Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist
I wasn’t expecting post-show blues at the end of a five-day film shoot, but I think that’s what this is; this slump in my shoulders, this ash in my brain.
Then again, not every five-day film shoot is for a film co-written, directed, and produced by one of your first and favorite Neo-Futurist mentors and her impossibly cool wife, in which you were fortunate to play a version of yourself doing a version of a show you’ve been doing for over a decade, alongside other friends from your ensemble who were also playing versions of themselves (or, in one case, not at all a version of themselves); with Cameron Esposito as a nurturing but scorpion-nerved veteran, Mae Whitman as an up-and-coming ensemble rookie, and Martin Starr as her troubled, disoriented husband sitting in the audience watching it unfold. All of them were lovely to work with, but especially Cameron, who possesses the enigmatic quality of having both charm for days and eyes that dart right through you.
I’m still surfacing from the atmosphere of the world that was created, then torn down and taken away. When I feel an itch on my face I hesitate to scratch it lest the makeup come off and I keep waiting for loud stretches of conversation to be interrupted by the 1st AD calling for quiet.
I make most of my art out of small everyday items and carefully chosen words existing over a span of 1-5 minutes. The experience of this many people and this much technology for this many days doing this much activity was surreal and awesome to behold, and I’m aware I’m not saying anything that many people I know don’t already understand. I’m just saying: It was new to me, and now I miss it, and I didn’t realize how much I’d miss it until just now.