There's something addictive about the sound booth.
Tentatively approaching the stand... arranging the copy... throwing my hair up into a messy bun... slipping the warm, leather headphones over my ears... pulling on the cold steel of the mic rod until it's where I want/need it to be.
Breathing.
Hearing the muffled, static clicks and whirs as the sound tech works his magic through the double-glass on my left.
Breathing faster, knowing that moment is coming.
Shifting my weight, foot to foot, as I ease my heartbeat back to human levels.
Breathing deep.
Acknowledging the specs, scanning the copy, and... diving in.
Characters, voices, intonation, conversations, questions.
... I love this world.
Tentatively approaching the stand... arranging the copy... throwing my hair up into a messy bun... slipping the warm, leather headphones over my ears... pulling on the cold steel of the mic rod until it's where I want/need it to be.
Breathing.
Hearing the muffled, static clicks and whirs as the sound tech works his magic through the double-glass on my left.
Breathing faster, knowing that moment is coming.
Shifting my weight, foot to foot, as I ease my heartbeat back to human levels.
Breathing deep.
Acknowledging the specs, scanning the copy, and... diving in.
Characters, voices, intonation, conversations, questions.
... I love this world.
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I was actually down there working security for a photography company so they could document everything.