Friday, November 25, 2016

2015 and 2016

For two years, you need a highlights reel (Mostly Brendan's career news):

2015 - 2016
Jes and Lora (I play Jes): 21 Festivals, including several international, several awards, including Best Short Film, and a UK distribution deal!
Speedwriting (I support with a comically hapless waiter): Many festivals!
Catherine (I play Henry Tilney): well-received play at the 2015 Hollywood Fringe Festival. Stina wrote it!
Gift of the Magi (I play Narrator and Jim and all the minor roles.): Such fun to play every year at our favorite tea shop, Red Dragon Cafe. Boy, we really love that place.
Lazy Lyin' (Charlsey Miller and I!): hosted several open mics and are co-producing a couple projects, including Antidote, in which I'll get to dance, and (fingers crossed) Ghost Best Friend, in which I'll get to pretend to believe in ghosts (again).
Ghost Coppers: Oh geez, you probably haven't even heard of Ghost Coppers yet. Here:
Beardy and the Beast: We won an episode of The Wrangle at The Clubhouse! (Improv, fyi)
Sunday Team: I'm on the Sunday Team at ComedySportz!
Florasoul: We're in post-production and getting very close to being ready to share this short film I co-wrote and star in with Kirsten Day with the world!
Up Down Stick Stuck (I play Brad, but that doesn't mean anything to you unless you've seen the play, and if you've seen the play, you've seen me play Brad.): We won an Encore award and were nominated for the Best Ensemble Theatre award.
Added a manager to my team, Almost Famous Talent Management. These are very kind people. I'm so glad to have them. And I continue to be repped by Pacific Talent!
Celebrity Name Game: Spoiler Alert Stina and I did not win. But we are delightful. So many of our friends have also been on that show. We're running in a very special crowd of people who are perfect contestants.
BookPALS! I've been a bookPAL for a while now! I get to read to kids in school!
Gentle Werewolf: submitted to a contest. I've never done that with this script before. Let's see if it's all that AND a bag of chips?
Comic Book Heroines and Cyberpunks: some projects for 2017 already! And I think, I hope, we'll be turning more of Stina's scripts into movies. Especially Camp and In for a Penny.

Why did you buy a new houseboat? For the Halibut. Really? No, my landlord changed the lox. Why? Because the neighbors complained about all the parties I was throwing on my perch!...

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Career-sy bragging

After booking several SAG-AFTRA gigs in a row,
Brendan joined and is now a proud union member!
He stars in Top Decking, a web series that's a hit
with players of Magic: the Gathering. He's had
guest appearances on a dozen other web series,
including some memorable naked ukelele playing
in Twentysomething and a heartwrenching turn in
Jane. He appears regularly in sketches for We Make
Movies and Daily Fiber Films, including festival
picks Sandals (LA Comedy Shorts) and What's
Inside (WMM Fest).
Within a month of joining SAGAFTRA,  Brendan
played roles that couldn't have been more different
in two short films: Speedwriting, in which he
played a goofy, hapless waiter, and Euphoria, in
which he played a classic romantic leading man.
His next big role is as Jes. Living with a damaged
brain, Jes' trying to stay alive on a chaotic journey.
Brendan returned to the stage for Four Tree Plays, 
a Hollywood Fringe Festival Nominee for Best 
World Premiere. Riding that success, he's in Gift of 
the Magi for the 2014 holiday season. 

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Art and Money

I am now a member of two unions, SAG-AFTRA (One Union!) and AGVA (which is mainly for characters in theme parks). Yay for me, yay for them!

I recently saw a tweet that included the line "Never work for money..." in the context of screenwriting. After a very short Twitter conversation, I was told that I was taking the line out of context and to get off my soapbox. 

Here's the thing: in or out of context, I believe that this quotable quote, which we've heard before, was invented by the people who make money off of other people's work.

Now on its surface, it's pretty innocuous. Of COURSE we should make art because of almost any reason at all except for money. OF COURSE art made for the sake of money is less inspiring. (Not "of course", but that's not what this post is about.)

But that quote is really insidious. It makes the artist feel shame about demanding fair compensation for his or her labor. We are supposed to love what we do, to be doing what we do for the love of it, not the money, so why would we expect to be compensated for it? We're supposed to trust the corporations that monetize our art to compensate us fairly.

But the corporations have no such idealistic principles. Or... well, they do. They have a financial ideal. To create the greatest profit. And here's the thing:

If they can pay you less, they will.

None of this is earth-shattering. We know that's how capitalism works. I'm just adding to the conversation that this insidious little phrase, "Never work for money," in any context undermines the professional artist who is selling his or her labor for money. Thank goodness I have a union that can do the struggling for finances for me, because I'm too in love with doing my work to refuse to do it if I don't get paid. They protect me. (And so does my agent: Shoutout to Pacific Talent for their labor and how they look out for me)

But also, don't get into the arts for the money. There isn't much. There are many easier ways to make a living. I recommend you learn coding. It's fun and salable. 

Monday, June 23, 2014

Grocery shopping

A break from the career updates to talk about one of our favorite things: saving money.

We've noticed a lot of people don't pay much attention to the price of groceries. This is always absurd, but especially here. I could be mistaken, and I don't have a large data set to back me up, but I would guess that L.A. is one of the places with the largest difference between high-priced groceries and low-priced groceries in the U.S. On the one hand we have what I'll call "health conscious wealthy" and on the other hand, we live in the midst of one of the most productive farming regions in the U.S., so supply is high.

All of this is to say: you can buy groceries for $$$$ or for $/5.

Here are our tips for L.A. Some of them can be generalized.

1. Know the lowest common price for things, and don't buy above that. Onions are a great example. Onions are frequently 5 or 6 lbs for $1. They are also frequently 1 lb for $1. Just wait.

L.A. specific knowledge (lowest common prices):
Produce (per pound)
Potatoes: $0.10-0.20
Tomatoes: $0.50
Apples: $0.50
Bananas: $0.33
Mangoes: $0.33 per each
Watermelon: $0.20
Broccoli: $0.50
Parsley: $0.33 per bunch
Spinach: $0.80
Grapefruit: $0.33/per each
Oranges: $0.20
Squash: $0.50

Pasta: $1/lb
Bread: $2/24oz loaf
Milk: $3.19/gallon
Eggs: $0.15/egg

2. Go to multiple stores. I don't mean waste your time (and gas/electricity, if you're one of the many death-machine drivers out there) visiting a bunch of different stores on each shopping trip. I mean, each time you go out for groceries, visit a different store, and buy the well-priced items.

Bread is over-priced at our neighborhood grocer, so we go to the Food4Less for bread. But the produce prices can't be beat at Edi and Peter's so we go there for that. And the 99 cent store has the best price on half-n-half. Trader Joes is good for... um... people that don't like to think about how much they're spending, but don't want to pay quite as much as they would at Whole Foods. Stina says I'm being unfair. There are a few things there that are comparable to elsewhere, like dairy. Vegetarian meat substitutes are better there. And they're slightly cheaper than a non-taco restaurant. And they sell Mochi Ice cream. So does California Market on Kingsley, though, and they have a lot of fun, cheap, uncommon produce too.

3. It's okay to not buy things. I mean, you still need to eat, but if, for some reason, you find you're all out of milk, and you're at Edi and Peter's, consider yogurt instead, and do without milk for a few days. Also, is a protein bar really a better choice than a sandwich filled with produce? Is the Whole Foods salad bar ever a good choice? No. No it isn't. Get out of there! Or if you're really stuck starving and Whole Foods feels like your only option, opt for the minimum that will sate your immediate need. An overpriced loaf of bread for $5 is better than an overpriced salad bar for $15. You can get your nutrition elsewhere.

4. Eating out or ordering delivery is a special event. Except tacos. Tacos are cheap, nutritious and everywhere. Because salsa is a thing. If anyone wants to go out, always suggest tacos.

5. Don't fall for the hype. Warehouse stores like Walmart, Target, and even the much-lauded Costco rarely have the best prices on groceries. They often have loss leaders, like milk, for cheap, so you'll assume all their prices are good, but if you really total things, the above tips will save you money.

Aren't you glad you saved hundreds of dollars? Feel free to thank me with it.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

How to Act Like a Good Actor in a Kajillion (Sixteen) Easy Steps

Hi reader.

This is not acting 101. That's down the hall. This is acting 001. This is the class you should take before you approach the stage.

You probably know me in real life. Let's pretend you don't for a minute and I'll give you my qualifications.

I began my serious theatrical training as a kid at First Stage Milwaukee. It was also there that I began my professional career, working with directors and actors who were often the same actors that belonged to the Milwaukee Rep, the Spring Green Players, and other regional theaters. It must be understood that my early training came in the professional theatre, from those at the top of the game, and that I never knew that this wasn't the norm. The lessons I learned there should be the norm, and they're what you'll be learning today.

I have since gotten my B.A. at the University of Washington and been a professional actor in Los Angeles for the past 3 years. I also spent several years as a stage manager.

The following rules are so important that I would rather work with a pile of gloop who follows these rules than Meryl Streep if she didn't (though I'm sure she does). These rules are not made to be broken, they're made to create a safe space. Some call them etiquette, but that's not a strong enough word. These rules are fundamental to the trust necessary to make art.

In your professional life:

1. No touching (without permission)
We learn this in grade school. I know, your 101 teacher says, "Touch is communication." or something. Great! Grand! They aren't inherently wrong. Touch is powerful. BUT ASK PERMISSION.

Improv, for better or worse, is a huge part of the audition process now. I don't know how many times I see actors who have never met smack, kiss, push... LIFT... their scene partner.

First of all, if you don't ask permission, you don't know what's going on. MAYBE (and this isn't remotely unlikely) they have an ailment: recent surgery, chronic back pain, a compromised immune system. Maybe you even know them- know them well, even, but it just happened this morning that they twisted their ankle.

Listen. If you haven't asked permission of your fellow actor to touch them, and you feel compelled to, transform that frustration into something good for the scene without touching them.

DON'T TOUCH. Not gently, not harshly, not at all. Accidents happen, but they needn't happen as often as they do. Be spatially aware if you're flailing. Losing yourself in the scene is not a sign that you're really acting well... it's a sign that you're dangerous. It's why rehearsals exist. So you can lose yourself in a way that signals to your fellow actors that you're not truly lost and dangerous.

2. Is just a reiteration of 1. Listen, we're not soldiers or fire-fighters. Ability to overcome fear of physical danger should not be a part of our interview process. I should not walk into an audition and know that I'm going to have to list off my specific ailments because my scene partner might want to lift me, smack me, kiss me. If we're going in together, we should talk about whether or not any of those things might happen, and our level of comfort with them... and we still probably shouldn't because stage combat is choreographed by professionals to be exceptionally safe, and is not just a matter of "well, I like roughhousing with my buddies". Is two full rules dedicated to the NO TOUCHING rule enough? Probably not, but I can see there's a point of diminishing returns, so let's move on.

3. Take the note.
Listen to the note and try to incorporate the note into your performance. Take the note.

Don't argue with the note. Maybe later, if you're not feeling good, talk to the ASM, SM, AD, or Director about what's not working for you (but probably not), but don't ever waste everybody's time by arguing with the note while they're standing around listening and before you've even tried it.

MAYBE you have a clarifying question. Probably not. If you think you do, ask yourself, "Do I really?" and while you're taking the time to do that, they will have moved past you, and we will all be thankful that you didn't get to ask your question. Of course, if something feels unsafe, take it to an AD. If the note you got was "Slam your head into that wall made of glass shards harder."... talk to the ASM before you get to that scene. And call the police. All well and good. Though ideally, you can figure it out, and they can give you a new note if it's still not what they want.

Let's back up. What? This is 001. What's a note? There are many circumstances in which you get notes. The most obvious is when there's a notes session after a run-through. Then there's getting some sideline coaching: the director is talking to you as the scene goes along, pushing you towards some choices... or maybe it's some blocking direction. I DON'T KNOW; I'M NOT THERE IN THE ROOM WITH YOU. Or... I dunno, the writer has new lines. That's kind of like a note.

In the moment that you get the note, there is nothing to be gained by arguing. You haven't tried it yet. Plus, it's a waste of everybody's time. Take the damn note. And if you can at all avoid it, no questions. If you're unsure, make a strong choice with what the note might mean next time you do it. Now, if you're flabbergasted, and you've gotten the note a second time, find a time when it's just you and (preferably) the stage manager or (if necessary) the director, and ask your questions. But in the moment you get the note, the whole company is probably there. They don't all need the answer to your question. Only you do (probably). So leave it between you and the SM or note-giver.

BTW: notes are anything that would influence your performance, including suggestions, commands, hints, questions, leading questions, and gestures. Also other things. I hope you know a note when you see one, but only experience will teach you truly how to identify the wild and pernicious note in its natural habitat. I'm not entirely certain what pernicious means.

4. Keep your notes to yourself.
You have your own notes for another actor? Shut up. You want them to do X so you can do Y? Shut up. If you really really really really have a good idea... well, maybe you do. Let the SM, ASM or AD know. They'll take it to the director, and they'll decide if it's good and pass it on to whomever needs it.


Under which circumstances? NONE. Nada. Nil. Not your f-ing job.

Why am I so angry? Because it's the internet. Shut up. I think it's funny when I tell imaginary people to shut up. I would never tell you real people to shut up. This is a thing I'm doing because it's the internet and all my subjects are imaginary. Shut up.

5. No one gives notes but the director (or Stage Manager, ASM or AD... you know).
Similar to 4, but don't take notes from someone whose job it isn't to give them. And by notes, I mean any suggestions or anything.  See BTW of 3. I would even be wary of designers giving notes. Basically, any note you get, take it to your ASM as a question.

5.1 is "respect the chain of command", I guess. Director>Stage Manager (AD)>ASM>You

6. Be efficient.
I mean, seriously, don't follow my example in this blog. I haven't been remotely efficient. But you. You should be an efficient actor. I don't mean that as an acting note. I mean, that's often good advice, but it's not one of these etiquette rules. What I mean is: fine, you're late. That sucks. You shouldn't have been late. I should add that to the rules. But now that you're late, apologizing is just going to take up time. A quick, quiet, "I'm sorry" during a 5 minute break is considerate. Any more is a waste of time. Interrupting the work to apologize is inconsiderate. If you broke rules 1 and 2, stop breaking those rules, but leave it to the Stage Manager or Director to stop the scene. If you're working on your own, without an SM or D, I dunno. Stop? Hopefully you didn't break those rules. Hopefully your scene partner is confident enough to stop you and make sure they aren't more injured than they might be. But hope is for kids on Christmas Eve. So do stop, if you have touched someone in an unrehearsed way. Take it on yourself. You done f-ed up.

But otherwise: Be efficient.

7. Don't break.
Jimmy Fallon has made a career out of breaking. Wonderful. The outtakes on DVDs? Wonderful. Don't emulate them. It's part of 6, but also its own thing. Belief is... something we'll get to. But wait for "cut" to break. Even if you think the take is ruined because your scene partner broke, if they didn't say "cut", stay in it. This goes for stage work with sideline coaching in rehearsal, too. Or Whatever. I'm not saying "Method" or "Daniel Day-Lewis". I'm not not saying that, either, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm saying: Stay in the reality of the imaginary circumstances, even when that's difficult. That's kind of the point. Your director is yelling, "Pinker, pinker... I said PLAY IT PINKER!" because your director is kind of bad at directing, and your scene partner is cracking up, because they think this'll be a great DVD extra, even though it's just a read-through for a stage show... No Exit and the Beast (a Disney/Sartre mash-up), in fact- YOU STAY IN YOUR MOMENT. Screw them and their inability to make art. You are Gaston, and there is nothing funny about hell to you.

8. Be on time.

9. Always be willing to run lines.
This is less a rule than a personal preference. I, Brendan, get too few opportunities to be in the same room as my scene partners. So I like to use those opportunities to run lines. I get it. Everybody needs a break. So it's not a rule. But I certainly like running lines.

10. Know your lines.

11. Rehearsal is always good.
WTF is with people who are like "I don't want to over-rehearse"? That's not a thing. If you feel over-rehearsed, you haven't rehearsed enough. Get to a point where you can find new, exciting choices because you're so comfortable with the material, it's not holding you back. When you have rehearsed enough, you are always excited to do it again. If that isn't the case, consider a career in not-acting. There's no reason to be in this game if you don't love it. Even if you're making money at it, get out of the way of the people who love it. Rehearsing is acting (and auditioning is acting). Love it. Love it or leave it.

12. Leave it all outside (or inside).
Leave your magnificent morning or awful afternoon at the "there is a world outside of this" coat check. Or in your magical imaginary treasure box. Or whatever. This space you enter: the one where you make art? It is purely for that art. You have been shaped by your life. Your training prepared you to be here. But now that you're here? Trust that it's all there, and leave it all outside, including preconceived notions about your training. Beginner's mind is a thing. Look it up.

Also leave it inside. When you leave that pure art space, leave it. If you take it with you, you'll muddy it. Still, you know, do your work, but always exit the "other world" space... This has left the etiquette rules bit and moved into esoteric theory territory. Let's leave it as: to make sure everybody is comfortable and safe, don't talk about what happened in rehearsal outside of rehearsal, and don't talk about what happened outside in life in rehearsal.

Like, they're two separate thoughts, really. To clarify:

Getting there and complaining (or celebrating) about your life violates rule 6.

Talking about what happened in rehearsal outside of rehearsal violates rule 16. (What? I haven't written that yet? Untrue. You just haven't read it yet.)

13. Go to the stage manager first (or ASM ... or AD).
Just... their job is to be the go-between between actors and production. They know best when to bring up things with the director so it doesn't slow anything down. Respect that.

14. Take your problems to someone who can do something about them.
If you have a problem with your paycheck, talk to payroll. If you have a safety issue, go to the SM. If you have a problem with... anything else I can think of, go to the SM. But don't complain to your fellow actors about something they can't do anything about.

15. Speak up.
In an appropriate fashion, if something makes you uncomfortable, tell the ASM or AD... unless they're the ones making you uncomfortable. Really. For all my ranting and yelling at imaginary internet people, your safety is paramount. Your comfort. Your ability to trust. Without it, you can't make art. Seriously. I mean, I guess there are legends of those incredibly awful sets that made good art... Like Kubrick or whatever... you know, there's this idea out there that suffering produces greatness, and if people weren't suffering before, they should be suffering because then they'll act better. I throw my hands up. I think people are capable of tremendous things. I think people perform better on all tasks when they have an environment they can trust. So if people are doing things that make you uncomfortable, tell someone in charge (or if it's the in charge people, call your union... if you don't have one, weigh the pros and cons of being a part of this production. You might still want to do it, but know that you won't be as happy with the outcome as you would like. Seriously. If it doesn't get better on set, you're not going to be pleased later).

You know what makes you uncomfortable better than me, so I won't give examples. But know that your small discomfort is worth letting someone who can do something about it know about it.

16. Be trustworthy.
And respect boundaries. I mean for reals. Keep secrets. Scoff at no one and nothing. If you have an idea that someone doesn't like something you're doing, stop doing it. And people share deep down moments and beauty with you when they're in the safe space. Don't violate that safe space by assuming (even in praise) that they want that shared elsewhere.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Stina talks about the 48 Hour Film Project

This is a blog that Stina wrote for the people who run the Los Angeles 48HFP:

Our group, the Collaborative Group Ensemble Troupe Collective, has been meeting for more than a year, experimenting with collaborative storytelling and film-making. 

Leading up to the 48HFP, we started practicing brainstorming techniques we might use the night of. We really liked something called Story Symphony, where people take turns making up a story. One person conducts the story by pointing at people. If you're being pointed at, you're telling the story, but as soon as the conductor points elsewhere, you stop, even if it's mid-word. The next person has to pick up exactly where the previous person left off. 

We played around with Story Symphony at our weekly meetings, trying to set ourselves up as if it really were the night of the 48HFP by picking a genre, a character, a line and a prop.

So the evening of the 48HFP rolls around and we are eagerly awaiting a text from our producer with the details so we can jump into Story Symphony. We get the info and we go. And everyone realizes that we're kind of sick of Story Symphony. We'd used up the novelty of it in our practice sessions. 

Ultimately our story idea came about through good old-fashioned brainstorming. 

"Ooh, how about someone goes to their car and in its place, there's a present?" 

"Yeah, and then . . ."

A could happen, or B could happen, or what if we go all crazy and jump to Z? 

We brainstorm up until about 9pm, then I go off and write the first draft. I come back to the group a couple hours later and we don't like the ending, so we brainstorm again and come up with a new ending. Then we all go home so the rest of the group (which comprised of our director and actors) can squeeze in some sleep while I finish writing.

I write up until about 3:30am, then call it good, email it out, and crash. About an hour and a half later I get a phone call from our director, who's now working on the shot list with our DP and 1st AD. They think it's too short. Over the phone, we brainstorm some ways to increase the tension (we drew Crime/Gangster) and lengthen it. I get back to work and send out the final draft around 5:45am 

48HFP is really all about collaboration, so it felt like the perfect opportunity for our group to put our skills to the test. Ultimately it didn't matter if we used Story Symphony the night of, because the technique had already benefited us as a group. We were ready to jump in with ideas and to build off one another's ideas. I wrote the story, but we built it together.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Productivity and happiness

I don't want to BS you. As you read in my last post, I was feeling a little disheartened, and if I were writing this post last week, you'd get a similar tone. But now everything seems delightful.

Even over the weekend, I waffled on the value of skill in acting. But that's the thing about art. There's not a right way every time.

So on with the series called: How do you make it?: My Path

Alright, what's been going on?

Last weekend I directed my first fully-crewed film. The 48 Hour Film Project challenges teams to make a short movie from script and pre to screen in 48 hours. Our team met that challenge. And we used several collaborative exercises to make sure the whole collective's voice appeared in it. Then Stina wrote the final script, and BAM! We have a murder mystery.

People are asking me if I got bit by the directing bug. No. I did not. I enjoyed it, yes. I felt good about it. I was happy with it. But my passion lies in acting. I would certainly direct again, but there is no dearth of directors in L.A. and I don't want it as badly as they do. The acting. That I want badly.

So on to that. Mostly.

The quick stuff out of the way. My agents got me an audition for a feature film. This is the first time they've done that, but not the last I'm sure. I am thrilled. I had the audition last week and got a callback for tomorrow. Boo ya. Also had a delightful commercial audition that I just got home from. We were the third to last group before lunch, and the session runner acknowledged his own hunger-crankiness, but my group followed directions well and got in and out with positive energy, and it just felt nice to be making someone's day easier. And he was grateful and nice. PLEASANT EXPERIENCES WOOHOO!

That brings me to 2 weeks ago. I had two commercial auditions in a day. I arrived at the first one as I always do: early, so I could prepare strong choices (they hadn't given sides ahead of time). I enjoyed my waiting room time, as the CD's kid eagerly greeted each actor and told them where to go. I was feeling fully ready. Gave myself some time to breathe. When I was up, I was the first after the explanation. Everybody left the room. I got comfy in my position, and ... just felt blah. Hurried. Unable to breathe. Not literally, but... kind of literally. ("inspiration, respiration, perspiration"). The role was perfect for me. It was mine if only I acted "right" and that's where I got in my head. I thought, "There's a right way. I gotta find it and do it. And oh no! It's not what I thought it was." I censored myself, and tried to make new choices without breathing them through, and wound up kind of muddled, I thought.
Ultimately, I pushed through, of course. Tried to give the session runner what he was asking for, but I was lost. It wasn't awful by any means. But it was just... blah. I left with fine energy, I thought, but who knows. There was some self-doubt worming its way through me. Also, I was hungry. Good lord, food is important. Of course, if I had booked it, this would be a different story, wouldn't it?
But two in a day? I have a second chance. As I was sitting in the waiting room for the second one (for which I felt slightly more prepared because we had gotten sides ahead of time), I wondered what, within my control, I could have done differently for the first one. Take that time to breath if I feel rushed, of course. But I always remind myself of that, and it still flew out the window. Had a snack ready, is another one. I had eaten a decent breakfast, but I know waiting room times can be long, and that, coupled with travel and ... whatever I do between breakfast and audition, plus the energy burning nature of my warm-ups means... a sense of empty belly right when I need to feel satisfied by a candy bar or whatever. Or just feel anything other than that most primal of needs: the food-need. So, a snack.
What else? I know, logically, how important confidence is. I hear it. I observe it. I think I usually exude it. (Just as a note: confidence and cockiness are similar, but one (of several) key differences is that the confident person is prepared, and the cocky one isn't). But sometimes finding that confidence when... whatever... has awakened your internal censor is hard. So what could I do? And I happened upon something that worked for me. I thought to myself: Imagine your phone just buzzed with a new text. It says "NBC Comedy Pilot - YOU BOOKED IT! -Jeff"
Boom. Easy. This particular moment was key. I felt really good about that NBC audition. Booking it would change everything about where my career is. It gave me an exciting secret for that moment. And even if it had been true, I would do exactly what I was doing, except instead of being the only thing I booked that week, it would be another.
And I felt good walking away from that audition. I didn't book it either, but, you know, who knows why any given part goes to one person or another. Maybe - anything. Lots of stuff out of my control. But the one thing mostly under my control - my performance? I have no regrets.

But yeah. That's not even where we're coming to:

There's more. Three weeks ago, Daily Fiber Films contacted me and said (paraphrased), "We like your pitch, can you write a full script for your sketch? We'll shoot it in August." Whoop! Now, I'm not trying to be a writer. Again, that's not where my passion lies. I am best at acting, most experienced at acting, and most driven to act, but I also like working creatively in all fields. I liked directing last weekend, too, for example. I have been writing a lot since moving to LA, making my own stuff. And sure, I've contributed here and there to other people's projects. And shot my own projects ( But here was a new opportunity. Not me making my own stuff. Someone else making my stuff. And putting me in it. And we shot it yesterday. And I could not be happier. I felt strong, as an actor, AND as a writer. And I had so much fun... and Yes. OMG. just. I love Daily Fiber. And Mark And Raymond. And everybody who was in it.

And other people talked to me about playing a role in their webseries.

AND Gentle Werewolf is getting read:

So... the rest of today will be spent studying the feature script, and tomorrow I'm reading at We Make Movies in Brian Gaskill's piece (something dramatic to balance all the comedy I've been doing recently) after my callback and, all in all, everything feels pretty darn good.

Because work begets work and feeling productive begets happiness.

And the push for money:

We're making Top Decking, Season 2! We're 2/3 through our campaign and have raised 1/3 of the money necessary, so we need a big push. If you read this blog, consider making a donation. Any size, really. The $5 level is clearly the most affordable, but I'd like to ask you to consider the $25 level, since at that level, you get a DVD of the first season, and don't you want that?