uses in the improv troupe have been talking about trying to advance our scene work by writing stream-of-conscious-y scenes by ourselves. this is my first attempt at trying a scene that failed last night in practice with paul nellis. this is about five minutes of unedited, non-stop writing.
the man enetered and saw the youdg art student painting. ahhh, i see you are still working tin the medioum of the streets. spray paint. why must you worknin such a medium that is chliche and reeks of the lower classes? meaustero, this is the oaint i’ve always used. the measetsro told the boy i want you rwork to be grewt, which is why i sponsodred you. but your work of late has become stale, and ineffective. th e peple i know in the art community are beginning to talk. i think we need to make you more passionate. how, maeustro> i weant tyou o quit school and devote your liekfe to art. it s tuor rue calling. your’e like a diamond in the rough, and if it can be hewn, then i will be the person to do it. ghow do you know what great asrt is, maestork, the biy asked…becayse, the maesoostru said, i used t be an artost, just like you. i used to have the passion and the vision to vreate art that would have brought the world to its feet with rounds of applause. i can stoill hear it nbow…ut maistestro, i like this wa. no , you should ..you should mve here.. more stay here more. you should become more than my protégé. i should hire you to…butle. you’ll be my butler. i need one, in my delcling ing age, and you’re just the person. i want you to find your voice. right now it is unkmatched. well, i gues s that’s a good isdea. i fdon’t know though, quit school? i forgot to show you. here: i vobought you this. its a paint set and as many canbvases as tyou want. i believe in you, bow…now you must belive in me. well…hereedit i know your parents don’t kilek you. imy parents lve me, masestro…do they? when did they buyyou canvsases? they’re poor. aha! if they wanted toyou to be great, great like i once was, they would have given uou more canvases/ my parents liove me just the way i am, maestro, well…do tyhey> yes, the boy said, they do. just the otrher day my parents gave me, with the last nit of their savings,, this can of black spray aint. i love it. i wantit to last forever.,i even save it. just to remember that thidss is what mey perant s want. do they? well, here…opens door…here’s a hundred thousabd paint cans. you must dstay with me and further your art. no maestro, no i won’t. i gotta funny dfeeling about you. hey, it’s my parents. hello, son, hello mom and dad.
the man enetered and saw the youdg art student painting. ahhh, i see you are still working tin the medioum of the streets. spray paint. why must you worknin such a medium that is chliche and reeks of the lower classes? meaustero, this is the oaint i’ve always used. the measetsro told the boy i want you rwork to be grewt, which is why i sponsodred you. but your work of late has become stale, and ineffective. th e peple i know in the art community are beginning to talk. i think we need to make you more passionate. how, maeustro> i weant tyou o quit school and devote your liekfe to art. it s tuor rue calling. your’e like a diamond in the rough, and if it can be hewn, then i will be the person to do it. ghow do you know what great asrt is, maestork, the biy asked…becayse, the maesoostru said, i used t be an artost, just like you. i used to have the passion and the vision to vreate art that would have brought the world to its feet with rounds of applause. i can stoill hear it nbow…ut maistestro, i like this wa. no , you should ..you should mve here.. more stay here more. you should become more than my protégé. i should hire you to…butle. you’ll be my butler. i need one, in my delcling ing age, and you’re just the person. i want you to find your voice. right now it is unkmatched. well, i gues s that’s a good isdea. i fdon’t know though, quit school? i forgot to show you. here: i vobought you this. its a paint set and as many canbvases as tyou want. i believe in you, bow…now you must belive in me. well…hereedit i know your parents don’t kilek you. imy parents lve me, masestro…do they? when did they buyyou canvsases? they’re poor. aha! if they wanted toyou to be great, great like i once was, they would have given uou more canvases/ my parents liove me just the way i am, maestro, well…do tyhey> yes, the boy said, they do. just the otrher day my parents gave me, with the last nit of their savings,, this can of black spray aint. i love it. i wantit to last forever.,i even save it. just to remember that thidss is what mey perant s want. do they? well, here…opens door…here’s a hundred thousabd paint cans. you must dstay with me and further your art. no maestro, no i won’t. i gotta funny dfeeling about you. hey, it’s my parents. hello, son, hello mom and dad.