The weather here has been miserable all day. Gray, rainy. Not the warm, gooey sort of gray and rainy that makes you wanna curl up by the fire with someone you love, but the insipid, torpid sort that drains the life from every living thing and makes you wonder, "What's the point?" Thanks for the pick-me-up, Mother Nature. Your timing couldn't be better.
On top of that, I'm surrounded by artists--the needy sort.
Luckily, we start working on Camille this week. Few needy folks or egos in our group, mostly because none of us are actors.
Does that make sense?
