Jennifer Parkhill Instagram – Part 3/3
I was an art-hungry kid spending my days in the aisles of the Samuel French bookstore on Sunset with my nose deep in Shanley, Rebeck, Lorca, Williams, Chekhov. And between that auditions, including the one where the woman waiting ahead of me to go into the casting office whispered into her phone, “I’m just gonna book this job,” then proceeded to slide her underwear off from beneath her skirt, wink at me while dropping them into her purse, and let out false moans of pleasure within moments of closing the casting office door behind her.
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My nights consisted of acting classes, waiting on tables, and reluctantly using fake ID’s to get into clubs where I could bump elbows with industry people, pass them my business card, and politely assuage their advances.
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I rented every movie Meryl Streep had ever done and wrote essays about them for my own pleasure. Just to quench a thirst, a need to be studious, or perhaps simply to consider myself something more than a pig on a spit for consumption. Anything to keep the flame of my intelligence, my love of stories, burning.
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Photographer: @rebeccathered
Director: Sean Salcido
HMU: @mylanmedrano
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