All the world's a free acting class! There are things you can do in ordinary life to develop your instrument and craft. One of the most fundamental is to notice your feelings, your body, your voice, and your inner images.
As an actor, perhaps you change your mind, voice, and body to “go to character,” but you are still using yourself when you work. In acting, you are the instrument being played! Personal Inventory is basic to becoming more familiar with that instrument.
Begin with a simple question
Personal Inventory is a spontaneous, moment-to-moment flow of feelings and responses to the world. The basic structure is simple. Ask yourself aloud, “How do I feel?” Answer, “I feel...” and allow a short response. Ask again. Answer again.
I credit Eric Morris and recommend No Acting, Please, coauthored with Joan Hotchkis. We developed variations of the exercise in our classes. That lineage matters: this is a teaching practice we have adapted, not a technique I am claiming to have invented.
Speak in a stream-of-consciousness fashion. Let the answer arrive before you have polished it. You might call this blurting. The point is to discover a changing response rather than prepare an impressive account of yourself.
Here is a short example:
“How do I feel? I feel lonely. How do I feel? I feel tired. My arms are heavy. My jaw feels lazy. How do I feel? I feel sad, I miss my grandmother. I feel angry. How do I feel? I feel silly. How do I feel? I feel scared. I notice tension in my stomach. I'm hungry. How do I feel? I feel happy.”
There is no required sequence and no correct emotional destination. You may feel something clearly, notice a physical sensation, receive an image, or discover that you do not know what you feel. Begin where you are.
Keep the answers short
Avoid long explanations during the exercise. You are practicing attention to immediate experience, not building an argument about why you ought to feel differently.
Here is the kind of answer that can take you away from the exercise: “Well, I feel like I ought to be taking out the trash because the garbage smells bad, and I should have taken it out this morning, but maybe no one will notice...”
There may be useful information in that thought. For this exercise, ask what feelings or sensations accompany it. “I see the trashcan. I feel mad at myself. I feel disgusted. I feel relieved.” Those are possibilities, not instructions for what you must experience.
Thinking is not an enemy of acting. We are temporarily changing the focus of attention. Script analysis, reflection, and reasoning have their own important work to do. Personal Inventory gives you practice receiving another part of your experience.
Let the voice and body participate
Saying the words of what you feel can be a considerable step. Then ask, “Am I expressing how I feel?”
You do not have to push an emotion into your body or manufacture a display. Allow your voice and body to change as your impulses change. There can be a feeling of ease in this process.
If you feel silly, a laugh may arrive. If you feel sad, your pace may change. If you feel frightened, you may notice a change in your attention or breath. Your response will not necessarily look like someone else's, and it does not need to resemble a familiar picture of the emotion.
Keep listening. A big display can become another way of missing what is happening now. So can an effort to remain perfectly composed. You are investigating, moment by moment.
Notice unnecessary effort and habitual movement with curiosity. Do not assume that every tense muscle or repeated movement proves a hidden feeling. You can make a small comfortable adjustment and observe what changes without turning the observation into a diagnosis.
Find a teacher who can listen
You may discover that a few kinds of response appear repeatedly while others seem difficult to name or express. A skilled teacher can help you notice habits and experiment with alternatives.
The teacher's job is not to declare what you must secretly feel. Nor should you have to disclose private material to satisfy someone else's theory of your instrument. Look for work that makes you more aware, more available, and more able to choose.
I have seen significant shifts in actors during this exercise and its side-coaching. Those are teaching observations, not a guarantee of a particular result. An article can introduce a practice, but it cannot reproduce the attention and adjustment of a good class.
Connect the inventory to the material
If you do not notice where you are, it can be difficult to choose what you need before a scene. You may arrive preoccupied or tired while the character begins in delight. Or you may be full of excitement while the circumstances call for something quieter and more watchful.
The inventory helps you notice the starting point. It does not mean you must erase your actual experience or turn it into the character's exact emotion. You can then choose a useful preparation and move toward the circumstances, the action, and the other person.
Do the scene. Let your attention participate in the relationship. The inventory is preparation for availability; it is not an instruction to keep checking yourself throughout a performance.
Keep a place for the work
Practice briefly in a setting where speaking and moving are appropriate. Protect your privacy, and respect the people around you. Your workplace and a stranger's commute do not have to become your acting class.
You can notice responses throughout the day and return to an exercise later. If the work becomes overwhelming, stop and return your attention to the room and an ordinary activity. Acting practice does not require you to force your way through distress.
Part of the joy of being an actor is the exploration of what it means to be alive. The more aware you become of your own instrument, the more material you have for investigating characters, scripts, and relationships.
Ask the question. Listen to the answer. Allow it to change.
