Improv

Looks like I’m gonna need to find a place to shit. Being in the city never permits for a convenent time to do that. The bathrooms are either too small or non existent.

I’m at the field in Cambridge waiting for my improv show. The call time is an hour before hand, which I’ve never figured out. It’s improv. I want to go right on, off the cuff, in the moment. Preparation makes me uncomfortable.

When the curtain goes up, I want to be in the moment. In preparation, I’m listening to the Doors. If cleansing my perception where easy, I’d be in a constant state of improv and probably a lot happier.

It maybe my last show for a while. My group has dissolved and I’ve moved onto some film projects, only time will tell.

Off to find a bathroom. . .

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