Spark

I ask one of my most favorite people on the planet (who’s 10): how are you? She writes back one word: fabtabulishis. That word tickles me and I carry it around in my head for days, whispering it to myself over and over, chewing on the dip and sway of the sounds.

There is a vast difference between our ages but not our hearts or humor.

When you spark with someone, you just spark.

Good Scene Partners Come in All Shapes & Sizes

I hadn’t seen my four- and two-year-old cousins in a whole big year. To them it’s as if I'd simply fallen off the planet. They forgot that I’m their ‘fun’ cousin, that I’m a moofy-goofy and know how to play. They kinda forgot that they’re crazy about me. That’s okay.

So I see them in July.

I ask Rena (five-years old) what her favorite color is and with utter joy she chirps, “pink!” I ask Chana (three-years old) and she states very matter-of-factly, “orange.” Then Rena asks my favorite color. I say “blue!” And immediately Rena says, “I like blue too!” Chana chimes in, “I like blue too!” And then they are hopping up and down, laughing and chanting, “I like whatever color you like!” and jump on my lap.

(An entire year has gone by and yet we find each other so quickly, so easily. Sigh… If only it was this simple with grown-ups.)

These young ponies like whatever color I like because they want to connect. It’s sooooo not fancy. Or complicated. Or high-tech. This brief moment reminds me of what it’s like to have good scene partners.

Generous and fun scene partners are people who will like whatever color you like. Who will find all kinds of ways to stretch and reach and bend in order to connect. There’s a generosity of spirit that is contagious. Eric—one of my favorite scene partners—is full of whimsy and mischief and also likes whatever color I like, no matter what happens in a scene.

About improv: You travel into the unknown, willing, open, and root around to see what you'll find. It’s a moment-to-moment-experience. People tend to think improv is about being funny. Yet it’s not. It’s truly about listening to your scene partner, finding out what color he or she likes and then chirping, hopping, jumping and squealing about liking that color too. FYI—improv can also be quiet and subtle.

To Reverse or Not to Reverse? That is the Question

My friends R and M have a Saab convertible that is older, funky and can’t really shift into reverse all that well. (Sounds a lot like some folks I know plus a dog or two.)

Last night R and I ran an errand in the Saab and while she was able to back out of the driveway, it was the only time we used the reverse gear.

I don’t usually think about how often I go backwards in a car. Do you?

Our field trip became an exercise in how to accomplish our mission without ever having to back up. It was a fun challenge and I noticed that driving to FedEx and stopping for a little dessert took on a whole new flavor as a result of the ‘reverse restriction.’

Do you remember those games we played as kids that involved passing an orange without using our hands? Or other games that involved special circumstances? Limits were imposed, rules were invented. We had to figure out how to do something in non-habitual ways.

One of my favorite improv exercises is acting out a scene without using your hands. People get very creative. I’ve watched houses being built with elbows, eyebrows, behinds. I’ve watched cooking shows where gourmet chefs whipped up delicious treats with their feet. And I myself have done some of my best imaginary surgery using my nose, mouth and chin.

As improvisers we learn how to incorporate quirky things (like not being able to use the reverse gear) and find ways to make the situation, the scene, the circumstances work.

Tweaking one simple variable in the landscape can create all kinds of challenges and changes. Do you tweak? How do you view the unexpected, the obstacles?