Clowning around…

I’ve finished the 1^st week of clowning and it was amazing. I really loosened up and let my clown come out. Just went for it. There were times when I felt good and times when I felt incredibly stupid, but all in all, it was a great experience, and I’m happy to have had it. I met some really amazing people, some really brave people that came here to play and to share. The teacher is amazing. Sometimes, I get the feeling that he’s a cartoon character and I’m not sure if I’ve entered his world or if he’s entered mine.

I’ve told people that I was coming to clown and that’s indeed what I”ve done. The cost of the course is a lot of money that I don’t have right now. I applied for financial assitance and got it, most of it. The people here are very generous. Of course, it wasn’t all generosity. I agreed to come here and take clown classes for a week, but stay an additional week, working 6 hours a day in the kitchen to pay some of that money.

I’ve told people that I was going to clown school, and most of them thought I was joking and most of them didn’t bother hiding their confused disdain. After so many of my ‘irreverent’ choices, some of the people in my life still judge my decisions based on their own personal worldview, and of course clown school never reaches those lofty standards. In each of them, I could see in their eyes and hear in their sighs their lack of understanding. Why would a dashing 31 year-old intelligent capable nomadic man go to clown school?

And the answer to that question, of course, is an onion. What is clowning? That’s the first question that needs answering. What is clowning? I’m not talking balloon animals and Bubsy the Busy Bee Clown. I’m talking about theatrical clowning. Clowning is learning to express feelings in front of other people. It’s playing with themes and ideas. Clowning is letting go of our need to be right or serious. It’s returning to imagination and vulnerability. It’s opening the heart to the world and revealing the spectrum of human emotions b/c above all, clowns are transparent. That’s what makes them so intriguing—they don’t pretend to feel this or that, they feel this and that and they augment it, blow it up so that everyone can see that they are not alone.

People were masks. You go to the office and you wear the mask of Boss or Employee or Co-Worker or Whatever. You were the mask of Wife or Husband or Daughter or Son. Our lives are filled with roles, most of them unconscious. The beauty of a clown is his revealing of his masks and showing the true human beneath so that we can connect to the honest person below. It’s riveting to watch someone have the courage to be who they are, the courage to cry in agony in front of us, to squeal in fear, or to laugh in selfish delight. This is what attracts people to clowns—their courage to feel and express the things that we are so afraid to feel and to express.

But this is what I learned while I was here. I came to clown school because I wanted to learn how to work in that space of not knowing. Clowns are eternally present. They don’t plan, they don’t worry about the past, or fantasize about the future, but they might pretend to do those things. They live in the here and now and they never know what’s going to happen to them. When they touch that blanket, they don’t know it’s going to turn into a typewriter; it just springs forth from the imagination. This is something that I’ve struggled with—not knowing what’s going to happen—and it terrifies me. The clown lives in these spaces, lives in me and lives in you. There is a clown in each of us.

But my clown has escaped…

In the past week, I’ve laughed loud and helped others to laugh louder. People here can feel my positivity, my heartlight. And an opportunity came for me to attend the next week of clowning. So next week will be busy–lots of work and lots of clowning!!

Blessings to all!

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