In Acting II, today, we began by reciting, “This is me. Here I am.” Now, this might sound simplistic. But there are as many ways to utter this as there are types of people.
After beginning with those lines, I managed to deliver my entire monologue from Arthur Miller’s play, All My Sons, without lapsing into a crying jag! Woo-hoo! To be safe, though, I had my tissues handy.
One of my classmates walked into class flying a banner of toilet paper like an aerial advertisement. I could practically hear her saying, “Poo paper for the bawlers.” So I was determined to not be one.
There is an infectious mood, a somber atmosphere that seems to inhabit the room when we perform these monologues. I can’t explain it. At least three times, while listening to others, I grew misty-eyed. Is this normal?
I used to think that acting was all about putting on masks and becoming someone else. But I’m beginning to see that it’s more about taking off masks and just being yourself.
Oh, so you mean I can’t just laugh at every uncomfortable feeling I’m having? You want me to genuinely feel and express my emotions? And you want me to do what? Let a room full of strangers see and hear and feel along with me, experience my pain, loss, desire, love, confusion, rage, etc.? Whoa. This is going to be much harder than I’d imagined.