Finally, practice

Our first Meisner-practicing group met tonight.  It was good.  We did chair-work (there were only three of us, so, 2x each), and another vulnerability exercise.  We did each chair session for 15 minutes, and the other for five; I mention the timing because in some ways while in it, it feels like forever, and then when the time is up I think, "Wow, is it over already?"  The second exercise was a series of (truthful) "I feel...I feel..." stating what was going on with you in the moment, and while that was being explained, I couldn't imagine doing that for five minutes, and yet, lived through it.

In the second chair I did break down deeper and tried to stay there, but side coaching took me out of it (not always the case), and in the "I feel" exercise, I pulled back, I mean, partly, I didn't want to start crying and not be able to stop (as in the singing class, where I pretty much cried the rest of the night, and the next day); and while I realize there is a lack of trust in that decision to pull back, to not go there, the other side of me is remembering, that "this is not actually a therapy session," and trying to walk the line between those things, 'cos obviously, the point is to have access to all of you, to be vulnerable, to be fully available.  And it's a safe space for it.  I'll have to spend time writing about it on paper.  I guess there are some things I need to think about.

I'm glad this happened.  We are meeting again in two weeks, and will see how it goes; it seems it would be too much to ask to meet more often.  (It would also be really good practice to meet more often.)  One part of my head says, "Oh, how do you find the committment to this in busy life?"  But then another side says, "Well, you are all actors, and this is what you want to be doing, so, yeah, it makes sense to find the time to practice."  Again, not an art form that can really be practiced in solitude all the time, as interactions matter.

I've been wanting to find people to work with for two years, so again, this is good.

In other news, waiting to hear back from a doctor I saw earlier today regarding pressure in my chest, against my rib cage.  They wanted to rule out my heart (or a blood clot).  I wanted to rule out my gall bladder (I didn't win, and they also didn't do any blood work, which I need.)  It makes me not want to eat, because eating hurts.  Anyway, doesn't seem that anyone has called, so I'm hoping no news is good news.  Though I would like to know what's wrong...I'm too young for all of this, it's ridiculous how bad I've been feeling this year.

And then I tried to use an atm card earlier only to be told it had expired, and the balance was zero.  I never received a replacement, can't imagine anyone else could be using it.  Not super worried, as there isn't that much money in the account, though I was gonna use it to pay a bill that's due.  Can't do anything about it until tomorrow.  A lot less worried about it than I normally would be.  I guess that's progress.

Another goodbye

A teacher of mine said she thought that comedians made great dramatic actors.  I can't remember the context, but I agree with her.  I think it was the same conversation where the statement "Actors are athletes of the effing heart," (daily baring their souls, the full range of humanity, so the rest of us don't have to) came up, and either way, those go together.

Comedy, especially stand-up, is an incredibly vulnerable experience.  You are exposing you, just you, to a bunch of strangers who want you to "be funny" and make them laugh.  And if you can't, you get ripped apart.  And you get up and try again, and "toughen" up as they say, grow a thicker skin, develop a persona, a schtick, so that the rejection gets removed slightly away from your true self.

So we get used to seeing the schtick, the over-the-top, the mask.  And then when they do a dramatic role, the good ones let that drop, and we see this raw, vulnerable human being before us, and it's beautiful, and a privilege to see it.  It's rare that we see that in anyone, we do whatever we can to hide the vulnerability.  Vulnerability is viewed as a weakness, and the weak get picked off and eaten.

When she said it, I originally thought of Jim Carey in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," because I was so awed by the subtlety of that performance; or Bill Murray in "Lost in Translation" or even "Rushmore."  For me, it was such a contrast from the over-the-top, the snide, the personas that they had.

And then there's Robin Williams, who was funny, and charming, and had wonderful comedic timing, doing "Good Morning Vietnam," which I thought, "wait, Robin Williams is doing that?"  And it was good.  And then "Dead Poet Society," and "Good Will Hunting." And it was great.  Powerful stuff.  Some of my favorite movies, especially when I was younger and lost.

Thanks for the time, the laughs, the vulnerability, the hope, the talent, the deep soul, and the human being you shared with us.

RIP.

Thinking about writing

Curled up in the chairs in the common area, and in between napping, I re-read the Natalie Goldberg pages from Writing Down the Bones.  Talking about her years of journals which she allowed a friend to read.

"I've been reading your notebooks all weekend.  They are so intimate; so scared, insecure for pages, then suddenly they are not you-just raw energy and wild mind.  And now here you are - Natalie - in the flesh, just a person.  It feels so Funny."  I feel good because I don't care that she sees how I really am.  I'm glad.  I want someone to know me.  We walk through so many myths of each other and ourselves; we are so thankful when someone sees us for who we are and accepts us...We have to look at our own inertia, insecurities, self-hate, fear that, in truth, we have nothing valuable to say.  It is true that when we begin anything new, resistances fly in our face.  Now you have the opportunity to not run or be tossed away, but to look at them black and white on paper and see what their silly voices say...If you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics outside you. - Artistic Stability from Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg.

It's a strange feeling to know that anybody at all reads this.  Sometimes I get self-conscious, worry about being judged, worry even more when I think about censoring myself for fear of what people might think of me...and then I write anyway, whatever happens to come out of my head and through my fingers.  Sometimes it makes me cringe, but I'll leave it up anyway.  It was truth at the moment, if nothing else.  Sometimes when you sift through all the compost (as she calls it) something unexpected emerges.  Those moments are always worth it.