For those of you who do not know, I signed up for an acting class. Well, sort of. When I signed up, it was full so I was on the wait list and therefore not technically in the class yet. My friend Tempra told me about the class when she decided to try acting and, after some trepidation, I decided to sign up too.
We walked into a sea of people too young to go to bars. Signs on the walls told us we could not bring food or drink into the room and I had to walk through the middle of the room with my coffee cup in hand because that was the only way to access the seats where Tempra and I could sit together. It was eerily quiet so we “old folk” nervously chatted in near-whispers.
Actually, I was fine until the teacher walked in and said cheerily, “Are you ready to act?”
“Good God, no!” was my inner response. If I had been near the door I might have bolted. As it was, bolting would have first meant walking in front of all those people, so I stayed put. Besides, I wasn’t actually in the class yet, right?
You might be wondering why the hell I would sign up for something that I clearly find terrifying. Well, it all starts with me working my way through the book The Artist’s Way.
One of the first things this book works on is creative blocks. It sets out assignments designed to get us to find all of the people and events that block us from being creative. The book is for all types of artists—writers, painters, musicians, dancers, etc. Since I am a writer, that is the focus I brought to working through the book. Until recently, I have only been thinking of writing-related creative blocks. However, I recently remembered that my oldest aspiration was to be an actor. I remember drawing a picture of me on a stage and my mom writing down that I wanted to be an actor, dancer and singer. (I sort of saw them as all one thing at the time.) A couple of years later when I was reading and writing on my own, I added being a writer, but I continued to put together plays and dance performances for my family up until I was 12 or 13. Eventually I dismissed my acting dreams as a phase all little girls go through—not something to be taken seriously.
Before I decided this, I used to conscript my cousins to my various projects. I would choreograph dance performances and make my mom and Aunt Karen watch (I never understood why they had to be dragged in—my shows were much more entertaining than the endless talking they did!). I used to have this snake puppet that I made out of a sock at some arts and crafts summer program and I spent hours doing duets with the snake, singing along to Barbara Streisand or pop songs I taped off the radio (and, yes, I realize how dorky this was). I made up all sorts of stories to go along with the songs. Once I even wrote a whole musical using taped radio songs. Again, I conscripted the cousins who made a silly mess of my serious story line; no one else seemed able to share my vision!
Lately, I have been thinking it would be nice to have something more to offer the Rogue Theatre (as the only non-theater board member), but have not been able to find a non-acting niche. Early on, they asked me if I was interested in acting, and I told them I sucked at it so, no, I wasn’t interested. Now I am wondering if maybe this has all just been assumptions on my part.
Then I suddenly remembered that I actually was involved in theatre for many years growing up. I went to several acting workshops for kids with a community theatre group in town (I have no idea who, now), and I auditioned for small parts a couple of times. I also took drama in both junior high and high school. But I was never in a play. I have always assumed that meant the teachers could see I had no talent. That might have been the case. It might also have been that I just needed some work to draw me out, and the teachers just weren’t interested in digging. The kids that got cast were always the popular, outgoing kids. I was shy, reserved, quiet. It’s can be hard to see potential in that.
I have two acting memories that—even after all these years—still make me cringe. The first was when we were assigned to do monologues in class. I decided to do a short story that I wrote. The story was typically over-dramatic teenage angst. As a short story it was not too bad. As a monologue, not so much. Halfway through I got nervous and I froze up, completely forgetting the words. I found my place again, but couldn’t keep the emotion going, which might have made the monologue work. Instead it fell flat. So, the performance failed, and I left myself doubly vulnerable because it was my performance and my writing. For an already geeky, awkward and decidedly not popular teen, that certainly didn’t help.
Later that year we did auditions for the musical Oklahoma. I have no memory of actually auditioning but I know I did. Instead of getting a part, the teacher made me the director. At first I thought that was a great honor and opportunity, but she didn’t give me any instruction and she actually did all of the directing. I had to spend my free afternoons sitting around watching her direct the kids in rehearsal, feeling like a fifth wheel. She let me have a say here and there, but by the time the play was opening, I was completely deflated. I decided that she made me director not because she thought I would be good at it but because I was so bad at acting. Looking back now, maybe that was the reason, but maybe not.
I have so much emotional baggage tied to the subject that it is hard to say if I have any real interest in acting or not. But The Artist’s Way is not just about one form of creativity, and it is not about just one form of creative block. I realized that my creative block surrounding acting might be holding me back in all sorts of ways. Too often I am still that shy, reserved, quiet kid waiting to be ridiculed for speaking up, or verbally run over and overshadowed by flashier, more flamboyant folks. Too often I am timid and do not share what would actually be most welcome. This impacts everything I do—my career, my relationships, my social action work, as well as my writing. Maybe I need to work on this creative block before I will truly be able to move forward as a writer. Maybe I need to work on this creative block before I will be able to move forward in my career.
Which is why tonight I had my first acting class since high school. If I didn’t have a friend in the class, I probably wouldn’t go back, even though I made it off the wait list. It’s just too scary! You know how they say that every day you should do one thing that scares you? Well, I think this one might count for several months worth. But, even though I am scared, I am also excited to stretch beyond my current boundaries of Self. And that is a good thing.
We walked into a sea of people too young to go to bars. Signs on the walls told us we could not bring food or drink into the room and I had to walk through the middle of the room with my coffee cup in hand because that was the only way to access the seats where Tempra and I could sit together. It was eerily quiet so we “old folk” nervously chatted in near-whispers.
Actually, I was fine until the teacher walked in and said cheerily, “Are you ready to act?”
“Good God, no!” was my inner response. If I had been near the door I might have bolted. As it was, bolting would have first meant walking in front of all those people, so I stayed put. Besides, I wasn’t actually in the class yet, right?
You might be wondering why the hell I would sign up for something that I clearly find terrifying. Well, it all starts with me working my way through the book The Artist’s Way.
One of the first things this book works on is creative blocks. It sets out assignments designed to get us to find all of the people and events that block us from being creative. The book is for all types of artists—writers, painters, musicians, dancers, etc. Since I am a writer, that is the focus I brought to working through the book. Until recently, I have only been thinking of writing-related creative blocks. However, I recently remembered that my oldest aspiration was to be an actor. I remember drawing a picture of me on a stage and my mom writing down that I wanted to be an actor, dancer and singer. (I sort of saw them as all one thing at the time.) A couple of years later when I was reading and writing on my own, I added being a writer, but I continued to put together plays and dance performances for my family up until I was 12 or 13. Eventually I dismissed my acting dreams as a phase all little girls go through—not something to be taken seriously.
Before I decided this, I used to conscript my cousins to my various projects. I would choreograph dance performances and make my mom and Aunt Karen watch (I never understood why they had to be dragged in—my shows were much more entertaining than the endless talking they did!). I used to have this snake puppet that I made out of a sock at some arts and crafts summer program and I spent hours doing duets with the snake, singing along to Barbara Streisand or pop songs I taped off the radio (and, yes, I realize how dorky this was). I made up all sorts of stories to go along with the songs. Once I even wrote a whole musical using taped radio songs. Again, I conscripted the cousins who made a silly mess of my serious story line; no one else seemed able to share my vision!
Lately, I have been thinking it would be nice to have something more to offer the Rogue Theatre (as the only non-theater board member), but have not been able to find a non-acting niche. Early on, they asked me if I was interested in acting, and I told them I sucked at it so, no, I wasn’t interested. Now I am wondering if maybe this has all just been assumptions on my part.
Then I suddenly remembered that I actually was involved in theatre for many years growing up. I went to several acting workshops for kids with a community theatre group in town (I have no idea who, now), and I auditioned for small parts a couple of times. I also took drama in both junior high and high school. But I was never in a play. I have always assumed that meant the teachers could see I had no talent. That might have been the case. It might also have been that I just needed some work to draw me out, and the teachers just weren’t interested in digging. The kids that got cast were always the popular, outgoing kids. I was shy, reserved, quiet. It’s can be hard to see potential in that.
I have two acting memories that—even after all these years—still make me cringe. The first was when we were assigned to do monologues in class. I decided to do a short story that I wrote. The story was typically over-dramatic teenage angst. As a short story it was not too bad. As a monologue, not so much. Halfway through I got nervous and I froze up, completely forgetting the words. I found my place again, but couldn’t keep the emotion going, which might have made the monologue work. Instead it fell flat. So, the performance failed, and I left myself doubly vulnerable because it was my performance and my writing. For an already geeky, awkward and decidedly not popular teen, that certainly didn’t help.
Later that year we did auditions for the musical Oklahoma. I have no memory of actually auditioning but I know I did. Instead of getting a part, the teacher made me the director. At first I thought that was a great honor and opportunity, but she didn’t give me any instruction and she actually did all of the directing. I had to spend my free afternoons sitting around watching her direct the kids in rehearsal, feeling like a fifth wheel. She let me have a say here and there, but by the time the play was opening, I was completely deflated. I decided that she made me director not because she thought I would be good at it but because I was so bad at acting. Looking back now, maybe that was the reason, but maybe not.
I have so much emotional baggage tied to the subject that it is hard to say if I have any real interest in acting or not. But The Artist’s Way is not just about one form of creativity, and it is not about just one form of creative block. I realized that my creative block surrounding acting might be holding me back in all sorts of ways. Too often I am still that shy, reserved, quiet kid waiting to be ridiculed for speaking up, or verbally run over and overshadowed by flashier, more flamboyant folks. Too often I am timid and do not share what would actually be most welcome. This impacts everything I do—my career, my relationships, my social action work, as well as my writing. Maybe I need to work on this creative block before I will truly be able to move forward as a writer. Maybe I need to work on this creative block before I will be able to move forward in my career.
Which is why tonight I had my first acting class since high school. If I didn’t have a friend in the class, I probably wouldn’t go back, even though I made it off the wait list. It’s just too scary! You know how they say that every day you should do one thing that scares you? Well, I think this one might count for several months worth. But, even though I am scared, I am also excited to stretch beyond my current boundaries of Self. And that is a good thing.
2 comments:
Is have always loved your writing. Thank you for suggesting this book. Good luck with your class, it sounds terrifying!
Nikki, you're amazing!
Post a Comment