Talking to oneself. Often. For long periods of time. In different voices. With distinctly different personalities...
I'd say the above is pretty indicative of insanity, wouldn't you? And it's what I do for a living. So that makes me...
No, I know that my puppets aren't real, and that I'm throwing my voice...
...or do I?
Well, talking to myself is what I'm doing right now. If no-one reads this blog, then I'm retroactively insane. So somebody please read this and save me from insanity.
Ventriloquism is a lonely profession. Moments of intense joy and inspiration as I feel my puppet partners coming to life through my considerable skill; moments of gratification when I bring joy and laughter to an audience, giving me the fleeting feeling that my existence has a purpose. Then the show is over, the audience gone, I pack up my dummies and equipment and head back on the road. Me and the dummies, alone together.
Not that my life is so lonely. My profession yes, but I'm a single dad to two wonderful daughters. They take up loads of my time, and it's anything but lonely around them. The divorce is not finalized yet, but the marriage has been over for a long time. All for the better, I feel. But this profession of mine...weird, you think? To you, maybe, but to me it was the perfect profession, as soon as I discovered my talent for it as a young man. There's a cliche, an image of a shy ventriloquist who uses his dummy to say things that he would never have the courage to say himself. That cliche is quite apt in my case. And doing it all these years has made me less shy. There are other adjectives that are often associated with ventriloquists aside from "shy", like withdrawn, reclusive, antisocial, weird, mad..."withdrawn" fits me, perhaps, but I don't accept the others, especially the "mad" one.
Then again, mad people don't know that they are mad, right?
I'd say the above is pretty indicative of insanity, wouldn't you? And it's what I do for a living. So that makes me...
No, I know that my puppets aren't real, and that I'm throwing my voice...
...or do I?
Well, talking to myself is what I'm doing right now. If no-one reads this blog, then I'm retroactively insane. So somebody please read this and save me from insanity.
Ventriloquism is a lonely profession. Moments of intense joy and inspiration as I feel my puppet partners coming to life through my considerable skill; moments of gratification when I bring joy and laughter to an audience, giving me the fleeting feeling that my existence has a purpose. Then the show is over, the audience gone, I pack up my dummies and equipment and head back on the road. Me and the dummies, alone together.
Not that my life is so lonely. My profession yes, but I'm a single dad to two wonderful daughters. They take up loads of my time, and it's anything but lonely around them. The divorce is not finalized yet, but the marriage has been over for a long time. All for the better, I feel. But this profession of mine...weird, you think? To you, maybe, but to me it was the perfect profession, as soon as I discovered my talent for it as a young man. There's a cliche, an image of a shy ventriloquist who uses his dummy to say things that he would never have the courage to say himself. That cliche is quite apt in my case. And doing it all these years has made me less shy. There are other adjectives that are often associated with ventriloquists aside from "shy", like withdrawn, reclusive, antisocial, weird, mad..."withdrawn" fits me, perhaps, but I don't accept the others, especially the "mad" one.
Then again, mad people don't know that they are mad, right?
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