Hung airs this Sunday on HBO (and-HBO-Canada-thank-god). I’ve muddled around with the title of this space over the past few months. It’s been Amellywood, I don’t know what to call my blog and probably something else at 3 am for a few minutes before I hastily changed it back. Through the latter half of 2009 until spring of 2010 I composed roughly 200 entries; some angry, some heartfelt and some a little too personal… even for a blog that’s fundamental element is a personalized experience. Since last summer the post-rate has slowed considerably. For a few months, I scrapped it entirely because there wasn’t anything to write about that fell under the original inspiration to start the page. Ultimately I took pride in the number of words and thoughts (and rants) even though most have been made private. (There’s a methodology behind that, mind you. I’m going to string them all together one of these days into something bigger.) There is something to be said for a verbal chronology of your career. Especially when that career arc mixes so fully with your person. As an actor, this wasn’t always true for me, but it is now. To steal a phrase from Stephen Lewis, working at acting feels as right and as good as breathing.
I’m sticking with the original title because I’ll always be in the Prelude. This Sunday you can catch my name in the opening credits of the Sunday night block on HBO. Fucking Sunday Night on HBO. That is everything I’ve written about for 2+ years… and yet, all my thoughts center around wanting something more. The more isn’t monetary. And it certainly isn’t connected to a Q-Rating or Louis The Dog and I appearing in US Weekly. (Though, that would be lovely.) The more revolves around sustaining the sense of calm doing something I love for a living has given to me. Another job is never, ever, guaranteed. So you just keep hustling.
Enjoy the show everybody. (Fucking HBO!)