I stumbled upon a new notion the last 24 hours. The Idea is this: What if I took improv classes in a foreign city?
Seems simple, yes. But I feel as exuberant about the idea as the first European explorers must have felt when they realized Native Americans had no fire arms and the entire Western Hemisphere was theirs for the taking.
So: What about an improv intensive in Chicago? Toronto? London? L.A.? Yep. Yep. Yep. The only thing I need to be wary of is finding a good theatre to go to, there are plenty of really crummy theatres out there. But, I'd be killing many, many birds with one massive Gibraltar-sized rock: I'd be traveling, meeting new people, experiencing different teaching forms, and getting to know a city I could potentially move to that much better, and claim the ultimate bad-assery of being an improviser who has experience in other cities. WINNING.
Ah, but the caviot: Money. The green-backs. The oolah moolah. Especially in London... Whew! OK, so I'll save the cash. I'll scrimp, and nickle and dime, and hoard. "Here hapless Natives: take these nice blankets and I'll take all your lands as you die from disease..." Alright, I won't be that barbaric, but I definitely feel like a conqueror at the moment: and the New World is beckoning.
It's amazing to think that the planet doesn't drop off after the South Ferry station on the last stop off the 1 train at the tip of Manhattan.
I'm inspired. I'll just need to keep the girly wiggles going and wriggle my toes when I start to get impatient. The World! The Entire World! I'm 24! I'm a full day's worth of years! I'll live that full day! To the masts! Man your posts! Set Sail!
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