You wouldn't think it'd be so hard to get three people in the same room, but between travel, work and rehearsal schedules...well, DAMN. But we ran three different takes on our set, and landed on one that feels good.
It's not a form—just a montage with edits. (There's no need for Jill Bernard to let loose with the falcons, because we are not calling it a form.) Since our time together is limited, we want to be able to spend our hours in rehearsal on the goodies inside instead of the package; it'll also allow our Tantrum rehearsals to feed our Spite sessions.
This was the first rehearsal I tried the "positive self-talk" thing. Annoyingly, my brain immediately goes to "Here's why you won't be very good: You're rehearsing in a tiny room, so you can't play big. You're out of practice. You're weird. You're stuck in a rut." But now what used to feel like acute self-awareness feels like roadblocks, so I'm working on pushing past them instead of believing them. It sounds obvious, but it's a different feeling.
OH, and by the way...I was determined when I started this thing that it was not going to be a diary. I am not the least bit interested in exposing my most personal crap to anyone with an Internet connection. So it does feel a little odd to do this processing out loud thing as I'm working through improv issues. I'm absolutely not looking for anyone to boost me up ("You're not weird! You're not rusty! Your den isn't that tiny!").
But I am a little curious. Surely I'm not the only improviser who has to push to get out of her own way...?