Started out my work day at The Studio with the one and only Jim Begley, who was kind enough to set me up in the Studio's beautiful A Room in order to record four auditions for an animated feature film currently being cast.  Having an audition opportunity for an animated feature is very rare, so I wanted to put everything I had into it.  Jim and I had fun playing with different reads, and I felt I'd done my very best to make strong, specific, evocative choices with the copy.  

A bonus was hanging out with Jim after I'd finished my audition takes.  We talked about music and he introduced me to Kings of Leon.  I really enjoy the close listening Jim inspires - the way I hear music when I am in his company that is far different than the way I listen to music when I'm alone.  It's exciting to listen to a great band and a really well-produced album with someone who totally understands the process of creating an album.  Jim was able to describe what worked, what to listen for, and how things were put together from the perspective of the producer, which I'd never before considered.  

Jim's description of the collaborative nature of the producer/artist relationship is essentially the collaborative relationships between a skilled, confident director and a cast of actors.  I was fascinated, because that producer/musician relationship and album creation parallels the way great theater and film and some audio productions are put together.  The dream for any passionate and daring actor is to work with a director who will respect their talent and recognize their craft, their artistry, and their ideas, while challenging them to go deeper, try something new, experiment and play and create the unexpected.  (Or that's my dream, anyway.)

And the evocative relationship in a creative collaboration is the reason I don't work alone on audiobooks.  It's the relationship between the director and the voice actor that is meaningful - for the creative team and for the listener.  Not every listener will know she's getting the benefit of that creative conflict and creative spark, the exploration that comes with the great relationship between an actor and director, but I believe it will be clear in the quality of the work.

After submitting my auditions and uploading the final chapter of Embrace the Grim Reaper for Blackstone, I went home to see Percy before he went to work at The Merrill (striking Sweeney Todd), and to talk to my wonderful mama.  (I told her I had awakened with the strong desire to get new tattoos - on my wrist and on both feet, and she was as enthusiastic about that idea as she was about my first two tattoos.)  Then I spent some silly amount of time debating with Brian what fun and funny thing we could do for the evening.  I coaxed and cajoled and finally convinced him to go with me to The Frontier Cinema and Cafe to see the Oscar-nominated animated and live-action short films, so we headed off to Brunswick for our movie films.  

I love the Frontier, and hope everyone will support it so that it can be a part of my life forever (is that selfish? okay fine).  Brian and I ordered bottles of Old Engine Oil beer and Reubens, and watched the five nominated and five highly commended short films, followed by the five live action films.

I really love having the opportunity to see these films, because as the quotes that flashed on screen between each film attest, short films are examples of some of the most inspired, creative, and mindful film-making.   There is far less room for filler and or excuse-making in a short story than a broad, sweeping one, and that holds true for film as well as written stories. Particularly effective was the winning film, La Maison En Petits Cubes, as well as one of the Commended films, Varmints, which has had mixed reviews but which I really enjoyed.  It was disturbing, weird, terrifying, and beautiful, and made me VERY uncomfortable (that's a good thing) and yet hopeful.  

And the live action films were great, particularly New Boy, which juxtaposed isolation, fear, brutality, and loss, with loyalty, justice, and the healing connection of laughter.  Auf Der Strecke (On the Line) was wonderful, mostly because of the performance of the lead, Swiss actor Roeland Wiesnekker.  He was so present, and the pain and conflict of the story was told through his eyes.  I don't know if I have ever noted a film actor's presence quite as much as I did  Wiesnekker's.  I would have driven the 40 minutes just to see him. 

Brian and I wrapped up the film extravaganza and drove home.  I was very sad to miss my lovely friend Sara Hallie Richardson's show at The Space Gallery, but I've been listening to her music while writing to atone for my absence.  She is fantastic, and I know I missed a great show.  I received and enjoyed a long, sweet email from my friend, The Inestimable Norman Dietz, who shared a newspaper article noting that Audiofile Magazine had called his narration of Studs Terkel's Touch and Go one of the best audiobooks of 2008.  In honor of Norman's awesomeness, now I'm listening to the Audible clip of Touch and Go.  Norman is the perfect person to narrate this work, and perhaps the ONLY person besides Terkel himself who has the humility, curiosity, wit, and hilarity to voice Terkel's words.  

And now I'm ending this very long blog post, because Percy has returned home from work.  It's 1:59 a.m., and I am going to sleep grateful for a great day.