Recorded something this week at a studio near Gramercy Park, an area of New York I almost never go to, and every time I stroll by I think, “Damn I should come here more often”. It was a stunning spring day, chilly in the shade, warm in the sun. I walked for what felt like miles. From the Village to Gramercy and then down to Houston and back up. Working with the producer and the engineer (and his adorable puppy) was a joy, and of course there are nerves but this is what years of training since I was a kid can do. I know how to calm myself and focus and I know how to take notes and make instant adjustments. I know how to use my voice. I know how to sound like I’m talking to a friend, even though I’m totally by myself, isolated in the sound room, while everyone else is in the next room. It only takes a second for me to get in the right headspace to do that. It’s a totally artificial situation. Working in that artificiality and make it work is second nature. This is technique from years of acting training. It’s wild, really, how it’s just THERE when I need it. I can’t say what it’s for, not yet, but soon. Recorded in the morning. Walked. Enjoyed the white blossoms on the trees. Met up with a friend. Went to a movie by myself (Babi Yar. Context. Very upsetting. Being in a movie theatre is still a novel experience and I soak it up). Met up with friend again. Retreated to the oasis. Fell on the bed and breathed. Floppy. Felt a huge sense of space. I’ve been working for two months straight on this thing. It is now DONE. In the hands of others. BYE. My muscles hurt (in a good way) from the walk. We had a glass of champagne. I don’t drink normally. Not for any big bad reason, I just don’t do it on a regular basis, because I don’t need depressants in my life. But a glass of champagne is celebratory. It was nice. I feel relief that it’s done but also a sense of loss. I love big projects and I miss them when they end. They’re like companions.
