I’m not sure what’s happening to me. In the past couple of days I’ve told my group I feel ‘very connected’ to them, I sang/shouted (We are the Champions) in a karaoke bar before I’d finished my first drink and most horrifying of all, I’ve started enjoying improv. I’ve been here almost a week and I’m already dreading the end. I’ve played characters that scare me and amaze me. I’ve learned African dances and sung Aboriginal songs. I’ve watched some incredible performances by our guest perfomers. And I’ve started working on a solo show that I’m both excited about and overwhelmed by. I blame the mask exercise, I think there was a bit of voodoo mixed up in that. There’s no way I could have enjoyed playing my masked character without it.
The writing is hard. Every conversation opens up a new way of looking at my characters and expanding the piece. I keep thinking that in someone elses hands, this could be brilliant. On Monday, we’re supposed to have the first read-throughs of our scripts. At this point I’ll be reading three mediocre blogs.
Fortunately it isn’t all good. I really can’t bear to spend time in my prison cell/room. I’m feeling too lazy to exercise. And the food remains reassuringly bad. That’s the motto for Fresno State University – ‘when everything around you is changing for the better, you can always go to the cafeteria.’