Well, the list has been posted my dear readers, and I am sad to say that I did not make a team. This is a realization that numerous people made in the last few weeks. I can’t tell you what others felt when they looked at the list, but I can tell you my reaction: I was disappointed, but not completely surprised and was happy for those that had made a team. I felt I had a good run of 5B shows, but knew I wasn’t the best improviser in the room and truth be told, I’m ok with that.
 
At the time I saw the list, I was at the theatre so I really didn’t even get the chance to think about it in-depth until I got home, which was probably the best thing. After learning I hadn’t been put on a team, I walked back out into the Cabaret and looked around me at all of the amazing people I was hanging out with and knew that regardless of my performance status, I always hope to be a part of this theatre in some way. Although the training I received at iO was incredible, one of the best things about being a part of the theatre was the people I’ve met along the way, from fellow students to veteran players to those that run the theatre and made this experience possible.
 
The hard truth is that there is a very small percentage of people that go through the training center and get put on teams immediately. It’s a tough business, and the times they are a changing. As veterans have told me numerous times, it’s a very different experience taking classes now compared to what it used to be. Before you could be pulled on a team while you were still taking classes and the number of people put onto teams was greater. Today, not so much. The theatre and training center have grown (thankfully) but that means the same rules as before simply can’t apply. And, like any artistic endeavor, if you’re going to do this for a living or as a serious hobby, you have to be willing to accept rejection.
 
So for those of us who didn’t make the cut, how do we stay connected to the theatre? That’s a great question and the answer is different for every person. I think it really depends on how the theatre fits into your life in the first place. Some went through classes and spent very little time at iO for whatever reason. For those people, it might be that staying a part of the iO community is coming to a show every now and then. Others, like myself, find iO to be a clubhouse like none other. If a few days go by and I’ve not set foot in the theatre, I feel weird. The theatre is my home and the people inside, my family.
 
I moved to Chicago to do improv and along the way I re-discovered my love for photography, which has been incredibly rewarding. I’ll be the first to admit that I have a lot to learn in both the worlds of photography and improv, but I feel in my heart that I’m a better photographer than I am an improviser. I’ve been very lucky though that along the way iO recognized my love of photography and improv and brought me on to serve as the staff photographer for the theatre. To me, if you can’t be on-stage performing, being able to capture those moments in history is just as rewarding.
 
So where does that leave this blog you might ask? When I originally proposed the idea of doing a blog to Charna, it was always until the end…whatever that might be. Thankfully, Charna has agreed that I’m not done yet. So, from now on, this blog will be a mix of insights on staying connected to the theatre after going through classes and some of my favorite moments caught on film at iO. I thank those of you who have been on this journey with me so far and hope you will stay tuned to see where it takes us in the future…whatever that might be.  

Prior to Christmas break I made a very important decision; that I would take Level 2 again while I was doing my Level 5B shows. Now you might be asking why I would do such a thing as I’m officially “done with school.” Simple…Level 2 was, of all of the levels, my most favorite and I never want to stop learning. It was the level where I felt I learned the most about myself (on-stage and off) and grew the most as a performer. Plus, it was just so much fun. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the other levels…I certainly did. But Level 2 was to me the essence of what improv should be…a really good time; a chance to return to the innocence of childhood and enjoy once again the feelings of reckless abandon. That might seem a little much, but at the very least it was the level where I spent the least time in my head and that is worth its weight in gold.

Doing Level 5B shows is an intense experience. The training wheels are off and the stakes are much higher. We are no longer just doing scenes for our classmates; now there are people paying money to watch what we do and we want to do the best we can for them and for ourselves. We meet once a week to rehearse with a coach (during our old class time) and sometimes people simply don’t show. I can only assume it’s just not a high enough priority, which is frustrating as we all worked so hard to get to this point. This is supposed to be the fun part….we get to perform at iO. Come on. I just don’t understand why everyone isn’t excited. We took improv classes for a little over a year and I have to assume that you like improv enough to stick with it…so what gives? We shouldn’t need an attendance policy, form of accountability leverage or to collect money for the room and coach the week before. We’re not being forced to do this…this is what we love. Right? Am I crazy here?

To be completely honest, that’s why I’ve found that taking Level 2 simultaneously with my performances has been one of the best decisions I’ve made during my entire course of study at iO. I have an entirely different perspective than I did the first time through the program. More things make sense as I now know better how these principles we are learning fit into the overall grand context. It’s like watching a movie that has a lot of wonderful twists and turns; after the first time you watch it you’re intrigued and excited, but a little lost. The second time you watch it, you know what to expect and can enjoy it even more. I also really love the energy in my Level 2 class…there’s a twinkle in their eyes and innocence in their style that I adore. They don’t care about their 5B performances or know all of the “rules” of the game yet and that is refreshing.

It’s nice to be able to step back once a week to that time myself and I feel it is really helping me with my shows. At least there was a major difference between my first performance (that I did before my first Level 2 class) and the one I did this past Sunday; mainly the fact that I went into this last show and just had a really good time (and what I felt was a good performance). I remembered what we were told in class…that every scene needn’t be more than two people simply having an everyday conversation. There doesn’t need to be a huge conflict or a grand resolution every time we take the stage; simply have action and emotion and you will have a good scene. I have a tendency with most everything in my life to make it more complicated than need be, so it is great for me to have it repeatedly pounded into my brain that improv can be a reprieve from all that complication.

It was also completely fitting that then this week my new Level 2 teacher reminded us that there are really only three simple things you need to do to prepare yourself to do good scene work: love yourself, love your scene partner and love the craft…not for what it can get you or where it can take you, but for what it is. Simple, poetic, perfect.

Some of you that read this are probably not aware that in addition to being an improviser, I am also a photographer. I studied photojournalism and art photography as an undergraduate but got side-tracked from doing anything with it seriously, as along the way I discovered improv. Recently though I’ve returned to my old friend, photography. I bought a snazzy new digital camera, dusted off the old film SLR and have started shooting again. At this point you might be asking yourself what this has to do with my journey through the wonderful world of improv and I implore you dear readers to be patient, for like a good Harold, hopefully it will all make sense in the end.

I am getting ready to do my first gallery show ever this upcoming weekend and it has caused me to reflect on the differences between my two favored art forms. Overall, as an artist I have a desire to create something that people can and will identify with; something that moves or inspires them, whether it be in performance or in print. As a photographer I can carefully plan out exactly what my audience sees or doesn’t see and I can, to some extent at least, control the gallery space and the overall presentation. I know what is going on the wall and have a rough idea of how the audience might respond. I can be near my art and the audience can engage me in further conversation as they view the piece should they wish. I can look at their faces and see what their reaction is and if they aren’t moved by it, they simply move on to the next artist. There is, in essence, an incredible amount of power and control from the artist’s side.

With improv though, one never knows; for it is a wild beast that can (and does) go anywhere it pleases. You have little control over who your audience will be, what the suggestion provided will be or how the other people you are playing with are going to respond. Let alone, you have no idea how you yourself will respond in any given scene. With the exception of the first row, you can rarely see the audience and beside laughter, booing or people leaving, you have little way of knowing how your audience feels about what you’re doing. Although it does happen occasionally, it is also more rare for an audience member to approach you and want to wax poetic on your performance. In a nutshell, improv is a terrifying and wonderful thing. Having said that though, there’s just something about the thrill of not knowing that gets me every time. Although you may not appear to have as much external control, performing and having the audience on your side is a totally different kind of power that can really not be put into words easily.

And, the only way to “prepare” to achieve this is to rehearse…which is exactly what we’ve been doing for the past few weeks now for the 5B shows. The 5B shows are the capstone experience for the training center and it’s what we as students have been waiting to do for about a year. Despite the fact that I feel I had one of the single worst performances of my life with my first 5B show, I can’t wait to do it all over again next week…hopefully with better results. So what exactly happened you ask? Good question. And to be honest, I don’t really know.

I played the form Search Engine #9 which is an Internet-based form. Much like the improvised movie and improvised Shakespeare, we use the appropriate parlance to move the piece along. When we asked the audience what was something they had googled recently, only one person responded with…porn. I would lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I know that as a good improviser you should be able to take ANY suggestion and run with it and that just because the audience gives you a suggestion doesn’t mean you have to be literal and be married to it. It is a springboard. Having said that, from the moment we got the suggestion my inner improviser rolled their eyes and went to the corner to huff and not have any fun. We were told at the beginning of each level of classes that if you go out there and aren’t having fun, then you’re the asshole. Guilty as charged. I couldn’t wait for them to pull the lights fast enough.

Although it is said there are no mistakes in improv, I do believe there are stronger choices and weaker choices. I had a scene with someone I usually work really well with in class and I made weak choices. Instead of having fun and helping her pull the hair from her mouth (which was her character’s thing), I judged and told her she was the worst roommate I’ve ever had and that it was time to move out. Throughout the piece we returned to our “home page” to remind us of the ideas generated and by the end of the show I felt myself lacking enthusiasm and sarcastically delivering my suggestion. Once again, guilty as charged.

After the show Noah gave us notes and much to my surprise was not nearly as hard on us as I had been in my mind throughout the course of the entire show. You ask “shouldn’t you have been busy paying attention to the show going on and not critiquing as if you’re an instructor?” Yes; and all I can say is that at least I am aware I was doing it and will make better efforts in the future to be present on-stage. I was so mad at myself that I didn’t want to face my friends in the audience nor my fellow classmates. My stomach cringed as I walked from the Green Room to the exit by the bar, and for the first time at the theatre I was praying I wouldn’t be stopped by anyone I know. This might seem a bit dramatic, but if you’ve had a bad show, you understand. If you haven’t…you will at some point as it’s all a part of the experience.

However, in that moment I wasn’t being exactly rational. I was so angry and frustrated at myself that I grabbed my friend and left the theatre almost immediately (thus going entirely against my very last column…and no, the irony is not lost on me). I spent the rest of my evening licking my wounds with my poor friend who did his best to raise my spirits to no avail. What it boiled down to was an overwhelming disappointment in myself; I simply know better. I’ve been through the training, I know to “yes, and” and to strive for organic connections and to most importantly, have fun. I know the text, I simply just threw all of it out the window the moment I stepped up to the stage.

What is surprising is that being in front of a crowd is not a new thing for me. I work as architectural tour guide on the Chicago River for crowds of upwards of 300 people and I’ve done improv since high school in front of crowds just as big as this first show. What was different about this show from the countless other shows I have done before? Was it simply the pressure of a first show? Was it the fact that this is iO…the theatre for which I moved to Chicago to train? Was it just an off night? Perhaps all or none of these things.

Either way, I’ve had a few days to reflect on it and thankfully feel a lot better than I did on Sunday night. I’ve lived it, I’ve learned from it and am now letting it go. I’m glad the show is on its feet and look forward to see what we do with the forms for the next seven weeks. Once again, I have to remind myself that this whole experience is still a work in progress.

First off, allow me to apologize for the radio silence as of late. There’s a lot going on right now at the theatre and it’s been difficult to try to put it down in words…I’ve tried several times to no end. Although the purpose of this blog is to try to shed light on what it’s like to go through the center as a first time student, there’s a lot of little intangibles that you just can’t always put into words. A lot of emotions are heightened right now as the stakes are a lot higher than they used to be just a few short weeks ago.

Level 5Bs are quickly coming to a close and it’s weird to think that soon this little adventure will all be over, or at least this chapter. As a class we are busy developing our forms and getting ready to put them on their feet for an 8-week run. This is both an exciting and daunting process. We have three forms proposed and next week we shall narrow that down to two. We will practice these two for the remaining classes and then independently over the break and during our run.

I am surprised at how relaxed the form-developing process has been. We simply broke into three groups within our class, brainstormed for a half an hour or so and then, voila…three new forms were born. Although coming up with the idea might have been simple, getting those ideas on their feet have been anything but. We are somewhat struggling to get our ideas from paper to stage, although I am confident after we have a bit more time with them they will be ready to go. Noah (Gregoropoulos, the instructor for 5B) said he was sure that any of are ideas will be ready by the beginning of January when the run begins. This is a comfort, as he’s been doing this a lot longer than any of us have.

Of course once we have the forms ready then comes the anticipation of the opening night and the fact that people (especially the Harold Committee) are watching our every move. Of course, we can’t get caught up in that as it will do little to help anything.

In other news, I must say I’m a little disappointed in the student community at iO right now (myself included). It seems that especially this session we’re being a bit crap at supporting one another. One of the things that students are always saying is that they want an opportunity to perform. There’s a show at 10:30 pm upstairs in the Del Close Theater that in previous sessions was well attended and supported, but as of late has been anything but.

The show I am referring to is the Grasshopper Show. For those not familiar, the Grasshopper Show is a chance for those going through the performance level to play after the Level 5B shows are done each week. Everyone in the level has their name put in a box and at the beginning of each show, names are randomly selected. The selected students then get to perform with some of their favorite teachers and performers at iO.

I remember the first session that the Grasshopper Show was around. The crowds were packed. Students and non-students alike were excited to see which students would get picked and who the secret special guests would be. These days, it takes just as long to find 8 students still in the crowd as it does to perform the show. Here’s a valid question: where are the students in Level 5B going? Does everyone already have a prior performance commitment at 10:30 pm on a Sunday night each and every week? And a sub-question: why are we as fellow students not there supporting? I don’t have an answer really, just want to pose the points to ponder.

I have to commend Ryan Heywood (the show’s creator and host) for keeping his energy high despite the recent lull in numbers and seeming lack of support from the very group the show was created for in the first place. I am disappointed in the fact that this might not be around for future sessions to enjoy. It was a show created with the best of intentions…”to allow the student to become the teacher and the teacher to become the student.” Beside, how often do we really get to perform with those that we are taught by or watch each night on stage?

If this gets cut from the schedule the only ones to blame will be ourselves. We are not supporting each other and that makes me sad. I think all of us need to remember that performing at iO is a big deal and as students we should be packing our butts in the seats to support (and yes, this little pep talk goes for me as well). It took me seeing the show the other night and the lack of other students there to remind me of just that fact.

And now, if you will excuse me dear reader, I shall dismount my soapbox and head on to the theatre.

Del Close used to say that “Life is like a Harold.” As improvisers we do the same thing on-stage as we do in everyday life…we make it up as we go and hope for the best. As humans we are constantly struggling to make the most out of the time that we have here and have an impact for those in the future. As performers we are constantly striving to create an original work that will resonate with the people watching. Both are difficult in their own unique way and never truly exclusive.

To make a sweeping generalization, I think that all humans have a lot of baggage that we pick up over the years. I think that as performers we use the stage as a way to work things out scene by scene. In our last class of level 5, we were told to think about what we are most comfortable with doing and being off-stage and then be able to bring the flip-side of that to your work on-stage. What a wonderful idea.

For me, I was told that I need to play more dark and creepy people; to be willing to make my scene partner be creeped out a bit. As I am traditionally a pretty happy person in life, I know I tend to play people that are pretty happy as well. And although there is nothing wrong with that, to be an even better performer, it is good to work on my range and perhaps explore a side of my personality that rarely sees the light of day.

We were told that what notes you receive as critique of your performance are probably those that you would receive in your life, if someone were critiquing that as well. The psychology of improv is a fascinating beast to me. Let us think about this for a minute: status, commitment to the scene and character, existing in your environment…these are all things that can and do translate to your everyday life. If you take the notes you receive in class and apply them not only to your on-stage work, but to your overall life, you’ll probably be a more well-rounded person. Really, improv is cheaper than therapy and a lot more fun, so why wouldn’t you?

Throughout portions of the training here at iO, I have had moments where I felt like I had hit a very large brick wall. I was frustrated on-stage and in class and there were times when I felt like that frustration was never going to end. And then, “BAM!” something would magically click all of the sudden and things were restored to normal or (hopefully) better. Sometimes it was a concept I had been introduced to numerous times before, but for some reason is just all of the sudden made sense to me. Such a thing happened to me this week in class.

As improvisers, I feel like we spend a fair amount of time in our heads. If you talk to any group of newer improvisers, I would bet money that being in their heads would be one of their top complaints. The amazing thing was that after we were introduced to this exercise and played with it, I realized I hadn’t been in my head at all, which was perhaps a first for me. But before I share the secret to my success, let us have a little back story…

The other night we were learning the process for creating a form and taking that original nugget and watching it evolve into something you can perform on-stage. The form idea was taken and boiled down to its simplest elements and then from there we were able to extrapolate what from that original idea could translate to the stage.

After we had our form we were given the chance to play and were told to focus on varying the energy of the piece from scene to scene. The idea is so simple and yet wonderful. Look at what those in front of you are doing and make your goal to go in and to provide the opposite energy of what was just seen. Truly see what is going on on-stage and what is needed.

For example, if the first scene is two people standing on far opposite sides of the stage speaking very loudly to each other and moving very little, then the second scene could be a group of people clumped together in the center of the stage moving around a lot (perhaps as a group) and speaking only in whispers. This is perhaps a bit heavy-handed, but you get the idea.

By spending your time on the sidelines looking for the patterns within the scene you spend less time in your head and are more focused on being present in the piece. It also makes it easier to make that leap from the sidelines or the back wall as you are going out armed with something from the get-go. I had been told this similar idea a few times now, but for some reason this week it really hit home and I found myself not only listening and watching more closely, but in my opinion doing better improv than I had in a while, which was a great feeling.

The other great feeling was the idea of letting the piece just be. If two improvisers come out and start doing “crazy” movements without speaking, we don’t always have to run out from the sidelines and justify what they are doing. Give it time to show itself, and for the audience to make it what it wants as well.

If we run out and tell the audience “These two people are out of work Cirque du Soleil performers” than that is all they can be now, which perhaps takes some of the fun out of it for those on-stage and for those watching. It comes back to the idea of adding to the piece instead of trying to be as clever as possible and worrying that the audience won’t get what is going on. Regardless of what is happening on-stage, the audience is taking something out of it. It might not be the vision we as performers had in our heads, but that’s the beauty of it. We all just have to have a little faith that it will all work out in the end, whatever that might be.

Level 5 is somewhat like going to a restaurant and ordering the appetizer sampler. We get the chance to get a small taste of what several forms have to offer and see what we prefer most. Since my last post, I’ve had the chance to try my hand at the Improvised Movie, Courtesy Sleeve and the Dream.

The one consistent theme I’ve noticed about all of these forms is that initially the scene work tends to become lost in the shuffle. Of course, one has to keep in mind that we are only playing these forms for an hour and a half to three hours, so it would be ridiculous to think we’d be masters of every form in that time. I equate it with learning to play the drums, in that you have to teach your body to be able to do multiple things at the same time. At first it’s awkward and difficult but by the end you can drum in your sleep. I’m sure that as we became more and more comfortable with the format and had to focus less and less on the rules the strong scene work would naturally make a return.

Having said that, the Improvised Movie format is hard. Period. I have so much more respect for those that perform it each and every Tuesday and Friday than I already had. They make it look easy and it is anything but. You are constantly on; even if you’re not in the scene, you are picking people up or calling edits. There’s no time or room to rest in this form and I think that’s part of the success. Not only do you have to do good scene work and have strong characters, but you also have to be incredibly knowledgeable within each of the movie genres and have the ability to communicate those ideas with the parlance of movie scripts.

Courtesy Sleeve is a form that is fueled almost entirely by the idea of organic group transformations. You take the initial suggestion of a room and build that room via the players. From then on, it is all about having fun with your friends; making actions and noises and letting those lead from one scene to another. There are no traditional sweep edits and that lends it to being a bit more “arty” than some forms, but made me enjoy it a lot for that reason.

What I thought was funny about the Courtesy Sleeve format was that in class we ended up asking a ton of technical questions as if there had to be something more to it. You want us to just go be silly and have fun? Wait a minute…what’s the catch? There is none. It’s the kind of format that you can take the essence of and transfer to almost any other format or show, which was very cool.

The Dream is a format that is used in abridged form every night at iO. It used to be a full length show and now is best known as a bumper between sets. An audience member is brought on-stage and simply gives the events of their day. From the emotions, actions and details provided, the teams perform what might be that person’s dream or nightmare.

When I was still in college, long before I took classes at iO, I volunteered to be the dreamer one night. It was a fun experience and what I most remember is that the group gave me a hard time because I called Shedd Aquarium, Shedd’s Aquarium. Although it may not be earth-shattering improv, I still always enjoy watching the dreamers come up and share their day’s events and see what the players make of it. It’s a fun way to get the audience involved even more than usual and as was pointed out in class, a nice way for people to realize that what we are doing is completely improvised.

Overall, Level 5 is giving me a heightened appreciation for what has been done in the past and what could come in the future. In level 5B we will get to take all of these forms into consideration and develop our own format, which seems a bit daunting now, but I am already looking forward to seeing what we come up with in the end.

A lot has happened since my last post, so before we begin, let us recap. The Level 4 shows took place on Monday, August 20th and were a lot of fun. There were six teams that performed and it was a pleasure to get to see everyone give it their all on the Cabaret stage. I personally felt good about my team’s show and it was nice to see how all of our class time translated on-stage. It was also an incredible rush to have a large crowd and the stage lights blazing. Half way through the show I found myself having a moment in my head where I couldn’t believe this was real. The performance was easily one of my favorite iO moments thus far. A big thanks to all those who came out to support us!

And now that leads us to Level 5 where we look at other forms that inspired the Harold or that have been inspired by the Harold. It’s been really interesting to learn about the history of how the various forms have evolved and who made them popular. It’s even better to then get to try them on for size ourselves.

And although we’re only in week two of the session, I feel it appropriate to declare my love for the Bat. As of right now, I would even go so far as to say it might be my favorite form. I have seen the Reckoning perform it a few times during the summer and was very excited to be able and try the form myself.

The Bat is a form that is done seated and completely in the dark, so it’s almost like doing an old-timey radio show. The basic layout of the Harold applies, as you still do strong two-person scenes and group games, only your focus becomes more on creating interesting soundscapes and having strong vocal edits. As the audience can’t see what you’re doing on-stage, less focus is placed on object work and the stage picture.

As a performer I found it easier to get into my character and heightened more than I usually do on-stage. I attribute this to the fact that the audience can’t really see what you’re doing, so there’s almost a sense of anonymity in the performance. I think that when the lights go down we feel less vulnerable and are more able to take risks we wouldn’t normally with the lights on, which I think is rather interesting. Improv in general is a safe haven but improv in the dark is like having ultimate superhero powers. And yes, I know how dorky that sounds, but it’s true.

While I was performing I spent most of the performance with my eyes shut and was able to picture the entire performance in my head, which was an interesting change from what we do in the Harold. As sound was the only reference I had to go on, I found it easier to listen and pay attention to a lot of the smaller details that I might usually have lost in the shuffle f the performance.

Once it was time to watch the other half of the class I really enjoyed watching what the performers did with their bodies while on-stage. Some sat without moving, but others physically embodied their character and in some cases did it bigger than I think they would have with the lights on. Now the task is to take that level of focus, heightening and bravado and bring it back to the Harold.

The parts of the Harold that seems to be causing my classmates and I the most issue are the games. The games are there to shake up the pattern, change the energy and help us mentally reset for the next group of scenes. There’s no rules with the games, including time limit; they can be as long or as short as the piece calls for in the moment.

Now, we may start out with a noise or movement but we ultimately seem to turn it into a group scene. This is both frustrating but also sort of funny. What inside of us is not comfortable with just repeating something simple (noise, phrase, movement), just following it, allowing it to change organically and then calling it a day?

Children make games up all of the time. I used to spin in circles until I wanted to throw up, solely because I thought it was fun. I now see kids all of the time that make up their own songs and dances in public because they have no concept of outside judgment or self awareness/doubt. And quite frankly, I wish I could be that unaffected by the outside world. I suppose that is part of my attraction to improv. It’s one time in my life where I can sing and dance when I want to and do little things that amuse me, simply me because I can. The stage is a safe haven where anything is acceptable and possible and there is something immensely comforting about that.

Speaking of the stage, we have one last class before the Level 4 show next week, which is exciting and nerve-wracking all wrapped into one. It’s hard to not think about the fact that people are watching your every move and each performance is being judged. Although we’re all still having fun, the reality that we’re one step closer to the end of the program is definitely starting to surface.

Let’s face it, we’re all here because we love improv and want to do it on-stage at iO for an audience. The sad truth is that there’s a very small portion of people that go through the Training Center that get the honor of being put on a Harold team. The catch-22 is that you have to be aware that the pressure to perform your best is on without letting that pressure cripple you and put you in your head. What I keep telling myself is that no matter how this crazy ride ends, it’s still been one of the best journeys of my life and more fun than I would have had doing anything else and there is something immensely comforting about that as well.

One of the most wonderful things about what we do is that it’s a one-time deal. It has never been done before and will never be done again. There’s something somewhat magical about that. It’s a nice little moment of life frozen in time forever.

One of the best things about coming up to see shows at iO when I was in college was the fact that it was an experience and those who didn’t make the trip with us were missing out on something. We could try to explain it, but it was one of those things you truly had to be there to appreciate fully. The same rings true currently, even though I am here a lot more than I was in college, it’s still an event like none other.

The point was made in class this week that we should treasure each and every moment we are on-stage and each and every scene we are in as those characters only get to live in that moment and you never know how long that will last. It continues to amaze me how much the “rules” of improv can and do apply to life.

Think about it…if we all lived our life to the tenants of improv, it would probably be a lot better or at least less stressful: just have fun, there are no mistakes, be true to your character (self) and just exist in your environment and just enjoy your time and don’t be in a rush to get to something better.

We’re in the mix with the Harold in class and we keep being told to not get in our heads over the format and have fun. I’m happy to say that most of the time I feel like I’m just having a good time and just playing with my friends. That’s not to say there’s not that nagging voice still in the back of my head worried about messing up the format or saying I have no idea what I’m doing, but it’s not nearly as loud as it used to be.

And last, but certainly not least, my level 4 classmates and I have a show coming up in a few weeks to celebrate the end of level 4. Let this serve as a heads up for all who read this to save the date: Monday, August 20th at 7 pm. It’s free and a nice chance to come and support all of us who are doing our first Harold in front of an audience. I hope to see you there!