3 Years in Los Angeles: Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

Before I moved to LA I asked every SF actor I knew who had attempted the "LA thing" for their advice. There seemed to be a general consensus that I was unlikely to see any traction until I'd been in LA at least three years. With that in mind, and knowing I'm just the sort of "cryin' ass little bitch" who would leave after just one year, I made a commitment to myself:

No matter how bad it gets. No matter how much I hate it. I have to stay in LA at least 3 years.

Today, August 1st 2010, marks my 3-year anniversary with the City of Angels. The question is: should I stay, or should I go?

To help myself answer that question, I have taken myself out on a date. I've imagined this date many times since arriving in LA. I imagined white table cloths, candles, fine silver, maybe a glass of wine or some sipping scotch. I would ruminate, then masticate, then ruminate some more. I would scratch my chin, and say "Hmmm..." in the delightful manner of esteemed intellectuals. I would order dessert and coffee. I would finish my last bite of tiramisu, sip my last sip, tip generously, and as I stood I would drop my napkin on the table. At the moment of impact, extraneous thought would leave my mind and all that would remain would be a stunning sense of clarity about acting, life, the universe, and everything.

That was the fantasy, here's the reality: My date is taking place in a Starbucks, not a fine Italian restaurant. I've sipped my last sip - through a green straw. Boy oh boy is real life different from the movies.

There has been no Siddhartha-style burst of enlightenment. Instead I've got an empty plastic cup, a tongue numb from chewing ice, and a mind just as muddled as the day before. Yet, nonetheless, I have reached a conclusion:

I'm staying in LA, and I'm staying in the acting game.

Thanks to all of my readers for keeping me company on this journey.

The Key To Productivity: Hate Your Work

I've only got 3 months until my August 1st, 2010 acting in Los Angeles "deadline". Realizing this, I entered a panic about what I have be doing with my time, and how I can maximize my remaining 3 months. I called up an old friend and lamented my slackerdom, begging for an explanation of how she avoids the siren song of the internet and instead burns the candle at both ends for months at a stretch. I've taken some liberties and translated her response into a credo of sorts:

Play your inner critic on full-blast. Allow yourself to believe that you're not good enough, that you're not doing enough, that you're falling behind. Live in a constant state of terror that everything you are doing will be laughed at and denigrated unless you work harder.

Given her laundry list of accomplishments, I knew it was an effective technique. But it was upsetting to think a person would do that to themselves. I didn't know if had it in me to live that way for the next 3 months.

So, for a different perspective, I called my productivity buddy Ilana and whined about my looming deadline and lack of work ethic. She cautioned me, saying "You can't set deadlines for success in an acting career, you don't deal those cards." To which I replied, "I know, I just don't feel like I'm working hard enough, and what I'm doing isn't good enough, I'm only:

• Attending weekly classes with Richard Seyd.
• Attending bi-monthly workshops at The Winner's Circle.
• Keeping up my improv chops at bi-monthly Groundlings classes.
• Going to 2+ Casting Director workshops each month.
• Co-Producing and Directing a short film that shoots in one week.
• Filming scenes from Donovan And The Vast Ancient Conspiracy.
• Rehearsing for and acting in a staged reading of a new play.
• Meeting bi-weekly for 3+hrs to write a screenplay for a feature film with my buddy Zak.
• Writing comedic monologues.
• Taking weekly voice lessons.
• Spending 30min/day 5 days a wk on craft (lines, cold reading practice, etc).
• Spending 30min/day 5 days a wk on marketing (mailers, thank you cards, submissions)."

And then I thought: Wait... that's actually a lot.

And then painfully I realized: That incredibly self-critical way of being that I wouldn't wish upon anyone... apparently I'm already living it, and have been for some time. I had no sense of how much I was doing because I was so good at telling myself it wasn't enough.

Self-criticism is a dangerously effective motivational tool, it can drive us to do superhuman amounts of work at our highest standard. However, it comes at a price: no matter how much we do, no matter how good our work, we'll never be able to fully appreciate our accomplishments; least of all while we're working towards them.

Live LA Street Traffic Information with Google Maps

Have you ever debated between surface streets and the freeway? Most traffic reports will tell you if the freeway is a mess, but they rarely tell you what's happening on surface streets. Well, now you can make an informed decision. Just go to Google Maps, calculate your directions and click on the Traffic button for a live overview of traffic on all the main surface streets. Invaluable for those last minute auditions in an area you've never been.

My Most Recent Project: The Butterfinger Warrior

So the contest video that I helped with a couple weeks ago, can now be viewed online:

http://protectyourbutterfingerbar.yahoo.com/?v=5I2IowxFP

I'm really impressed with how it turned out, they absolutely nailed the vintage Kung Fu look. Props go to Jake, his DPs, and the ninja-tastic leads.

Where's my mark on this masterpiece? Well, there's a 1 second shot where the Butterfinger is flying through the air screaming. I threw it in the air repeatedly until it achieved the right combination of height, arc, and placement over the lens. When I saw the flying Butterfinger in the finished piece I felt like a dad at his kid's first t-ball game.

Two Years in Los Angeles (An Introduction)

August 1^st, 2009 marked my 2^nd anniversary in Los Angeles. When I first moved to LA it was with the understanding that I would stay for 3 years to pursue an acting career, even if I hated it. Two years after initially making that commitment, I find myself in a city that is far more creative, inspiring, and welcoming than I ever could have anticipated. For the first time in my life since childhood, I am friends with my neighbors. I have constructed what I feel is a genuinely good life. I am still committed to an acting career, although I certainly seem to have lost some of the blinding energy I possessed when I first arrived.

I have simultaneously accomplished far less than I expected and far more than I could have imagined (I’ve circumnavigated the globe!). Over the coming weeks I’ll be blogging about my progress in various domains, how I feel about it, and what I have learned that might be of use to actors considering a move to LA.

For now, I leave you with what I found to be a strikingly beautiful video of the 2nd largest aquarium in the world with music by Barcelona. When I was a kid my parents oft took me to Sea World, home of Shamoo. I would wander off on my own. Aparently my parents never got too worried because they always knew where to find me: the giant aquarium. That boy must be alive and well in me because I sat transfixed when I watched this video; it's as beautiful as the silver-shimmering giant tuna were when I was five. May it bring a moment of peace to your day…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7deClndzQw

Thanks to the talented and charming Louise On The Left for tipping me to this great video.

---EDIT---

My mother read the above post and sent me an emil to set the record straight on her parenting. Below is her (assuredly more accurate) version of events:

We had a seasons pass to Sea World, where you wanted to go almost every weekend. You were going on three when we moved to Hanford, so you were somewhere between the ages of beginning to walk and 2.5. Once you got in the aquarium, you completely forgot we existed, which was pretty amazing for a toddler. We always knew where you were...

Mantras, The Secret, The Pull and The Push.

It seems that every generation a fad sweeps through the Los Angeles acting community promising to deliver its believers from anonymity and into stardom. Actors seem especially succeptible to these memes. Perhaps it's because they believe in the imaginary for a living ("I'm MacBeth!") and cling to the thought that they will be the exceptional actor that succeeds lest they collapse into a quivering mess in response to the futility of it all.

In the 80's the fad was having a mantra. There was a belief that if you chanted "I am famous, I am famous, I am famous," it was impossible for you not to become famous. This was cleverly captured by Woody Allen in "Annie Hall." In a scene at a Hollywood party, Jeff Goldblum's character is on the phone and clearly distraught "I forgot my mantra!"

This generation's version of this phenomenon is something called The Secret. The thought being, that if you think long and hard about what you want, you will get it. Lambourghini? Yours if you just think about it. The Universe, you see, is duty bound to deliver one to you. Just be careful how you think about it, because that Lambourghini may be "attracted" into your life in the form of a head-on collision.

There is some good to mantras and The Secret. Thinking about what you want to achieve is the first step in getting there. Concentrating on your goals can help you break the icy paralysis that is self-doubt. The failure of both philosophies (at least as they are commonly practiced) is that they remove the need for personal action: all responsibility is placed in the hands of "The Universe". Left unchecked, these philosophies can lead to a self-righteous narcissism and sense of entitlement that is despicable; an attitude that pervades much of Los Angeles and serves as justification for NorCal's general distrust of all things SoCal.

An actor turned casting director I met once said:

"I had the pull to be an actor, but I discovered I didn't have the push. Once I figured that out, I got into casting."

That phrase really stuck with me. It's not enough to have a desire to be successful. Anyone can want to be a successful actor. The "pull" is the easy part. Where most people find themselves lacking is in the "push" column.

Do you have the strength of purpose and drive to do more than just give it "the good ol' junior college try?"

I know that I have the pull, but I vascillate daily on whether I think I have the push. Am I actually working as hard as I need to to get what I want? Or am I the moral equivalent of a sucker sitting alone in sweatpants mumbling "I am famous, I am famous, I am famous..."

Has LA Changed You? Or: Remembering Your Passions

Have you ever gone through your life, business as usual, only to have something shovel-smack you in the face and remind you that you have neglected what once was an important part of yourself?

This video, of a Camp Jitterbug Jump Session, did just that:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcsyUhZgcps

When I was living in the Bay Area, swing and blues dancing was an essential part of my life. I'd go out dancing 1 - 4 times a week. I'd practice steps at home. I even taught swing dancing as a Choice Day elective at East Bay Arts, hoping to spread some of the joy.

Then I moved to Los Angeles, and I stopped dancing. I went out a couple times, but it just wasn't the same. My friends weren't there, I'd have to drive too far, and alone. It didn't seem worth the effort. So I stopped trying.

Knowing my birthday was fast approaching, and unaware of my distance from dancing, a dear friend in the Bay Area plotted a gift. Despite an incredibly busy schedule, she started taking lindy hop classes so that we might spend more time together in my favorite environment: the dance hall. On the week of my birthday, I came up to visit her and my other friends. She took me out dancing. I was hesitant at first (Would I be any good, being so out of practice?), but eventually I gave in a had a fantastic evening. It was quite possibly the best gift I had ever received.

But a return to LA, meant a return to dancing apathy. When my friend would come to visit, she would propose an evening of swing dancing, but I never had the heart for it. "The drive's too long." "Eh, doesn't sound like fun." "I'm tired, how about we catch a movie?" I had become apathetic about something I truly loved, I let the city beat me into submission. In so doing, I failed myself, and I failed my friend.

I'm sometimes asked: Has LA changed you? To which I reply, "No I don't think so, I think I've done a pretty good job of holding on to who I am." Seeing this video, knowing I've neglected a part of myself and afraid I've hurt a very giving friend, I'm not so sure.

Kung Fu Panda Screening & After Party

My friends Phil "Captain 3D" and Deepa invited me to see an animators' screening of "Kung Fu Panda" earlier this evening. Both Phil & Deepa are employees at Dreamworks Animation – the folks that brought you Shrek. Phil is the "global director of stereoscopic digital photography" or some other equally long title for "the guy that makes 3D animated films fly out of the screen at your face." Deepa works in the texture department and is currently making computer generated buildings look like they're made out of real concrete, steel, and glass. Most of Phil & Deepa's friends work within the animation industry, and were already invited to the screening, so they brought me along as their plus one.

The screening was held at Grauman's Chinese theater – the space was done up in deep reds with gold accents, a significant improvement over the slightly dingy digs I first experienced when I saw "Judge Dredd" in the theater 13 years ago. "Kung Fu Panda" is Dreamworks' latest foray into the world of animated animals, and the martial arts theme made it seem right at home in Grauman's. I have to say that "Panda" is probably my favorite of the Dreamworks Animation films. The action sequences kept me engaged the whole time, and the jokes were funny without resorting to a panacea of pop culture references.

After the film ended, the thousands of animators that filled the theater took to the streets – inciting one taxi driver to let out a genuine NYC-style honk at the pedestrians crossing illegally. We all poured into the Roosevelt Hotel and made a B-line to the bar to make the most of our Dreamworks-sponsored bottomless cups. On the way to the bar, Phil went over to talk to a gentleman who was introduced as Jeffrey while I ate a complimentary cupcake. As Phil and I waited in line for the buffet, I asked him who Jeffrey was – turns out he was Jeffrey Katzenberg, the head of Dreamworks animation.

While Phil was away on his colleague-chit-chat adventures I spent most of the evening hanging out with Deepa. I started talking about my plans to take a trip around the world with Gabriel to make a feature film and Deepa asked if I was going to visit India. "If you do, you should stay with my family. My mother is very friendly!" So it seems I might actually know someone in India outside of the wonderful guy who helped me troubleshoot my DSL connection a few months back.

News Flash: American Sign Language is the new Spanish! This is to say, if you are going to speak a second language in California, it seems that ASL is the one to know. Deepa is deaf and normally has to read lips and use contextual cues to figure out what it is everyone is talking about. However tonight one person in almost every group we met spoke ASL to a greater or lesser degree. A lighting director's wife taught ASL to underprivileged kids, one of Deepa's supervisors took ASL classes to better communicate with Deepa, another woman's father lost his hearing in Vietnam, and still another was learning ASL to speak with her neighbor's daughter. It's an absolutely gorgeous language - I was surprised by how much and how little I understood by "reading hands" and using context clues.

Later in the evening, Phil was talking with another person that seemed to be a friend. I introduced myself as Donovan and asked "I'm sorry. And you were?" to which the man replied "Conrad". "Good to meet you." Conrad it seems is the director of Dreamworks' next film "Monsters vs. Aliens". Oh, and he directed "Shrek II" one of the highest grossing films of all time.

Having met both the head of a major film studio and the director of Shrek II without knowing who they were in the moment, I started to wonder… Is it better to not know so that I can have a genuine experience, or is it better to know so that I don't ask questions like "So what's your role with the production?" "I'm the director. Without me you wouldn't be eating the free food tonight you dip shit!"*?

*This is an entirely hypothetical dialog that I might have with a director like David O. Russell.

Newcomer’s Orientation

This evening I shared a meal with a gentleman named Gabriel. We met in an on camera acting workshop taught by Bobby Weinapple, a man who exemplifies the best parts of bay area crunchy liberalism. In a hole-in-the-wall Thai noodle shack in San Francisco Gabe and I shared our visions of coming down to LA to live the dream. We kept in the lightest of touch through Facebook. As things would have it, I made my trek down to La La Land about 10 months before him. So it was me who got to play the role of wizened sage when we met up today at Thai Patio at the intersection of Thai Town and Little Armenia in Hollywood.

Our conversation wound through geography, up to work, finding comfort at craft, climbing to relationships, falling to raunch, and oscillating to a delightful hum in the realization that we shared similar ideas about how it was we wanted to find success in this town. We agreed that it was a bad idea to sell our souls, but that there might come a time when we would have to; just not yet. The key, we discovered, is that no matter what you do in this town or what this town does to you – you have to live your life. So it might as well be the life you want to live.

I will share with you, faithful reader, the one piece of advice from our dinner that I feel genuinely qualified to give. It will come to you by way of anecdote.

When I first moved to LA there were only two things that I truly could not stand about the town: traffic, and parking. Every night I'd drive home sighing my frustrations at the cars streaming before me in an endless parade of red brake lights. When I got to my apartment, my supposed sanctuary, I found no place where my Mitsubishi Galant could rest it's weary tires. I would circle, and circle, and circle in search of parking. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 23 minutes and not one fucking space in this block?! Eventually I reached a point of such extreme frustration that I would park five or six blocks away because, well, spaces were available. As this became routine, I stopped searching for parking near my home. What used to be a 20 minute quest became a ten minute walk home and a ten minute walk out to my car. A curious thing happened because of this new strategy, a certain buoyancy entered my step, the stresses of the day rolled off my shoulders and by the time I joined apartment key with apartment lock I was happy, renewed, and refreshed. What once felt like a punishment, exacted upon me by the forgotten Gods of Olympus, was now an expected pleasant part of my day. My time commitment hadn't changed, searching for parking and walking both ways averaged to the same 20 minutes. But I had shifted my mindset.

A Joke:
A man walks down the street and sees another man lying in the street. The standing man asks the supine man "What on earth are you doing lying in the street? You're going to get yourself killed!" The horizontal man replied "I'm saving this parking space! I was so excited to find it I sent my wife out to buy a car."

Don't be the man in the road. Leave early, park where there are spaces, and enjoy the walk to your destination.

LA Gets a Bad Rap

Say what you will about LA being populated with superficial people who have been injected with enough Botox to prevent their Grinch mouths from smiling even as they stab you in the back. I don't know enough about the city to accept or reject those claims outright. But I can tell you that there are certainly people and places that don't reflect the commonly promoted stereotype.

While the concept of thousands upon thousands of artists coming to pursue their bliss in the entertainment industry Mecca only to find frustration and failure is horribly tragic, there is a beauty in it as well. Tonight I attended a birthday party for my friend Whitton, an actress and blues dancer that I first met at the ACT Summer Training Congress a few years ago. I found myself surrounded by actors, musicians, dancers, animators, and writers – all of whom were engaged in the simultaneously geeky and sexy enterprise of ballroom dancing. I talked with various people at the party about their art, their goals, their concerns, and their day jobs. The through-line was passion; these artists were passionate about their work and were excited to be doing it. That is where I find the beauty in LA. While it may be hell for all of its inhabitants eventually, for each new arrival surrounded by other idealists Los Angeles, city of angels, is a Utopia.