Improv starts again on October 26, and I could not be more ecstatic.
I am STOKED.
I have missed improv so much. The last time I took a class, I had so much leg pain that I couldn’t finish the final couple of sessions. I literally couldn’t even walk up onto the stage to practice or perform.
And let me tell you something:
My pretty little ass loves a stage.
I love the lights in my eyes. I love knowing there are people sitting out there but not really being able to see them. I love that tiny moment before something comes out of my mouth when even I don’t know what the hell I’m about to say.
And then—you just go.
That’s improv.
This time around, we have Greg teaching us. I’ve had him once before as a substitute, and he is such a good teacher. Honestly, all of the teachers bring something completely different to improv, which is part of what makes it so cool. Greg owns Theatre 99 and has so much experience and insight into the art of it. I’m really excited to learn from him.
And I’ll have some familiar faces with me! Sandrine and Pierre will be there, which makes me even more excited.
Technically, we’re ready for Level Three, and this is another Level Two class. But I don’t care.
Because right now, this isn’t about leveling up.
It’s about getting back up.
I need to get back on that stage.
There is something about the theater community that makes me feel completely alive. I thrive there. Everyone is willing to look ridiculous. Everyone is there to laugh. Everyone gets a kick out of everyone else. For an hour and a half, you get to walk into a room with a bunch of people and basically say, Okay, let’s make some shit up.
And somehow, while you’re busy laughing your ass off, you’re learning.
You learn to listen. You learn to trust yourself. You learn to stop planning your next sentence.
You learn to let somebody else hand you something completely absurd, and instead of saying, “No, that doesn’t make sense,” you say:
Yes, and…
What a freaking life lesson.
You don’t always have to know where something is going before you participate in it. You don’t need a perfectly formulated response. You don’t need to control the scene.
Sometimes you just take what life hands you and say, Okay. Yes, and… what can we do with this?
That’s one of the reasons I think improv is such a beautiful art form.
It’s hilarious, yes. But it’s also confidence-building. It teaches public speaking without feeling like you’re learning public speaking. It teaches you to be around people without constantly worrying about how you’re being perceived. It can loosen some of that social anxiety, build self-esteem, and remind you that looking a little stupid is not actually the end of the world.
Sometimes looking stupid is where the funniest shit happens.
And getting onto a stage and performing in front of people is a huge accomplishment for me. Every single time I do it, some little part of me goes, Yep. We can do hard things. We can be seen. We can take up space.
This round is going to be a little different because Theatre 99 is closed, so we’ll be using the Footlight Players stage on Queen Street.
A new stage. A new teacher. Some old friends. And another chance to get up there and play.
Plus, I LOVE going downtown. There is something about the energy of downtown Charleston that already makes me feel like something is happening. So now I get to head downtown, walk into a theater, get under those lights, and make shit up with people who also think making shit up is a perfectly reasonable way to spend an evening.
My people.
I cannot wait.
Improv, I have missed you.
My pretty little ass is coming back to the stage.
And, of course, this means one other very important thing:
There are about to be a whole lot more blog posts about all the bunnies at improv.
Yes, and… here we go.
