A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

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Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007


Yesterday my actor friend M sent me an excited email. She had just gotten a callback on the industrial gig she had tried out for in Boston the other day. Later, she telephoned to fill me in on the details.

It seems the head of the casting company had called, apologizing first of all for contacting her directly rather than going through her agent. "I couldn't find the agent's contact information", she explained. "You didn't attach it to your headshot or résumé."

"I don't have an agent," M admitted, pleased nevertheless that Maura Tighe should think she had someone to represent her.

"But I saw the woman myself," Maura insisted. "She signed you in at the casting call. She was wearing a fur coat and carrying a briefcase."

"That wasn't my agent, that was my friend Cicily," M told her. "She was just coming along for the ride."

I had dressed nicely in my favorite Max Studio skirt, expensive boots, and "fur" coat because, well, it was Boston. Carried M's briefcase for her because she had too many bags and not enough hands. Signed her in because she had forgotten her reading glasses. Stood in the hall giving her what must have looked like a pep talk because I didn't want the casting agents to hear my dumb questions. I guess maybe I did look and behave like an agent.

Hey--was I slipping into a role?? Getting myself noticed by a casting agent? This acting stuff might be contagious!

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