I wrote here a few days ago that I used to do commercials all the time but haven’t had a whiff of one for ages.
Esta just rang. “It’s a good thing I’m in the office, darling.” It’s half six. Kharmel has called me in for a first round commercial casting.
I wrote her a card a while ago when I was up in Stratford and feeling employable. I thanked her honestly and expressed my happiness that she was credited in a well known movie she’d cast. Casting Directors don’t get as much recognition as they deserve. They populate the industry, and bring the variation and the colour.
There was a period where the only meetings I was getting were hers, and then – though it often went south – she helped me at least feel like I was pointing myself in the right direction. I know damn well I’m an asset now, I know my job, but there are many more rapids we have to negotiate to survive in this business. She helped. And right now, when the biggest problem I’ve got is cashflow, as if by magic a shot at a commercial again. Yes please. Thank you. Yum.
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Today was van all day with a brief meeting in the middle about a Shakespeare entertainment thing.
Tomorrow and the next day more van. I’ll be in Canterbury mostly moving my own stuff around to make room for more. Somehow before lunch I’ll have to record a self tape. And I’m happy to do so as I’ve wanted one with money attached. This year I’ve been reasonably discreet about the details but something delightful blew up in my face and left me in a very weird headspace. I really want to get down to nuts and bolts and put myself back together properly. This will help. And I’m thrilled that K is calling me in again. These are the people who can help, the casting directors. Without them at your shoulder it is very easy to fall away completely. You have to get in the room to stand a chance.
And so we push on. Today was about emptying one space to make room for more. I reckon I’ll take Christine’s stuff up up Camden. She is being totally helpless. “I can’t store it anymore. Either you tell me where to put it, or I have to either throw it away or pay my own money to store your things.” I offered to take it in for a few months when she was evicted and it was on the street. A few months is now years and she can’t pay me. I don’t like the version of me that throws it. She’s relying on me being nice. But there’s nice and there’s stupid… I know she will never make a call on it. So can I store it without it costing me? For now, perhaps, but in space I might otherwise use.
Ach.
Early bed tomorrow so I can be shiny on tape. Logistics.
