(Continued from p. 4)

2. having the commitment to observing both the traditional habit and the new one that we are attempting to evolvethe practice,
3. having the courage to stay present,
4. from the place of practice adding the intention or need, and
5. allowing the practice to be observable.

B. IMAGERY

The art of repetition, the art of mindfulness, the art of imagery, the art of metaphor. The art of imaging the new task, the repetition of the act of imaging, the physicalization of the imaged task, the repetition of the task. Making sure the imaged task resides in our bodies. The act of imaging the new habit is an important source of the new habit. For me, metaphor has been the key to practice. When I appear to be the greatest help to someone is when I can be engaged with assisting them in finding the right metaphor for their work. Then they can construct an active, meaningful physical image or patterning from the search for the appropriate metaphor.

Then there was the autumn day when I was leading a first year MFA class through introductory voice work. In the class were three actors who had worked with me before. Among them was a thirty year experienced actor/teacher with whom I had shared many professional experiences and various kinds of investigations over a ten year period. Until the particular moment that I will describe, he had been extremely supportive of his colleagues and the training. I was guiding the group through an image sequence when he suddenly blurted out, "David Smukler, I don't like your images." For a moment I was stunned, then I breathed and said, "You don't have to like my images. Find your own. All I can do is speak from the images that work for me. Your task is to take them and use them in any way you can, but make them your own. All I can be is a source or guide."

C. THE STRUGGLE

Today I am in the struggle to be, to be me, and I can only be me in my practice. I cannot go into the room of trying to be a good teacher or a good artist, I am fighting too many demons every day just to survive. I have my practice, my many forms of practice to help me find ways to stay grounded and present. Sometimes it's yoga, or maybe it's Suzuki training, aerobics, text, articulation, playing the piano, or practicing a dialect that may lead me to an open heart, being present, usefulness, grounding whatever the term. Other days and other moments vary in "success" and the practice in the voice class, in the studio, is the "success." What is of interest to me is that within a two hour class there can be so many variations and levels of success and fulfilledness for the various students.

The bottom line there is no logicthere is only the practice that I am engaged in

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D. THE STUDENT

During the last week of the term, one of the first year graduate actors, who has been struggling all year to move from the work ethic of "I've got to succeed or I am a total failure and I cannot live with myself," literally bounced into the studio in excitement to show me that he can now do a squat. (I usually throw down the gauntlet mid-autumn on the advantages of learning how to do a squat.) With feet turned out into second position and arms wide to hold his balance, he gently lowered his bottom into a squat and slowly came up. When he did it a second time, I helped him turn his feet more to parallel and to bring his arms inside his knees and he was able to maintain it. It has been a long time since I have seen someone come in with such a state of primary joy and realize that having accomplished one major practice, is ready for the next.

I would like to quote from an end of the term graduate student progress report. Writing on attitude: "I have grown to look forword to this time when I can explore the possibilities of my self on any specific day at any specific time, knowing that anything I might discover may be lost as quickly as it is found. It is a time for me to listen to my self."

On blocks: I do not believe "block" exists. For me "blocks" appear and dissolve from moment to moment. They are not immovable. They are not walls. They are rhythms of myself. I have come to believe that what I may have once thought were "blocks" are, in fact, just my body telling me to "try another way...this road is closed today," but I know that it may open up again tomorrow. On changes of this term's work over the previous term: "These principles are no longer someone else's. They have become my own. I no longer do the practice for someone else. I do it for myself."

VI. L'ENVOI

I agreed to write this article at a point last March when I knew that I was under the worst overload of several years and I thought if I am not going to sleep for six weeks, I might as well undertake a new focus or practice which will serve as an antidote for the rest of my chaotic life. I look forward to re-reading and possibly re-writing this essay a year from now. But I do know that at this point in time the struggle to examine "practice" has allowed me a place of reflection and a fresh point of engaging both the undergraduate and the graduate acting students, as well as those in my professional classes and in the film and stage productions that I coach.

The humbling part is that with all the knowledge that I have acquired, I am still capable of throwing a temper tantrum rather than seriously engaging in the particular practice that I am undertaking, whether clearing the weeds from the flower beds, learning a monologue, preparing to teach a lesson or being a student in someone else's class.

The art of practice is maturity and innocence, focus and chaos, will and indulgence.

The art of practice is practicing giving voice.