improv

Yesterday the idea came up that when you are creating art it is an act of love to create something genuine and true and that it pays off, when improv-ing, to play complete attention to the other person, respond to them, sacrifice yourself and any preconceinved notion or premeditated idea that you have of how to act, move, or respond. Put the other completely before yourself. Anyway, when doing such monotonous tasks as vacuuming up Christmas tree needles, there were many times when I wanted to stop. There were so many needles. And I kept thinking to myself “well I’ve vacuumed enough and that’s probably good enough.” And with the tires; “well I’ve moved enough and organized them relatively well, so that’s good enough.” But good enough is not good enough. It’s not loving. It’s mediocre. And little monotonous tasks like vacuuming up Christmas tree needles or moving tires can teach you a thing or two about yourself. When good enough becomes good enough then it becomes a lifestyle. 

I brushed my hand over the carpet after going over the same spot with the vacuum again and again. There were still needles stuck in the rug, even after I had taken the larger part of the vacuum off the hose and got down on the floor to vacuum with the hose. I could have left them there, but someone else might have stepped on them and felt discomfort. Someone other than me.

My laughter has changed over the years. My voice has changed, too. Not because of puberty or anything, but because of interactions with others that have taught me a thing or two about how volume, pitch, intonations, and other variables that define how your voice sounds affect the way your voiced thoughts and ideas are received by others. I remember when I took acid, the day after I had an “acid laugh.” I’ve had a jolly laugh, a loud laugh, a quite giggle. You see people and listen to people and love people and sometimes you want to imitate what you love. And then eventually, after all of the imitations are gone and you’ve found something that is you, or maybe a culmination of all of the experiments in imitation you’ve done, you’ve got a laugh that’s yours.

The great thing about improv anything is that you're job is to highlight the other other person. Great improv comedy happens when each troupe member someone makes the other troupe members funnier. You are only funny if the people around you laugh. You're only loved if the people around you support you by loving you.