Last night, my inner thespian got loose and terrorized a room full of people. For the first time in five years, I stood up in front of people — albeit five people — and performed a monologue.
And I enjoyed it.
I’m almost ashamed to admit that, at the end of long years of theatrical training and studies at the University of British Columbia, I have done nothing — absolutely nothing — in front of an audience. That is, unless you count that incident where I drank too much sake at a karaoke club and tried to demonstrate my abilities as a lounge singer. I really hope that doesn’t count.
Not only have I not been on stage, but I also haven’t hung a light, raised a flat, or built a riser. I haven’t been backstage or on a catwalk, and the closest thing to a fly gallery I’ve seen was at a sushi stand in the West End.
I have been extremely negligent. While I’ve never claimed (or demonstrated) any strong acting abilities, it used to be the focus of my life, second only to beer.
So there I was, doing a monologue for the first time since graduation. The audience was a group called Ready or Not that meets weekly to be all artsy and stuff. You know — actors, musicians, writers, et cetera — all being wacky and trying out new material on real, live people. It’s a wonderful idea. I think everyone should try it.
Call up a few friends. Find a song. Pick up that guitar. Choose a monologue. Scratch out some words on paper. Have fun and share some of that repressed creativity.