The last few blog posts I've written have been very successful. The more that happens, the less desire I feel to write because I'll compare whatever I do next to that recent success. If it doesn't do as well, I've failed.
I've been doing improv comedy for the past few years. Improv is a pretty constant source of upsetting insight into myself. I've recently discovered just how much of my capacity for play and experimentation is locked behind a door called "Don't disappoint anyone" (Or they'll reject you forever). I know its silly - the more I'm afraid of looking like a fool, the worse my improv is. The less I write or draw, or experiment on the piano. I know consciously that playing it safe isn't actually helping, but I can't seem to shake the habit. Its been really devastating to notice the sheer amount of myself caught in this trap. I feel stuck.
Putting myself out there with my creative work - in any of its forms - and just letting the world judge me for me? Its terrifying.
I’m coming up on my 1-year anniversary of getting into improv comedy. I’m also a software engineer, which it appears we have in common as well.
For what it’s worth, I’ve found that the logical, engineer side of my brain is a HUGE asset to my improv. Coming from a game-based, UCB-style background, I’ve learned that the “unusual thing” (aka the game) can really only “pop” and get laughs if the “voice of reason” is really good at grounding the scene in a base reality. That’s where my logical, engineering brain nails it.
You’re doing a brave thing by putting yourself out there. Keep honing your craft, and don’t forget to have fun! Good luck.
I hear what you're saying. You're doing a brave thing too!
At this point I've done some UCB style classes and some slower improv where we play it more "real" and honest. I don't think I really like the UCB style anymore. The more improv I do, the more see the UCB approach as a bit of a trap for smart people.
The UCB style is alluring because it implies that you can think your way to being a good performer. But when you actually pay attention to what gets the biggest reactions from the audience during shows, its almost never the "clever" ideas. My favorite improv to watch is almost obvious - where the performers breathe and look at the audience and then do the "dumb" thing that you might never have thought to do.
Its hard to explain these kind of moments. I once saw a performer endowed as a "horse breaker" who needed to get to Mars by his 3rd scene. I was in the audience stressing out on his behalf - how can he get to mars? But of course, he's a horse breaker. He goes to Africa and "breaks" the best horse there ever was so much she could fly him to mars. Its all made up, so why not!?. The audience was in hysterics. But it didn't feel fast or clever - just a fantastic show.
"Poppy" performances bring me in my head to try and come up with the clever offer, but when I do that I sort of forget how to play and I disconnect from the moment. And I disconnect from my scene partners and the audience.
I did some clowning recently. My clowning teacher said in good clowning, the clown knows less than the audience about whats going on. And when we feel shame as a performer, we should practice sending it "out not down". As performers, our feelings are part of the show too. There's something for me in that. It feels more integrated somehow than just getting laughs on stage for being clever.
As I said, this whole journey has been full of upsetting moments of self awareness and learning. Its terrifying, but I couldn't recommend it enough if anyone is keen. Its definitely a good way to practice being brave.
The last few blog posts I've written have been very successful. The more that happens, the less desire I feel to write because I'll compare whatever I do next to that recent success. If it doesn't do as well, I've failed.
I've been doing improv comedy for the past few years. Improv is a pretty constant source of upsetting insight into myself. I've recently discovered just how much of my capacity for play and experimentation is locked behind a door called "Don't disappoint anyone" (Or they'll reject you forever). I know its silly - the more I'm afraid of looking like a fool, the worse my improv is. The less I write or draw, or experiment on the piano. I know consciously that playing it safe isn't actually helping, but I can't seem to shake the habit. Its been really devastating to notice the sheer amount of myself caught in this trap. I feel stuck.
Putting myself out there with my creative work - in any of its forms - and just letting the world judge me for me? Its terrifying.