A young clown takes matters into his own hands in a city of certain terror.
Miles Mandwelle (Clown-in-Training)
I have often been the class clown, but I never dreamed there'd be a special place reserved for me in clown class. I had taken clown and mask before, but I was never really in the right place to do it, so revisiting this material with a clear mind was appealing to me.
Clowning is not easy. The idea of clowning, as I perceive it so far, is that you push yourself beyond what you think is possible, and combine it with joy and boundless positivity and most importantly- innocence. Clowns are pre-sexual and pacifists. For someone like me who has, until recently, struggled with negativity, this can be an issue.
But still, even then, being WILLING to stretch yourself that far can be troublesome. Usually by the time Monday rolls around, I'm super tired from working all weekend.
Such was the case this past Monday when I was being lead by my very capable teacher and realized all too late that I was having a classic case of the "I'M-JUST-NOT-LISTENING" blues.
I decided to take matters in my own hands in an adveture I can't help but want to call:
LITTLE RED NOSE, BIG CITY!
Yes, that's me, after I was asked if I had weed for the five millionth time.
New York City is a goldmine for the young, innocent clown. While my boyfriend and roommates may have thought, "Isn't it a bit early for this?," I couldn't help but venture out into the day with the nose on.
Two old ladies saw me carrying an enormous bag of laundry (which is hilarious in itself). One cried, "I love your nose!"