Maria.

Our first encounter with Maria occured the day after we arrived in Michigan. The Actor was dutifully in the dressing room, changing and trying on different period costume, whilst the L'il Man and I waited at a table nearby.

Maria sat at a sewing machine, her fingers guiding, then flying to tend a seam, then back to guiding again.

She was a cheerful sort, with raven black hair and the body of a glamour girl, despite her more elderly composition. Tasked, yet engaged with what was happening around her, Maria was immediately enamored with the baby.

She had come from a family of seven, Italian in descent, and had four children of her own. Complimenting me on my parenting style of allowing the babe to explore, she began to strike up a friendship with him. L'il Man took to her almost immediately.

The hours upon hours of clothing changes only served to bring about deepening conversation between The Seamstress and I. She had sewn for the industry many, many times ~ including broadway endeavors, and, as if that weren't enough, bridal gowns, christening garments, and more lined the verbal showcase of wares she presented to me.

Maria and I were chatting when we heard news of Michael Jackson's passing, straight from a phone call from Hollywood to the head of the Wardrobe Department. The somber news dampened everyone's spirits, and only served to add to my dismay that I'd likely not see the gregarious woman again after this.

Oh, how wrong I was! Cheers rang out among us as I discovered that Maria was on staff day after day after day - hemming, repairing, replacing fabrics and garments for the multitude of extras and cast members present for the production.

Our friendship continued. Each time location moved, Maria moved with us. A different locale, yet the same, her trusty sewing machine always present.

Our final week spent together gave her pause to finally utilize her handy-dandy lighter-fuse driven power cord . . . resulting in the most unique, yet enjoyable backdrops for creative handiwork yet!

We may never have Maria on board during any future films. However, rest assured ~ no other seamstress . . . regardless of how flambouyant they might be ~ can never erase the mark that Maria left on our hearts.

Maria, we love you!

The Phone Rang

[ . . . continuation of Intermission Ended . . .]

The phone rang, carrying a familiar voice across the miles to my ear. Delighted, I listened intently as the woman on the other end of the line, Ms. M, detailed for me the meandering way in which she discovered my son's involvement with the movie, and how she came to own my phone number once again.

Her son had met The Director in person, trying out for the lead role also ~ at The Director's request. As the cards landed, the lad was not chosen, yet he kept up with the details of the production via imdb.

It was there that Ms. M and her son found my son, listed as the Best Friend. Oh, how they wanted to send congratulations! Yet our contact information had been long lost under the weight of audition sheets and call backs.

Enter a Hollywood event, which Ms. M and her son attended last week Friday. They were delighted to run into old friends ~ only to discover that the young lady before them had just been on set with The Actor a week before! Requesting our information, and receiving it gladly, Ms. M followed through with her congratulatory call.

Congratulations soon fell to discussion of new projects on the horizon for each of our boys. Ms. M detailed her son's most recent accolades, and his newest exciting opportunities. As she did so, a vital piece of information came to light: her son was just slated for a network test for the same project my son was being considered for.

As soon as she spoke this, I knew we would be hearing very, very shortly, as information was being filtered out through agents and managers. I held my breath, and hung up the phone in anticipation.

For the project, of which we've all been on our toes about, The Actor did not receive audience for the network testing. Disappointment? Yes.

Yet, we know that the opportunities to speak with both a well-respected Casting Director and Director in the industry under such special circumstances is to be counted a great honor. All the effort. All the hoops. Was it worth it? Absolutely! No endeavor is without hard work - elbow grease, and it's ups and downs as one makes their way. Bottom line is, my son did his best, without regrets. Therefore, we move forward, knowing this is one of the greater of character qualities.

Today is the network test . . . and our prayers are lifted up on behalf of our friend.

Join us, won't you?

Intermission Ended Three Days Ago . . .

. . . and due to our travels I forget to keep y'all in the loop concerning My Son, The Actor, and his takes and retakes saga!

There is no rest for the weary, so they say, and in my son's case, this was a bonafide fact. His scheduled wrap day actually began with another conference call, with a different individual ~ *the* director of the project he was being considered for. Such a call was a tad unprecedented. Unique. To be valued.

Acting as his personal assistant, I, the mother, took avid notes, whilst my son spoke with the Hollywood Mogul, who was doing what he does best: directing the actor, and asking for some minor changes in his presentation.

And, oh. Could we have that by tomorrow, please?

Gulp.

It was a repeat of two days earlier, when the highly acclaimed Casting Director had asked the same thing. Of course, came the response, knowing then that the day was going to be wild and wooly!

The evening was not just wild and wooly, it was loud and rambunctious, and the sort of 'going away party' any teen might desire in his heart of hearts . . . our apartment, once roomy and spacious, was now filled with four adults, one of them being my son's agent, six teens, and four youngers, plus L'il Man, just for good measure! Who cared if the night was interspersed with rehearsing lines with his castmates, and doing yet more 'takes and retakes' attempting that perfect shot to submit?

Our efforts paid off in the wee hours of the next morning, when, apartment vacated by well-wishing party-goers . . . (I mean . . . advisors to the new project!) and I began the process of editing and preparing for transmittal. And we had yet to pack. Egads.

We managed to do it all, astoundingly. Sleep would simply have to come later, at some future date when time was no longer of the essence.

We boarded the plane the next morning, knowing without a doubt that The Actor had done his very best, no regrets.

Our job now was the infamous job of all in this industry: wait.

. . . to be continued . . .