Boo-hoo-hoo to me.
Seriously, the less I think about how fucked up and counterproductive the business of being an artist can be, the better I feel - not just about myself but the world.
That being said, if you have a line on an audition you think I'd be right for, let me know. It's a little like what I imagine a being a crackhead is like. I'll keep saying I can give it up, but man, oh man, next thing you know I'm sucking a dealer's dick for a role. I mean a rock. Either way. You get the metaphor.
My sweet friend Michael asked me if I would be interested in making some dolls for a short play that he's producing for another sweet fella, Jonathan. And I was all, "Hell yeah, I would." The only specification was that one of them should be a one-eared cat.
So, here are my new actor friends that I just made. In alphabetical order (as per their contracts):
Above is Bobby Blobby. He's sort of your overly-serious, slightly schlubby but chameleon-like actor. Basically, he's Knitted Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Introducing, Freddy Fingers. He's kind of ugly and weird, but also sexyish? and non-threatening, and definitely a character actor and not a leading spider. He's knitted Peter Lorre, or Willem Dafoe, or Steve Buscemi.
And our leading lady, Paco. She's beautiful, in an unconventional sort of way, and exotic, her accent is thick and her features are slightly asymmetrical, but she as a certain.....je ne sais quoi. She's knitted Audrey Tatou or Marion Cotillard.
Here's the cast publicity shot. Bobby's got a well-documented drinking problem, even though his PR guy says it was a bout with exhaustion, either way, that should account for his rough appearance.
If these fuckers hit it big, I'll be expecting my ten percent.