he's out there, but he's already married or lives somewhere you've never been and never plan on going. I want to be in this class and I want to be good at this. I want to be great at this. And the only way I'm going to do that is to learn to live truthfully.

If I just randomly start yelling one day, I'm just practicing. Just so you know.