As I grow a work that’s entirely improvised, I’m coming up against the biggest challenge; myself, and my tendency towards comfort. I am not, as a person, a big risk taker. I’m also a Taurus – take or leave that, depending on your opinion of astrology.
I find myself in creative loops when improvising, often. Last week was a real moment of being stuck in them, which I think was due to being ill, and not feeling very creative. But it’s difficult to push back the pressure you put on yourself to keep moving when nothing comes. It frightens me, the idea of inviting people to see me perform and then not having any movement to share; losing all instinct, losing any impetus. Losing losing losing.
How do we avoid creative loops when improvising? How do we not allow our minds to run off and our bodies to run back? How can I always be finding something new, and therefore sharing something exciting or interesting or feeling-full, with the audience who watches me?
With the caretakers, it’s becoming apparent this is formed by giving myself an incredibly rigid structure, and very specific tasks. These can be broken, always, but they are my starting point, and with them comes a set of emotions, memories or ideas that drive that particular moment in the work. I’ll share more on this another time.
I think it’s also about accepting stillness as moving. I talk a lot when I facilitate as breathing as a movement – as a way of coalescing with your surroundings, and in turn becoming part of the earth. One living breathing organism. For some reason I don’t apply this as one of my own rules.
I want to work on not moving for the entertainment of others. I want to move with so much honesty it’s just like having a conversation. We understand one another, completely, fully, deeply. I want this to be my most important rule.