We were standing around the microphone yesterday, recording handclaps and watching the snow come down outside the window.
It’s like a French Twin Peaks around here, with the occasional log truck rolling past and an old man in traditional cap walking slowly by, oblivious to the fact that we’re just a few feet away raising some kind of hell in the studio.
Things got even more surreal last week when I was asked to audition for an American TV pilot. So here we were in rural France, trying to recreate your basic sitcom set in the kitchen in order to film a scene to send to television producers in Los Angeles.
When did I become an actress, you may be asking? I think it was Tuesday.
Our friend Nick came over with his camera. After a few minutes of trying to “act” while reading from the script it dawned on me that I was going to have to memorize my lines. Eric played all the other characters, off camera, and no doubt will have his own series soon. When I’d learned the part it was actually kind of fun playing, what else, a guitar-totin’ mother. I’ve often felt like a character in some bizarre show anyway, so maybe I could play one on TV?
Now we’re recording again with one ear towards the phone, but the thing still hasn’t rung. I imagine they’re hiring a thirty five year old actress to play a rock n roll mom in her 40’s. That’s Hollywood, baby. It could never be as interesting as real life.