Huh?

Improv practice was the last place I wanted to be this evening. I was annoyed all day at having to go. Not that I had anything better to do - I just really didn't feel like being around anyone, or pretending to have fun when it was obvious that I wouldn't (didn't even want to) have fun. I even had a little anxiety attack in the afternoon because of that and something else I didn't want to do, and other things that have been left undone - yes, even blogging.

So how the hell did I end up doing better improv tonight than I've done in, like, weeks? Jess said I seemed to be working out some angst, and Denton was impressed that none of my characters reverted to that Shrinking Violet bit to which I'm so attached.

Sunday was my one-year-onstage anniversary. I told myself I'd reflect after a year on whether I like performing, or would rather go back to tech. I... kind of like it. I like the people I play with, and they like performing, and I can handle it, so I guess it's okay. I love the creative experience; I've just never had much of a craving for an audience. Plus, my life seems to have more emphasis on tragedy than comedy. It's just how I am. I like my operas with a body count.

Art snob.

The group creative experience is a different animal than what I'd always been used to: solitary arts like writing and drawing, or finding a separate function from the rest of the group, like stage managing. I took piano lessons, but I was never in a band. I was never even on a sports team (nor did I want to be). Sometimes, it turns out, I like feeling like part of a whole, and it doesn't threaten my individuality to say so. It's also been harder to let my emotions come through in a character than I expected it would be. I've never thought of myself as a private person - I'll talk about anything and everything - but I also like to come across as being able to handle anything and everything, and not letting shit affect me. What's really funny is that I sometimes can make myself believe that it doesn't.

Ohhh. 2+2=4.