In January, I'm shooting a short film called Obvious Child. I am fortunate enough to get to participate in two dancing montages throughout the course of the film. In one of them, the script calls for me to dance in my undies "like an African queen on hot coals" to this song by Paul Simon. Listen to it--it rules. Either way, I decided to haphazardly practice my dancing for kicks in the wide open space that is my living room. Twice. Before I knew it, I was twirling around like a drunken ballerina in a floral dress. When the song ended, I kind of internally laughed to myself about my joyous private moment, and then I looked up to find four silhouettes standing on the bridge and looking at me through my dumb, curtain-less windows. I am an idiot.
In other news, I found the song on a site that I really dig called Cold Splinters that's about "outdoors, camping, music, and few things in between." I also found these sweet 1987 USA Family Road photos on the site (one above and two below), that were linked to from flickr site. Awesome.
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