On the subject of Returning (Oh you didn't know I left?)

I have finished pouting, but am not quite finished being healed.

It's been a while since my last post, and your humble writer has decided that life without blogging means one of the following things.

1. I would have to return to therapy where I would be told that I need to start blogging again.

2. You would find me on a street corner stopping traffic for conversation.

3. You would hear me on a radio station on an informercial at 6 AM on a Saturday morning extolling the virtues of a feel good controversial depression therapy drugs and why the FDA won't approve them.

Okay... maybe that last one was a stretch.

Fact is, my friend Little Miss Notetaker got a little deep in her blog today, and it led me to believe that she needed to get something off her chest, and probably felt better after blogging. (Note to her self, I am not really a dog and Adjil is the Walrus... koo koo ka choo.)

Another friend has started a new blog as well to live a better life. Gameplan for Victory he calls it. I haven't been able to read it, but heaven knows, I need some plan for life's small victories.

The last week has been a roller coaster of terrible lows and unbelievable highs. Strangely, this here blog was part of the low pressure system that has been raining on my life for the past week. One of the best parts of my life I am no longer able to share with you in a public forum like here or on Facebook. Seems that someone believed that I was being too open and friendly about my role in one of my projects, that I was politely asked to stop. 

It hurt as you know that I live my life like an open book, that I enjoy having you all read. But like Microsoft has its confidentiality agreements, and those in Hollywood have the same, I will be living under my voluntary one for the foreseeable future.

But other parts of life are still an open book, like my awesome new class for Improv that began last night. I am already feeling the chemistry of the magical 201 class from last spring, and think that this group might have some explosive (in a good way) combinations that are sure to entertain, or at the very least, bring unexpected results.

Case in point, last night. I was doing a scene with one of the soft spoken people in class. The scene was based on him being given two emotions to work between, and I had carte blanche. The scene took the shape of a father and son playing pinball. What might have been a comedic scene turned into a profanity laced drama the likes of which I have never participated in on the stage. Yes, yours truly cussed up a storm in front of the somewhat shocked audience of my peers. Those who know me well will either be giddy that I broke through (thanks, Tony) or shocked that I would do that (thanks, Mom.)

I think opening the faucet to the dirty water of profanityland broke open the doors to sharing my feelings again, much like the "trip to rehab" had done months ago.

While most of you never realized I had left, welcome back to me... and the artist once again known as...

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger