Brava

March 2012

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"That's my time, my release valve where I remember who I am." Sheila Robertson Fiore: How do you take this idea into parenting? Salas: I think about situations of defiant behavior, rude behavior, mean behavior. I'm able to take it as 'this is what happened in the moment.' I don't think my 4-year-old is an awful, rude human be- ing, so I don't get angry. I don't get mean. I don't get overwhelmed. It's just oh, in this moment, you had really rude behavior. Robertson: It's funny, we're talking about being moms [doing] improv, but when I do improv, that's the least mom I am. That's my time, my release valve where I remember who I am. When you get caught up in baby world or little-kid world, it's hard to remember, 'Oh, yeah, I'm fun, and I'm a fox,' and all that. I'm the youngest of six, and my mom was on the same bowling league for 30 years. Wednesday night was the holy day of obligation when she went out, had some brandy, and had a good time. I call improv my bowling night. It helps me not be resentful. Salas: I always tell women that improv is the best hobby because there's no rehearsal, no lines to memorize, and it all happens after your kids go to bed. You're not giving up time with them, and it's not another thing on your mind. Literally, you put the kids to bed, show up and make it up on the spot. Fiore: Would you say it's childlike? Rogers: Yes. You get over looking silly or stupid. Someone might say, 'OK, you're Thomas Edison!' and you're like, 'Wow. I have nothing.' But you just go straight into it. That's very childlike. I tried learning to ski at 28, and it was a fiasco because I was afraid and tense. But there were all these 3-year-olds just going down the hill. I hated them! Improv gives you that spirit, that fearlessness that you're unable to fall. Fiore: Is it an adrenaline high? Everyone: Yes. Hedenband: There's a flip side, though. Sometimes on stage there are moments of perfect peace, when you look across at the other person you're improvising with and you're connecting. You're so in the moment that it's like all life stops. You're totally calm, and you completely trust the person across from you. Fiore: My mind is most apt to be childlike when I'm with my child. But it's hard to get back there later. How do you do it? Salas: Improv is a form that disappears as soon as you've moved on … It's the group who's there that night, the audience. We get that collective experience together, and it'll never happen again. Fiore: It's your charcoal drawing on the sidewalk. Hedenband: Exactly! It's a different kind of art form. I like to paint, but painting is a sole activity. This kind of art form is created by a group of people, by an audience, in a moment, with nothing but the word banana. It's painted right there, and sometimes it's a masterpiece. Fiore: It sounds like trained spontaneity, an oxymoron. Salas: Yeah, but it's really about the tools [not a methodology]. Rogers: I would argue, if you want to use a Buddhist lens, that im- prov is not about giving you things but taking things away—your inhibition, your fear, your ego, your personal agenda. At its core, it's about openness. We don't give you anything, but we help you uncover what's there. The next day, I found myself confronted with a sick son, no child- care, a broken touchpad on my laptop, a lost wireless mouse, and a fast-approaching deadline. So what did I do? I said, 'Yes, and…' Yes, I can nap in the sun with my sweet feverish child, and then pull a couple all-nighters like the little fox I once knew I was. Thank you, ladies, for the Zen. ••• March 2012 bravamagazine.com 47

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