Opening Night of PS You're A Mess, and a surprise in class

We opened Saturday and rocked it. It went much better than I expected, since we showed up for dress and couldn't get into the theatre because it was double-booked...the people who happened to be in already were very unapologetic and didn't seem concerned with compromise. But we were awesome in spite of them. I had a great contingent of audience members. Don't know who will come to see me the rest of the run, but I loved having my favorite and most supportive peeps there. And it was fun, to boot. I'm still learning how to fully commit and create realities for sketch characters...more actor homework required because less is handed to you. Glad to have things to explore during the run.

I had a totally unexpected breakdown in my improv class on Sunday, of all places. We were doing sense memory exercises, and started with your bathroom sink, then the car, and then your childhood bedroom. Our teacher no sooner said "childhood bedroom" than my eyes pricked with tears, and to my chagrin, kept coming. I cried all the way through the exercise and couldn't stop.

Sense memory is often utilized by actors and teachers precisely because it is such a great way to tap into emotions, but I had never before been so blindsided by what I found. It was scary for several reasons: firstly, because I'm not completely comfortable in my improv class and there is one person in particular in there that I don't trust at all, and secondly because I completely lost control, which is scary for anyone but especially for an actor, at least in this capacity. I can't utilize my own personal emotions for acting if I can't control how affected I am by what I tap in to.

My vast vault of crap I have or haven't dealt with can be a treasure trove, but I want to access it on my own terms. I never expected to become so overwhelmed in improv class.

It made me feel vulnerable, which isn't a bad thing, but as I was sitting there trying not to break into sobs, my brain was also telling me that I clearly had a lot of unresolved stuff that maybe I should re-evaluate. When I could finally talk about it later, I realized that there is a large part of me that is afraid of losing my stuff by coming to terms with it and dealing with it. Part of me feels like as soon as I face and process it, I'll lose it and won't be able to access those feelings anymore.

I don't think this is a completely reasonable idea, but it did originate in my head, along with all the other things I think of daily that may or may not be ridiculous. I need to find a way to own my shit and work through it enough to be functional. I also need to remember that coming to terms with something doesn't mean you throw it away.

Unexpected deep thoughts from LaLa Land today. I guess I'll take them as they come.