Click.

I'm getting there.

There are more lines in my head at this point than not.  Yes, some of them are paraphrased, and I'm working on it.  And as things become ingrained, then Doctor Austin Sloper begins to come into focus.  Connections are attempted; listening comes more easily. 

It's always easier to see and hear what's going on around you when you're not in your own head, struggling to find the words.

I'm waiting for the click, of course.  Have I ever described the 'click?'

It's actually not an original thought; it's based upon something I read once upon a time.   When I was a drinker, I was always waiting for the click.  The click in my head that indicated that I had had enough to ride the wave.  And once the click occurred, I could concentrate less upon getting TO the click, and more upon what was actually going on around me.

Weird, but true.  And for me, the progress of the development of the character is somewhat the same.

Get the blocking; get the lines, put them into your head, and wait (patiently works best, but...heh...have we met?) for the moment when you get the click; when the words and the movement and the brain and the heart all moving in the same direction at the same time.  All of a sudden, the inflections are working, the connections are made, you can react off of the other people on the stage rather than reacting off of what you THINK they're giving you, and you know what to do with your hands.

Almost there.

I'm a little sad, though; apparently I intimidate.  It's not a new thing; I've been told that before.  I am intense; another positive trait disguised as a flaw in my character.  And that sometimes puts people off, puts them on the defensive, or drives them to a hasty retreat.  And the connections I thought I was making on a personal level disappear in a puff of self-delusion.

The click of everything working on a stage is just as addictive as Comrade Vodka was.

Maybe just a tad healthier.

I hope.