For some reason, I get talked to a lot in coffee shops. A lot. I used to get a little bit annoyed when my flow was interrupted, but I don’t really mind that much anymore. Mostly because the characters who interrupt me are usually extremely interesting.

They also throw me out of my pattern. All of a sudden, something different is happening. Something I didn’t expect when I woke up that morning. I expected to get out of bed, do my morning routine, and then walk across the street to Melriches to write and to do whatever else. When something else happens, it reminds me to be mindful and to be open to new experiences. Because let’s face it, if everyday was EXACTLY like the day before it, nothing would ever change. And that would basically just suck.

The best part about getting interrupted is the opportunity that now exists to become acquainted with a life and a personality far more complex (heartbreaking and humorous) than anything that could have come out of my own imagination. Some of the best characters in literature were actually based on real people.

In one of her letter’s home, Sylvia Plath wrote about a woman she met at the hospital while she was getting her appendix out:

“Fortunately, there seem to be only two “serious” cases now – a brain operation, who is still in a coma after half a week with tubes in her nose and a skull-sock on her head, and an old lady run over by a car with both legs broken, who keeps shouting “Police, policeman, get me out of here” and calling the nurses “devils who are trying to murder me” and knocking the medicine out of their hands. Her moans, “Oh, how I suffer,” are very theatrical; and as she is shrewd all day, picking up the least whisper, and as they give her drugs for pain, I think most of this is an act for attention. I find most of us are more entertained than annoyed by this as our days are otherwise routine, and she adds a good bit of color with her curses and sudden crashes as she flings glasses of medicine about.”

– Sylvia Plath

Now, that is a literary character. I think that a large part of being an artist is stealing. Stealing from life: from your own experiences and the experiences of others. Look around! Life has some awesome material to play with, and apparently it will occasionally walk up to you in a coffee shop and buy you a quiche.

For me, while on stage the goal is always to create characters my audience can relate and empathize with. Borrowing from life feels like a great place to start.

“I want to force myself again and again to leave the warmth and security of static situations and move into the world of growth and suffering where the real books are people’s minds and souls.” 

– Sylvia Plath

There are so many points of view, beliefs and paradigms that I know nothing about, and part of listening is learning. Learning about the HUGE range that exists within human experience. So, when I meet a man in a coffee shop with a touchingly close relationship to God (pointing to Him- in the sky – every couple seconds as if to ask his opinion), I have to step back and wonder about my own eccentricities.

Get to know yourself, and suddenly you have a series of complex characters that you can really play with.

Wherever my creative ideas come from, I find some comfort in knowing that we’re all characters to somebody, and (at the end of the day) life is nothing but a story. So, next time you’re interrupted by a stranger, it may pay off to stop what you’re doing, and listen.

* Photo credit by waithamai: http://www.flickr.com/photos/waithamai/with/8372042656/