I told everyone back in April that I was going to be performing in the annual GSLIS storytelling festival. Well, the recording of the Fest worked and you can listen to me sing The Scotsman right here. Just scroll down a wee bit and you'll see the link to the audio file. Not a half-bad photo of myself, either.
And no, I haven't been brave enough to listen to myself yet.
I told my first story to my Storytelling class last night. I kicked ass.
I actually got gasps and satisfied "aha" sounds at the ending, which still makes me do a little pleased wiggle when I think about it. The instructor said that I really "owned the story."
Okay, mustn't let head get too swelled. One bit of constructive criticism that I got (from a former theater student) was that I might want to stand a bit more solidly, especially considering my body type. Apparently, I was standing in third position (or first position, which seems unlikely) the entire time. Makes sense. As a bigger person, I tend to be very aware that I'm taking up "extra space" and I tend to hold myself more closed, in order to feel smaller. Something to consider for next time.
Oh, and I really overestimated what the appropriate age group for the story is. It isn't a scary story, but there is a sudden ending and the plot revolves around a horse and death. I've forgotten my little girl past and didn't remember that bad things happening to furry creatures can be a bit much when one is young. And older, but we tend to be able to handle it better.
So, now I need to choose the next story to tell. I think I might sing the next one. I even have two song-stories to choose between; one is funny and one is creepy. I'm going to practice both and decide later since I have a few weeks.
Oh, what story did I tell last night? If you like, I'll tell it to you....
Well, neither of my cats is a tabby, but I always try for some alliteration.
On Monday I will tell my first of three stories in front of my Storytelling class. I love this class. It's giving me a nice break from my other two classes while feeding my little anthropologist heart. Naturally, I've chosen a Russian folktale. I've been practicing telling it out loud for the past two weeks; in the car, while doing dishes, in the shower. And to my cats. Who are the absolutely worst audience ever.
Misha just looks up for a moment, and then falls back asleep. Is he bored? Or just exhausted from sleeping all day? And Missy talks back constantly. I think she thinks I'm going to feed her. Or she's just very critical of my style. Maybe both.
I think I'm going to have to accost my human friends and make them listen to me. Hopefully they won't be meowing the entire time I'm trying to practice my stories.
