Five and a half hours 'til call time.
My routine got screwy this week—down with the flu for a couple of days—so I've spent more time sleeping than trying solo exercises. With errands to run today, that means lots of character work in the car.
I've been playing reeeeaaaaaaaaally close to myself lately. Which means I'm already roaming around in my own head, giving advice, making judgments. The further I get away from my own body, the more likely I am to think as someone else—or at least someone else's filter—so it becomes a matter of strengthening the muscles and honing the tools that let me step outside.
Because I have pretty much a 50/50 left-brain/right-brain split (something reinforced in every evaluation I've had for years), it's hard to avoid a little thinky stuff edging into the creative part. The way I usually get around that is by putting myself in a place where I evaluate the scene by character rules instead of improv rules. Status works well...but playing with words (limiting them, cutting myself off, ranting, starting with a noise) and physicality (leading with a body part, physical quirks or habits) work too.
It'll be nice to be up on stage with some of my favorite folks to play with. And even though Spite is a subset of Tantrum, there are completely different vibes with each.
Five hours and 25 minutes until call time.