In 2011 I took a running leap of a big cliff.
Or at least that's how it felt.
And I'm still here to talk about it.
For years I'd watched from the audience and ruminated on the subject -- but I was terrified to try improv. My friends were sick of hearing it. "I want to try improv, I want to try improv." But improv was for the terribly quick, much brighter, much more talented, much braver performers than I. Finally, a few months ago I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and jumped.
From the time I could walk and talk all I ever wanted to do was act. I love good writing -- really good writing. I revel in great words -- words meant to be spoken -- rhythm and pacing, sentences and paragraphs arranged like great architecture. I love Sondheim and Sorkin and Mamet-- and I'd pretty much sacrifice one of my lesser used limbs to have a chance to work with their words.
But I've also become afraid of my own inner voice. Afraid I don't have enough to offer when I get the scripts in my hand. Also, after years spent as a producer, crafting and honing visions that belong to other people, I've kind of lost site of my own.
So I jumped. And what do you know -- I landed safely in the company of the funniest, nicest most welcoming band of characters I could imagine. And I'm still scared. But I'm having more and more fun every week.
2011 was about jumping off the cliff. And I did. And I didn't die. So, that's good. Right? Right.
2012 is about taking chances, being brave, learning a craft, relocating that inner voice and having fun. Lots and lots of fun.
Come down and see us sometime.
