Having extended time off from class for a holiday allowed me time to find the right monologue to bring to the next class. I thought long and hard about everything Mark had been teaching me and decided to challenge myself with a piece.

I'm unsure if I am alone in this, but dramatic or sad scenes come more naturally to me. I believe it is easier for me to perform those scenes because the audience relates more easily to traumatic events that often happen in real life because certain moments are generally thought of as sad or difficult. For example, most audience members have experienced a break-up, a family medical scare, and household fights. My intentions are not to downplay the difficulty and outstanding performances dramatic scenes create. I just knew I needed to challenge myself by breaking out of my norm and trying a new type of scene.

My first thought was to search for a comedic monologue, but I decided that was too much of a leap for me to pull off at this time. Comedy is so subjective, and I did not want to distract from my performance because a few jokes or beats didn't land. Finally, I landed on a monologue from Before Sunrise. It has a comedic undertone, but the performance requires a softer touch and the ability to come off as persuasive.

Practicing this script was more challenging than I thought (you get what you ask for). When preparing for a heavy and emotional scene, I find the main challenge is getting to that emotional level. It can be draining to both get and stay there for a prolonged period of time. The scene I chose did not have that. It was romantically charged, where my character pleads for an opportunity to spend more time with his love interest. I needed to be charming with a dash of self-deprecation.

So, how do I play this scene honestly? Even after performing it, I'm still determining if I 100% have it down. I can relate to the "chase" in many romantic stories, but performing in that role is entirely different.

I won't beat around the bush any longer. I did not love my performance of this scene in class. Even Mark's feedback aligned some with that feeling. He was so engaged with my previous performance that it felt like I let both of us down with my new scene. I can't lie; that feeling sucks. While I am still very much a beginner, I never want any struggles to come from holding myself back. If my performance could use some work, but I put everything into an honest effort, I can always hold my head high.

The good news is that I learned more with this effort than I ever would have if I had chosen to do the monologue from the previous class. It sounds cliche, but you can learn much more from a "failure" than you might expect.

When learning something new, it can feel wild to go in the opposite direction after you feel like you are finally moving in the right direction. A large part of me wanted to stick with the old monologue and improve on Mark's feedback. It felt so good to hear his positive feedback about my performance that I did not want to let go of it. But I want to get better, not just stay where I am.

Accepting a poor performance as a learning experience does not make it feel any less worse, but it does allow you to channel it into something greater. While we are not working on monologues in the next class, I am already more prepared for whatever challenge the scene presents.