Sisyphus

Recently some shows I've done have felt like a lot of work, unpleasantly so.  People not on the same page, at different energies, with divergent points of view coming together like pieces from random puzzles. I've felt I have had to expend a disproportionate amount of effort to clarify a scene or make it work or help move a piece forward. It's also felt like a struggle to have fun. I've spent so much energy trying to do my part in holding a show together I forget to have a good time. It's a bad feeling and relatively mystifying considering it's all pretend and we're all doing it for free. It's frustrating. Feeling like this thing that is suppose to be fun and funny and energetic is an absolute struggle.

When improv works it feels great and its effortless. When it doesn't work its like Sisyphus. Expending all  energy, exerting all will, to move something that cannot be moved. Fruitless, desperate, futile.

But after talking to Craig and reflecting on it a bit I think it's more of a mental hole I've gotten myself into. The only thing I'm in control of is myself, in improv as in all things I am the arbiter of my own fate. I can have fun regardless of the audience or the differing ideas or opinions of the people I'm playing with. Ideally there is the idea of group mind and support tying all the players together but that's not always the case. Sometimes people are in funks, sometimes people have styles that aren't compatible. That's all ok. I'm responsible only for my own happiness, my own enjoyment. If a piece works or if a scene work is not under my control.

There's also pleasure that can be derived from the struggle. From exerting effort. From doing the work. As a performer it's naive to believe it's always going to be great easy shows, sunshine, rainbows, and unicorn ice-cream. Every opportunity has it's problems, every gig it's price. Life is a struggle. Art imitates life. Ups and downs, peaks and valleys. All you can do is keep doing.

Try again, fail again, fail better. Rinse. Repeat.