I’m Going to Be a Clown
When I told my sister’s husband that I needed to get back in time for my clowning class, he started laughing. My sister said, “Cory, stop it!” And he said, “Why? It’s clowning!”
I guess he was right. The class was working and I hadn’t even done anything.
The truth is that I am in a clowning class and it’s the best thing that I’ve done for myself in years.
You know when you see something and it hits you. You’re like — that. That is what I want. That’s how I felt when I saw Bill Irwin in San Francisco, one of today’s most famous clowns, which is to say, someone who is not famous at all.
Yesterday in class, we talked about costume and I thought I was going to be the type of clown to play it cool and not do any of that weird makeup or silly clothes, but as soon as our professor clown teach mentioned it, I was like oh no here we go. (And let’s be real, when have I ever been able to play it cool? Never.)
All I want to do is try on clothes: big clothes, small clothes, suits, ballgowns, tutus and tiaras, capes and military boots. And I want to try on all of the makeup. All of it.
Because the heart wants what it wants and it will not be denied.
Will it make me happy? No, but I am enjoying it.
It pays to occasionally evaluate and ask yourself, “Are you the person who you think you are? Do you actually like the things you think you like? What brings you the most joy?”
Maybe it’s changed since the last time you asked yourself. For me, right now, clowning has been a big ‘ol bucket of joy. I’m going to stick with it for a while. Sorry mom and dad. And you thought improv was bad.