All righty, magic it is. A couple weeks ago, Nate posted a picture on my FB wall of a witch on a broomstick with the caption, "Fuck you. I'm magic." Ignoring the part where he may have been implying I'm a witch, I chose to focus on the magic part.
As far as improv scenes go, it's never a good idea to invoke magic. It's kinda like playing drunk or crazy - if you're magic, nothing really matters because you can just fix anything or change the scene to suit your needs or whatever you want. So while, "Fuck you. I'm magic," is perhaps the awesomest way of denying someone EVER, it's still either a denial or at the very least a label that won't lead to having stakes or a big "what" in your scene.
However, in terms of improv attitude, "Fuck you. I'm magic," is about the best one you could possibly adopt. When the fears and insecurities and crises of confidence come up, you can give in to them. You can be nervous and afraid to go onstage. You can get all heady and freeze. You can rely on jokes and sarcasm, and incur my wrath in the process. Or you can acknowledge the fears and insecurities and crises of confidence and then tell them all, "Fuck you. I'm magic."
Cause ya know what? You are. Here's the definition of magic I found on the internet (so it must be accurate).
mag·icThat's what we do when we do an improv scene - we influence the course of events in our scene using nothing but our imagination, which is pretty mysterious if you ask me.
/ˈmajik/
Noun
The power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.
If you believe you're magic, then you are. I'm totally magic, duh. If you want to believe it but aren't sure how, take improv classes. Seriously, creating something from nothing time and time again will convince you that we're ALL magic just waiting to happen.
By Sonnjea Blackwell
