Today I have learned how to combine silly sounds with pointless gestures—all, of course, in fluid form. I have also discovered how to cross a room, repeatedly, while dodging 18 or so other men and women who seem intent on vying for my space. I have breathed while making eye contact, at close range, with strangers. And I have stretched my body and then let it become small (or at least, as small as I can shrink a size 12).
After being asked to, off the cuff, recite some verse or prose, being the learned writer that I am, I came up with, “I promise to love God and my country, to help people everywhere, especially those at home.” What was that? My Girl Scout oath? I don’t even know where that came from! Obviously, I didn’t want to use this. So eventually I managed to pull a rabbit out of my hat—almost literally. I recited a quote from The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams.
So far, other than the spontaneous recitation, it feels like I’m back in kindergarten. However, my first homework assignment is to pore over several classic American plays and find a monologue that is “most like me.” I will then have to memorize and perform these lines before the class. I feel like Mary Katherine Gallagher. “My feelings could best be expressed in a monologue . . .” J