Sleepy Monday

Wow. I have 5 cents in my checking account. (Luckily, the medical reimbursement has been processed, though those always take a couple of days to register in the bank.) I thought more about that dream, it was actually pretty loaded. Woulda' been something if I'd actually gotten myself moved out of the house. The elephant is starting to speak more. There's a spider on the outside of my window that just dashed into the center of a web and then back out again. I've never seen a spider move that quickly. Now it's hiding on the corner of the pane, waiting. Maybe it knows something.

Shoot, have to go home before the clown thing: I forgot the short-things that are part of the costume. Kinda' need them.

I get disillusioned when I think about how good that performance was on Saturday, and how far away I still am from finding that in myself. Someone mentioned to me yesterday that she had paid an acting coach with help for an audition, I'm strongly considering that. Will see how the non-clown group evolves, I need to perform the monologues to someone before I do the audition, and that terrifies me at the moment. It makes me feel exposed. It's actually flip-flopped with how I feel about singing now, which is interesting; they aren't my words, still maybe it's that the emotional choices would be mine, I guess. I'm worried I wouldn't make good ones, or be able to make any at all.

The clown jam was fun. I haven't done anything since July. It's still really scary to do something solo in front of the group, not as scary as in George's class (for one, we don't have to stay up there as long), but scary. I'm my own worse critic, I fear that my energy is too low and I won't be able to bring energy into the exercise. I think the whole concept is for support, and continuation and sharing of exercises and work...I don't think anyone is sitting there hoping I fail. There is so much generosity in the room. The fear is all in my head: I'm not creative enough, not expressive enough, not interesting enough, blah, blah, blah. I need to do all this more to shut up that voice: you/I have to actually have the courage to get up and do the work, the exercises, whatever to get better. It takes guts to try. It takes guts to get up and try it again after you fail. And again. Take that, inner critic. The critical voice is private, hiding in the secrecy of shadows, the work is out in the open, failing publically. The critic isn't going to win.
(My brain isn't really working on functioning thoughts anymore. And except for a haiku or two, I pretty much write from what's spilling out of my head without much filter. Apologies for when it's not all that coherent.) Night.

Oh, thank God, the reimbursement deposited.