Prelude to a Big Break

A few things to discuss before I file an actual piece of writing:

• I am not in LA.
• I am mostly not on Facebook.
• If you venture west on Queen Street in Toronto, there is a 45% chance that you will run into me.
• I’m going to LA.
• I’m moving there permanently.
• This move will happen sometime between this Saturday and any day after this Saturday.

My work: Becoming an actor isn’t easy.  Becoming anything isn’t easy…  But there’s an idiosyncratic element for any arts-driven industry that is incredibly difficult for you, or anyone in your life, to understand.

Namely, the tether between financial success and professional accomplishment is incredibly long in the arts.  How good (or not good) you are at your vocation doesn’t always translate to an impressive financial portfolio.  Actors, musicians, writers, painters and any other niche in the arts have to arrive at this realization before their career can be fulfilling. 

Why, you ask?  (Glad I’m here.)

What is acting if the fiscal aspects of it dominate your thought process?  Well, then it’s just a job.  And if it’s just a job you might as well work 90 hours a week for a boss you don’t like at a company you don’t believe in with decent benefits and five weeks vacation.  That’s a hard path.  Which makes it ironic when people who go down that road give you the whole ”acting’s a tough industry” speech.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Acting isn’t a tough industry.  Insurance is a tough industry.  Welding is a tough industry. 

These people don’t think acting is “tough”, they think it’s unrealistic.  They think it’s foolish.  But they don’t have the temerity to use those words, so they call it something vague and gentle.  I’d feel sorry for people with such a narrow view of the world, but I honestly don’t have the time.

Which brings me, instead, to how I feel about myself as an actor.  About a month ago, acting stopped being my job and started being an extension of my personality.  That doesn’t mean that I’ve taken a shining to being disingenuous…  It means the pursuit of my craft has fastened itself to my spirit.  The work and the practice and the auditions and the self-tapes and the contract offers and the rejection have become my lifeblood.  I’ve never been happier, prouder or more interested in what I do.  I’m so grateful for that.

My first acting job was in 2004.  Six years later, I found my lane.

A self-tape shot from yesterday.  My favorite self-tape ever.

It’s all you can do.

Well…  It’s not all you can do.  You can listen to fantastical music.  Like this:

And this.  Absolutely this:

Need a pick me up?  Sure you do:

At the risk of being some combination of preachy/weepy/shortsighted/prophetic, let me just say this:

Things are never as bad as you think they are, and they’re never so good that you should self-congratulate to the point of excess.  Do your work, get your rest and be honest.  Always honest.  Never anything less than honest.  In other words; just keep calm and carry on.

I still don’t know what to write.

The narrative style of PTABB has to change for a variety of reasons.

I’m different. My life is different, from the core elements out to the periphery. The outlook and overarching goals that I have professionally have fastened themselves to my personal aspirations. One works in concert with the other.

(That last one is like a breath of fresh air, crossed with a rum and coke on the golf course and a dusting of Christmas morning for good measure.)

So maybe this site will be become more existential? Perhaps there’s room for motivation centric scribbling? Or maybe it’ll continue to serve as a public space for me to improve as a writer?

Let me just say this: There was anger in some of my earlier posts; sometimes passive, often overt, anger. That’s so embarrassing. That anger and angst is far gone.

For all the people who are finding the site, thank you. It’s been fascinating to watch the numbers over the past month. Fascinating and gratifying. So let me repay you with the promise that I’ll keep writing, I’ll keep telling the truth and I’ll keep taking pictures. Least I can do.

Sent from my iPhone.

I’m working on 3 things at the moment.  Acting, a permanent move to California and web design.  Acting = things are happening.  Perma-move to California = almost done.  Web design = busy.  That being said, it’s time to write something.  What should I write about?

I have a challenge for everyone:

Can you look at somebody and not project onto them?  Can you listen to them and take what they tell you about their life at face value?  Can you push aside any and every preconceived notion and open yourself up to an individual story?

It’s not an easy thing to do.  You meet somebody, you digest a piece of information and a keyword that relates (almost entirely) to your own personal experiences starts flashing in your mind.

Do you think that contributes to the betterment of your person?  Do you think that helps you learn something new?  Or do you think that instead of discovering something, you simply plot that individual on your own character spectrum?  This type of behavior isn’t malicious.  But it is a passive discrimination against everybody’s ability to be unique.

Take the challenge.  Let people tell you their story.  Believe them.

2010 strikes me as a sexy, sexy bitch.

Six days in and I’m off to a roaring start.  Consider the following discoveries:

Bon Iver.  Since there is a 1 – 5% chance you’ll read this, thank you.  “For Emma, Forever Ago” is a profound piece of music.  I love it.  I am in love with it.  It carried me through.

The Buzz Cut.

The rejection of materialism.  I’m in some sort of weird, “Hurricane Carter in prison” zone where the only thing that matters is the situation in front of me.  The long tail of a decision like this can’t be wrapped into a post.  Not because of time or complexity.  Putting it into words isn’t ever going to do it justice.  It’s just… a feeling.

Family.  I got to spend 2 wonderful weeks with my sister, Andrea, over the break.  She’s a teacher whose four months away from getting her Masters and she’s bilingual.  She also brought me a bottle of something from Mexico that is loosely described as the bastard son of Tequila.  I know it might seem like those two sentences are far apart… they aren’t.  Trust me.

I haven’t exercised since late November.  Just long walks with my pup.  Never, felt, better.  Gyms are overrated.  (Your ability to digest and believe the previous sentence does almost all the work in determining whether or not we can ever be friends.)

Christoph Waltz.  THAT’S A BIIIIINGOOOO!  It’s also the best performance I’ve ever seen in a film.  If you haven’t seen Inglorious Basterds, you shouldn’t even read the rest of this post.

Old friends.  If the friendship was good, it’ll always be there.  Eh Timbo?  Just keep calm and carry on.

One of the last long posts before I came back from California dealt with the supposition that something was missing from my audition process.  I surmised that coming so close, so often, couldn’t possibly be an accident.  I was right and I figured out how to fix it.  Now it’s on me.

2010…  *Slow Clap*

Rang in the New Year with my beautiful sister Andrea and 40 – 90 of our closest friends.  Has anyone ever had a bad experience on NYE when they go to a house party?  Of course not.

In Toronto until the end of the month.  Feeling nimble.  And I’m excited to start writing again.