Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Regrets?

So Jim, who now counts as a true improviser, having been through a show, a post-show business-type meeting, and post-show beer, asked this: "Do you ever have regrets after a show because you can see so clearly what you should have done?" Or something like that. 

Oh, hell yes. 

Tonight, for example, I regret that I got so swept up in the richness and the fabulousness of the stories that I primarily played with my brain, and not my gut. (I had a great past blog link for that. But I don't index.) Dammit, dammit, dammit. I am too easily seduced by narrative. Two potential plot points, and I start connecting dots in my head instead of walking in with an emotion. 

I've forgotten to remind myself not to do that. 

Also: 
  1. We could have done a parallel scene about what it means to be a woman. 
  2. I would love to get to the point where all of our scenes don't have to be funny. Baby steps. 
  3. Jim was perfect.
It was a good show. People had fun. The library is happy, and we're talking about what to do next year. 

But yeah...I got me a few regrets. The difference between me now and me a few years ago is that I let them inspire me instead of torture me. 



3 comments:

  1. I'm relieved that it's over, thrilled that people seemed to like it, and completely flattered to be considered one of the tribe, however tangentially.

    I cannot even believe how sweaty those warm-up games get me. My sense of humiliation is so ready to be activated, it makes me think that the dominant emotion of my youth must have been shame. I could've sworn it was confusion.

    The day after the show, all I could think about was how much better each of those monologues could have been, if I'd just been thinking on my feet well enough to really let the associations bloom.

    So I guess I'm more tortured than inspired. But willing to try again, should y'all ever wanna.

    You guys are amazing.

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  2. Welcome to our world! We (former CSz-ers) typically call that "day after" sensation you felt "The best of the bench". There's often that epiphany of "Oh! That would have been perfect!" and you somehow feel lesser for not realizing it in the moment.

    The great thing is, now that you have one under your belt, the next one won't make you feel nearly as tortured as you know better the shark-infested waters in which you're swimming.

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