Three years in, and so many iterations into this journey, I’m really struck by what it means to have a longterm, evolving relationship with a project. This is a new thing for me…to have an old thing. I truly have not had a lot of stability in my life.
academic friends are completely demoralized by the fact that they can no longer trust that a single assignment from any of their students isn’t written by a robot. My creative sector friends are watching as contracts get canceled because decades of expert learning and deep skill-bases get replaced by AI-driven images.
I’ve now visibilized the invisible bag of tricks as part of the show–all the skills and lessons I was picking up along the way.
I know, for me, when I go to a storytelling event and throw my name in the hat to tell a story, until I get to go, I’m not really, completely listening to anyone else. I’m just waiting, practicing my story, rearranging the bullet points inside my head.
But what happens if my job is only successful if I learn how to really F.A.A.F.O.? What I’m learning is…I don’t think I get any better at my storytelling, especially if I’m going to make a whole full-length show, if I can’t learn to play–really play, like I’m a little kid again–and let some things fail.
It’s kind of like that joke about the the two young fish that run into the old fish, and the old fish says, Hey, boys, how’s the water? And the young fish say, What’s water? Storytelling was the water that was all around me.