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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Bricks, Basketballs and Tadpoles

It's one of those weeks where I'm doing so many different things that my head hurts. Writing about chiropractors? Check. Designing improv-y graphics? Check. Prepping to teach class this weekend? Check. Programming FB pages? Check. Editing video? Check. Updating websites? Check.

For the love of ponies, people, that is a LOT of different things. And all of them are time sensitive, so I'm moving from one thing to another and back as quickly as I can, which means I have to switch gears instantly to be fully focused on each new thing.

Good thing I take improv classes. I know, I know. That was too obvious a leap to be interesting, but that's what I've got today. Take it or leave it.

Sometimes in improv, you start a scene doing spacework that involves laying bricks, only to discover your partner is shooting basketballs. Some way or another, you have to make those things work, which means you have to instantly let go of your idea and accept a new one. It happens all the time - I mean, really, what are the odds that, based on a suggestion like tadpoles, you and your partner are going to have the exact same idea at the exact same time? Pretty small.

But in improv, you learn to make those adjustments, until finally you make them so seamlessly that the audience really thinks you both started out on exactly the same page. Neither of you is still focused on that other thing you might've done, because you're both fully committed to this thing you're doing now.

It's a good skill to learn if you're going to be, you know, alive. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to turn ALL of my attention to napping.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, January 30, 2012

I'm Out in the Pasture Milking Bees

Last night, Richard and I milked some bees for honey. I wasn't even aware that bees required milking, but you learn a lot of interesting stuff doing improv.

One of the most important things you learn doing improv is not to discount others' ideas. Or your own, for that matter. If one of you says you are milking bees for honey, you find a way to go along with that and make it important. You can talk about their tiny udders, or comment on this new bee hybrid that produces milk and honey or explain how one endeavors to milk bees without getting stung. Whatever it is, you work together and go with it.

It's Monday and I've got a lot work to do on very little sleep, so I won't torture you with a long drawn-out post. Suffice it to say, in real life, it's also good not to discount others' ideas. If somebody had pooh-pooh'd the ideas of pieces of paper with not-very-sticky-adhesive on one side, or little tiny silicone chips that could calculate stuff, or distilling potatoes, we wouldn't have Post-its or computers or vodka, and I for one would have a very difficult time getting through my day.

So learn to accept out-of-the-box ideas... and add your own unique contributions as well. And pretty soon, we'll be making ships that fly into outer space, electronic book-reading-devices and telephones that you can carry around with you.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Albino Aliens AGAIN?!?

So tonight in the Held2gether Improv Comedy Level 2 class (which is a mouthful but really just means "intermediate"), we're going to be justifying stuff. Which really just means "making shit make sense."

Sometimes in an improv scene, what comes out of your mouth may not make sense. It's weird how, in real life, you can have perfectly normal conversations with people - conversations that you have NOT rehearsed, by the way - and you don't start talking about albino aliens giving birth to grasshoppers in nests made of moss. I mean, that almost never happens when I'm speaking to people in real life.

But something happens to people in improv scenes that occasionally makes crazy information come tumbling out of their mouths. Maybe they get nervous, or they didn't really listen to what their scene partner just said so they don't know how to respond, or the audience suggestion threw them for a loop. Who knows, maybe they just watched too much Star Trek and they have aliens on the brain. In any event, it happens. And it's important to know what to do when it does.

First and foremost: DO NOT PANIC. Trust me, panic will just lead you further down the road to Crazyville. Instead, take a breath and a moment to think about the loopy information that just came out. Then justify it. WHY did you just tell your scene partner this information? HOW does it relate to anything that's happened previously in the scene? If you have a reason for saying something, you can say pretty much anything. But you need to spell it out for your scene partner and the audience, otherwise we just assume you've been hitting the hooch. Again.

Of course, it's helpful to pretend in improv scenes that you are an actual human having an actual conversation with another actual human, in which case bizarro information about grasshopper alien births will probably not come out. But sometimes, it's just hard to pretend you're an actual human. So the justifying thing comes in handy.

You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, January 23, 2012

Improv Tip: Emotion = Motion

Do you ever wonder why Darren harps about emotion and commitment so much? It's not some deep psychological issue he has about sharing feelings or anything. It's actually quite logical.

I know, weird, right?

In improv, you have 3 minutes to tell a complete story with a beginning, middle, end, relationships, the whole friggin' nine yards. And you have to come up with all that based on some random suggestion like pineapple.

There isn't time for the story to build slowly, like in a novel. So if you just start with some spacework and no emotion, the audience and your scene partner have to wait until you speak to have any idea of what your character's state of mind is. That's precious seconds wasted. On the other hand, if you start with some spacework and some anger, we don't have to wait for your words to tell us what you're feeling, and your partner can make an immediate choice - either she is the reason you're angry, or she's angry along with you. Any emotion works, as long as it's big and clear and you're committed to it.

Here's an easy way to remember why emotion is important: emotion = motion. You can't move the scene forward if you're neutral, just like your car can't move if it's in neutral. It's, like, science and stuff.

Anyway, as much as I want to believe that my strengths (information/justification) are the most important skills in improv, the truth is, without emotion and commitment there's no reason for any of the rest of it. So I'll just say it: Darren's right.

Wow. That was even more painful than I thought it would be.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Thursday, January 19, 2012

If There Weren't Rules, It Wouldn't Be a Game!

Do you ever sit around and think, "Jeez, I wish there weren't rules in baseball. Then it'd be awesome."

Um, no. Nobody thinks that.

You have to have rules in order to have any kind of game. Otherwise, you just have a bunch of people doing some stuff. And, oh boy, is that ever fun. Not.

But with rules, you have a structure. You have clear objectives and accepted methods for achieving those objectives. The players know what to do and how to support their teammates, and the audience knows what to root for.

It's the same with improv. If there weren't rules, you'd just have a bunch of people saying some stuff, which is even more boring than a bunch of people doing some stuff. It's the rules that give the players a framework in which to create.

Within the framework, of course, you have to remain flexible and let go of your agenda. In baseball, you have to be ready for a bunt, for example. In improv, you have to be ready for your scene partner to label you his niece, or a bag lady or an astronaut. In fact, I'd argue (and I can be very argumentative - just ask Darren) that what makes a team of any type successful is its ability to be flexible within the structure of the game. Going with the flow, adapting, changing course and adjusting in the moment are skills that apply equally well to sports and improv.

And to real life, duh. I haven't made an improv = real life analogy for a while, and I think it's high time. Life has rules, peeps. You can't cut in line at the grocery store. You have to drive on the right side of the street. You have to show up at work, more or less on time. It's those rules of society that keep chaos from ensuing. But within that framework, you are free to improvise. In fact, we encourage you to do so! Go to a different grocery store - or just buy all different food than you normally would. Take a detour on your way home. Look for work that actually inspires you so you want to show up on time.

Then, try to apply the rules of improv and see how much more fun that makes the Game of Life. Agree with people. Add your own information and contributions. Commit and really be in the moment.

Seriously, it's more fun than watching baseball.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Restore Your Faith In Humanity: Take an Improv Class

I'm in a mood. Which is fine for today because I'm doing the "I'm a freelance writer and I don't have to talk to anyone about anything" thing. But by 7 p.m., I have to be ready to do the "I'm excited to have human interaction" thing because that's when long form improv class starts.

One of the reasons I started taking improv classes in the first place was to overcome shyness. But even more than that, I had become sort of a hermit. I would do my best to avoid humans if at all possible, and since I work alone at home it wasn't too hard to go days on end without having a conversation that consisted of anything more than, "Cheeseburger, no onions, fries and a lemonade." Oh, okay, sometimes it was two orders of fries.

I honestly didn't know what to expect in an improv class, but I had the very strong notion that I had to go. I didn't know anyone in the class (hermits don't know very many people), and I'd had a shitty day before my first class started. But I felt this overwhelming sense of relief when I walked into the Rec Park social hall, and I remember thinking, "These are my people," as if I'd finally landed on my home planet after spending ages wandering the galaxy.

Of course, I learned a bazillion different skills involving communication, listening, agreeing, accepting, committing and the like. But the most important thing I learned was that groups of people could get together and support one another totally without judgment. I don't know about you, but I wasn't even aware that was possible.

And it wasn't just that there was something mystical and magical about that particular group of people; I've seen it over and over and over and over in H2G improv classes, and new students are always commenting on it. It sounds silly and sappy, but improv completely restored my faith in humanity.

So now, I occasionally have a day like today where I'm a little cranky and my natural defense mechanism is to hermit myself in my house. But the prospect of doing improv later reminds me of everything there is to love about people, and the hermit instinct fades quickly. And by 7, I'll be anxious to see my classmates and play games and struggle and laugh with them.

Wouldn't the world be an awesome place if everyone did improv?

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, January 16, 2012

But What's In Your Hands?!?

One thing I've noticed about different improv schools is that they seem to have differing opinions about the importance of spacework. I suppose an argument can be made for each opinion, but the only argument that's worth explaining here is mine.

Don't pretend to be surprised. You know that's how I roll.

First of all, let me just define "spacework" for you once again: It is using your hands to create and manipulate objects that don't really exist. You could be brushing your teeth, or doing open heart surgery or fixing a watch or literally any activity that people do in real life - except without the actual objects.

Dancing isn't spacework unless you're holding a drink or texting or writing a guy's number on your hand or passing out your business cards at the same time. You know, like you normally do when you're out dancing.

The reason spacework is so important in improv is because we don't have props or sets to help set the scene for the audience. They have to imagine everything, and that's a lot of work. If you expect them to also laugh, then you gotta help 'em out by giving them as much information as possible.

Doing spacework defines your location. When you're flipping pancakes, we can now imagine a stove. If your scene partner pours a cup of coffee, we can see the cupboard that the mug came from and the coffee pot. If you open the fridge to get some OJ, we know more about your kitchen.

Doing spacework also grounds you in the scene. It gives you a reason for being where you are, otherwise your scene could theoretically be taking place anywhere. Not only that, but if you aren't doing spacework you are just two people talking.

FYI, two people talking is not much of a spectator sport.

Doing spacework also gives you a starting point for dialogue. Naturally, we don't want to hear two people talk about flipping pancakes for 3 minutes (see "spectator sport" above). However, if one of you says something like, "Dammit, Maureen, you know I hate it when you flip the pancakes way up in the air. There's still batter stuck on the ceiling from the last time we had pancakes," we have already gotten to something about your relationship.

Okay, I hope that's cleared up the subject of spacework and why Held2gether improv classes teach the proper use of spacework as compared to, say, everywhere else. You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Friday, January 13, 2012

Simple Improv

See if you can figure out what's wrong with this sentence: Last night I effed up a simple 2-person alphabet scene.

Nope. "Effed up" is the past-tense of "eff up," and it is used correctly in this sentence. I know these things; I'm a writer.

What's wrong is that I referred to an improv scene as "simple." Doh! I should really know better by now.

Nothing about improv is simple. It's deceptive because the basic rules of improv seem incredibly simple:
  1. Listen
  2. Agree
  3. Add information
  4. Commit
BFD, right? But just as a social experiment, try going through your day, adhering to those "simple" rules.
  • Really listen to every person you encounter.
  • Agree with people.
  • Contribute your own ideas.
  • Be present and fully engaged in every encounter and activity.
Yeah, good luck with that.

Do you even remember how to listen without thinking about your rebuttal, or how you're going to one-up this story, or wondering why the heck this person is talking to you in the first place?

Agree? Pshaw. We are so conditioned to say no, can't and but that we don't even notice how negative we are.

Because we are so quick to shoot down every idea (see ↑↑), many of us have gotten unused to offering our own ideas and suggestions. Some of us have even forgotten how to have ideas, because it's been so long since anyone accepted them.

In real life, we multitask all the time. No matter what we're doing, we're also scrolling through our minds, thinking about what we have to do next, what we need from the grocery store, what we're going to wear to the wedding tomorrow; we're updating our FB status or playing Mafia Wars or texting or doing our nails or looking at the cute guy across the restaurant. We are usually not fully present and focused on the task or person at hand.

The good news is, improv teaches you how to do all those things in a way that feels like you're just playing silly games with some hilarious, sweet, supportive people. And soon the skills of listening, agreeing, contributing and being present start to trickle into your real life, and the rewards are nothing short of amazing.

It's simple, really.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

You Gotta Play This Game With Fear and Arrogance

Did you ever see that movie Bull Durham? It's a good movie, actually, even if you're not a huge fan of baseball. And there's a line from the movie that I think applies equally to improv as well as baseball. Crash is giving his last bits of wisdom to Nuke before Nuke heads off to "the Show" and he says,
You gotta play this game with fear and arrogance.
Okay, okay, don't overthink this! Gimme a sec and I'll explain.

I'm not encouraging you to be more scared of improv than you already are. And I'm not suggesting you swagger onstage and bluster about cockily, either.

Actually, we don't want you to be afraid at all. That's what's awesome about improv is that it helps you face your fears, on stage and in real life, whatever that is for you. But "playing the game with fear" to me means, always being aware that there's more you don't know. Every time I start feeling comfortable in improv and thinking, "Hey, you know what? I got this!" something unpleasant happens to remind me the very nature of improv is you can never predict all that could happen. [Note: by "unpleasant" I mean I screw up a scene or game or class royally because I thought I knew it all. Nothing seriously unpleasant like, say, being hit by a meteor has ever happened.] But when I keep in mind that doing improv is playing on the edge and I stay humble (because way better improvisors than I have bombed even worse), it keeps my senses sharper and more in the moment. And of course, that's when you do great improv.

The other part, playing the game with arrogance means to go out there and own it, whatever you do. Be big and bold! Make brave choices! Make an important discovery, do some unusual spacework, have a huge emotional reaction... whatever it is, know you are doing it better than anyone else could possibly do it in this particular moment.

In Held2gether improv classes, I see people go through phases where they are totally in sync with this whole "fear and arrogance" thing, and it's awesome to watch. Of course, the reality is, sometimes people go through phases where they get the arrogance and fear reversed, and then it's a bit of a struggle until they reach another upturn on the learning zig-zag. But wherever you are on that learning zig-zag, you won't find a more encouraging group of people to zig and zag with.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Improv Characters & Playing Pretend

I may have mentioned this once or 3,000 times, but my weakness in improv is characters. I'm pretty good with agreement, I can add information with the best of them, but committing to a character is a constant challenge. That's where improv wanders into the realm of acting, and I am not so comfortable in that realm.

My friend and troupe-y Paul broke it down for me like this: acting = playing pretend. Believe it or not, that helped. I know; lends credence to the "natural blonde" theory, right?

Having characters in improv actually goes a little beyond, "Hey! I'ma pretend I'm a hoity-toity English woman and talk with an unidentifiable but snooty accent!" First of all, accents in and of themselves do not a character make. What really makes a character a character is a strong point of view and a specific want in this scene.

It's tricky! Being a kindergarten teacher is not really a character by itself. But if you approach life with the point of view of a kindergarten teacher - relentlessly cheery, über-encouraging, explain everything to people in mind-numbing detail, suggest cranky people need a time-out - now we're getting somewhere. What this character wants in any given scene could vary, but how he/she goes about attempting to get it will come from this kindergarten-teacher-point-of-view, and it won't be the same as how a jaded former beauty queen or a lying politician would go about it.

A physical trait like a limp or a nervous cough or hair-twirling helps define the character, and using different voices and postures is also important. But if I stand on stage and nervously cough and speak in a deep voice, but everything I say is my personal point of view, that's not a character. That's just Sonnjea with a cold.

And guess what? If I have a strong egomaniacal, delusions of grandeur point of view, but I stand and speak and gesture like myself (Sonnjea hands!), that's not a character either. Not only that, but it makes it hard for the audience to know who I am from scene to scene - if I always appear the same, they have to wait for me to speak to know which character I am this time. So you have to pretend physical traits and point of view to create a complete character.

The good news is, playing pretend is totally fun, and improv class is about the only place grown-ups can play pretend without being looked at askance. Come take a class with us! I'll be the character who uses askance in a sentence.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, January 9, 2012

Improv Theory

"But Sonnjea, why do I have to learn about improv theories, anyway? Can't I just learn everything in my H2G improv class?"

Well, I'ma tell you.

You can absolutely learn everything you need to learn about doing improv in your Held2gether improv class. Darren designed them to be that way, after all.

But in an experiential class like improv, there isn't a lot of time for lecture or Q & A, unfortunately. And sometimes understanding the why or how behind something is helpful. Why can't we go for the joke? How will this help me in dealing with my boss? Why can't we ask questions? How does letting go of my agenda help in real life? Why do we have to agree? How come there aren't more blondes in improv?

Anyway, that's why I write these silly essays... to explain the why's and how's behind the what. Of course, you can always ask the why or how in class, and we encourage you to do so. But if you're like me, you might think of these questions at 2 in the morning and, nice as he is, Darren doesn't appreciate getting calls at that hour to say, "Dude, I'm hilarious. Why can't I go for the joke in an improv scene?" And sometimes in class, there's only time to give a brief explanation; in these blogs, I have the luxury of being able to go more in-depth. "Babbling" is a term I've heard as well.

Also, I sometimes write blogs about going on my roof in the rain or about Viet's abs or about chickens. You're not gonna get that in class.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Friday, January 6, 2012

Mission Possible: Good Improv Is Funnier Than Kitteh

I was so happy when I saw this yesterday, because it validates my belief, and you know how much I enjoy being right.
It is easy to become deluded by the audience, because they laugh.
Del Close said that. He's kind of the grandfather of improv, and was one of the founders of UCB and 2nd City, as well as the guy who invented the Harold, which is a type of long form improv.

So if you don't want to believe me, maybe you can believe Del.

See, the thing is, the audience doesn't know the rules of improv. They just know what makes them laugh. And laughing is great. I mean, I don't know about you, but I'll take laughing over weeping any day. BUT - and this is a big but - people will laugh at many things that are not improv. I'm just sayin'. Those kitteh photos? Funny! Not improv! Your brother-in-law? Funny! Not improv! This blog? Um, never mind. You get my point.

Some students and performers forget that the mission is to do improv, and they take the audience's laughter as positive reinforcement for whatever it was they said or did that got the laugh. This leads to all sorts of improv-y badness, like going for the joke, not letting your scene partner in, going for the joke and, um, going for the joke. H2G did a show a while back that made me cringe - not because it wasn't funny; it was hilarious. It just wasn't good improv. Luckily, Darren is a strong and objective teacher/director, and after he tells everyone what they were brilliant at, he explains why the things that weren't improv, weren't improv. And then in class and rehearsal, we work on doing the best improv we can do.

Because ultimately, the audience laughs harder and claps louder and yells and hoots and hollers even more when they see good improv. People laugh when you go for the joke, because they see it coming and they like to be validated (see, it's not just me). But they laugh more when you create something they could not see coming and couldn't even imagine being able to come up with.

So the moral of this story is, don't try to make people laugh. That's what your friend who's always "on," or stand-up comics, or drunk people in bars do. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to play by the rules of improv and trust that the LMAO hilarity will ensue naturally. Good luck! This blog will self-destruct in 30 seconds.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Improv and Autocorrect Fail

Have you seen those hilarious iPhone autocorrect texts*? You know, the ones where someone offers to bring over "cold hermaphrodites" when what they tried to type was "cold Heinekens," or incredibly awkward conversations occur with parents or SO's?

So far, I haven't had a majorly embarrassing cellphone incident, but I know it's just a matter of time. I have an HTC Incredible, which is short for Incredibly Horrible. It has an annoying habit of re-routing my texts. Oddly, many of the re-directs of my texts end up going to Andy, Co-Dependent. He's received passwords for bank accounts, grocery lists and once, when I actually was texting him on the way to meeting him at a wine tasting, the phone sent the same message 11 times. He logically assumed I'd started drinking without him.

Which is probably what you've assumed right about now. But this does relate to improv, I swear. At least, in my mind it relates. Your experience may vary.

Sometimes in improv scenes, your brain gets mixed up, and the wires get crossed and what you think you're saying isn't what you're saying at all. You might give your scene partner a name and then, in an attempt to add more information, say that you've enjoyed spending the afternoon with them because they always make manboobs better. Of course, you know you meant to say Mondays. But you said manboobs, and now you're both stuck with manboobs.

Not literally, of course.

In an autocorrect fail situation, you can type OMG, LMAO, WTF and (hopefully) type what you really meant. In an improv scene, you can't. All you and your partner can do is stay calm and present, and justify the mistake. You can't ignore it; trust me, the audience hears it when you say "manboobs." So maybe your partner says, "I know you've been feeling really insecure about your manboobs lately, but to tell you the truth, I find them incredibly sexy." Ewww. Or you say, "Nobody else understands the pain of having manboobs, except you because you have them too. We're kindred spirits." Amazingly enough, you now have a scene that's about your relationship, whatever it may be, and it's all because your brain misfired and you stayed calm and justified it.

Naturally, we teach all about staying calm and in the moment and justifying in Held2gether improv classes. Which is good, because you'll probably need those skills for when you accidentally text your boss that you got a great deal at Staples on penis.

Oh, and if you get a text from me expressing my undying love and commenting inappropriately on random body parts, ignore it. It's for Viet. Thanks.

*NOT family friendly. And thanks to Nate for sharing.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Fruitcake, Vodka and Improv: Welcome to My World

Welcome back to H2G's amazing, world-famous Long Beach improv classes, my friends. I hope the break wasn't too traumatic, and I hope you've made peace with the amount of fruitcake and vodka you consumed.

Oh, right, like I'm the only one who did that. Pshaw.

I have mixed feelings about classes starting again. On the one hand, I live for improv, so I suppose you could say I'm "happy." On the other hand... Oh, who am I kidding? I don't have mixed feelings at all. In my perfect world scenario, I would do improv 5 times a week, and there wouldn't be this annoying anxious feeling in my stomach after a long break because there wouldn't be a long break.

Nevertheless, the break happened and my stomach hurts. Not as much as Andy, Co-Dependent's hurts, but that's a whole other story. I don't get nervous before a show, but I get nervous about a new class. Weird, right? But I have a theory about that, and I'm gonna share it with you because, you know, I really love my theories.

See, in class, I'm nervous because I know I'm going to try things I'm not so good at. And I know I'm not always going to succeed. And, like most normal Americans, I don't like that whole not succeeding thing. In fact, it pretty much sucks.

But I'm not nervous about performing because I know I'm going to give it my best, play to my strengths and have a great time with my troupemates. By the time a show rolls around, my mind has settled down into "I'm going to do the best I possibly can, and that's all anybody can do," and I somehow trust that and don't get nervous.

Why I can't adapt that thought to class is anybody's guess. I'm gonna eat another piece of fruitcake and ponder it for a while. In the meantime, don't worry about it if you're nervous for the start of another (or your very first) improv class - it just means you're willing to try something that's out of your comfort zone, and that's the best way I know to start a new year! Yay you!

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Monday, January 2, 2012

Can't Remember if You Showered? Try Long Form Improv!

Do you ever forget if you've eaten breakfast today? Or showered this week? Or is that just me? I'm just sayin', there's a lot of stuff going on in any given day, and sometimes it's hard to keep track of it all.

Anyway, it's kinda the same thing with improv: there's a lot going on, but there are certain things you want to address as early as possible in a scene. Names, relationships, what you're doing, where you are, why today is the big day - leaving out one of these things can make a scene flounder. Leaving out more than one can make a scene painful.

It's even trickier in long form, where you're not just remembering your little 3-minute scene! You have to remember the names of dozens of characters, multiple story lines, a myriad of relationships and keep it all straight so you don't deny information that's been set up or mix up your stories or characters - which would confuse the heck out of the audience as well as the rest of the players.

It sounds hard, and it is, at first. But as with anything, it gets easier with practice. Oh, and lots and lots of excellent instruction. There are different types of long form improv; at Held2gether, we teach and perform the "clap-in" method, which essentially starts with 3 separate 2- or 3-person scenes based on audience suggestions. After the 3rd beginning scene, any player can clap to end the current scene and initiate a new one, and then the stories come to life as the characters move backward and forward in time to add information to the storylines, justify things that have happened or tell related "analogous" stories.

It's incredibly fun, and it helps with skills like working together as one big, happy team, improving memory and really, really listening. Long form class starts a week from Wednesday. Some improv experience is required; if you're not sure you have enough experience, just email the boss to find out!

By Sonnjea Blackwell