I'm just gonna go ahead and do this, and see how it turns out.
(Also, I'm kinda curious how many canned Christian Vocabulary Words I can collect in my comments from people don't know (and people I do).)
Here goes:
In an effort to actually know the book that I claim as a foundational element of my spiritual existence and my understanding of the world (and also in response to a new found respect for and interest in God as a high priority in my life) I've taken to [mostly] daily bible reading. It's a touch ad hoc, the bible such as it is, and because I'm not doing the "powerhouse" thing I usually try to do (which would be reading the silly thing from cover to cover). So I've ricocheted around the smaller epistles [letters] in the new testament, and kicked around a few chapters in Isaiah and elsewhere in the old.
Today, I think I started to land on study that draws more than a cursory portion of my attention. I opened the letter of James (right after Hebrews and before Peter's letters).
Let me just work through the personal poignancy of this stuff piece by piece. [NASB, for those who care]
1:2-3 Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.
I have heard this passage before. It always struck me as curious, but there's much of Christianity that is curious and counter-intuitive to our natural human instincts. But reading this entire sentence shed a whole new light on it. Who doesn't like endurance? And, assuming that you're interested in having faith, who wouldn't like faith with endurance? Eh?
I'm certainly in trial land right now. The long, lonely days of truck-driving, followed by the frenetic, uncertain months of Hollywood have been nothing if not trying...spiritually, financially, and relationally. I knew that it was to my benefit (somehow, somewhere, deep in my subconscious) but I could never invoke any actual biblical truth to back up that nagging suspicion. But now, there it is. "The testing of your faith produces endurance."
It gets better.
1:4 And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
Now, I'm not going to pull out the concordance here. I'm not a Greek scholar. I'm not going to belabor this dual occurrence of "perfect". Suffice it to say this: whether or not James means "perfect" in the literal sense, it dawned on my that the point he's making is totally clear. Endurance of faith, like endurance of the body, evens out one's experience, so that it's consistent. Imagine a marathon. If your endurance is trained into you, you don't deviate from your pace, and subsequently avoid deviating from your path, not needing to stop. You can complete the course (a predetermined amount of time and distance) without stopping or quitting. In the sense of a temporal, finite thing, your endurance has afforded you a perfect and complete experience, and you haven't found yourself short on energy or capacity. I know it's not a flawless analogy, but it illustrates the point, no? My life is a bit longer and a bit more metaphysical than a marathon, but it is a certain, finite period. 1:1 is the ratio of death. So in that finite period, enduring faith affords me a more consistent (more perfect, if you will) spiritual and relational experience. There's less wandering around, wondering if I've got things figured clearly.
Speaking of wandering, the biography continues:
1:5 But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.
Pretty categorical, right? Such confidence is definitely not contemporary or popular. There's more.
1:6 But he must ask in faith without doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind.
If "driven and tossed by the wind" doesn't describe my life for the last half-decade, I don't know what has. I've doubted every decision I've made, to one degree or another, at various times, pretty universally to my pain and detriment (not to mention to the pain and detriment of others). Put 5 and 6 together, and you get a pretty amazing concept. It's a concept I hereby resolve to put into practice, with God's help. Driven and tossed is for the birds.
Also, as a closer to the concept:
1:7-8 For that man [who doubts] ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.
This elicited a burst of laughter as I read it. It might, at first, sound a little chilly. But it's simply true. It's not a judgement that James is casting on doubters, it's an observation of what happens in the doubter's mind. "Unstable", or its Greek equivalent, penned two millenia past, hits me square between the eyes. When I doubt that God will provide for me wisdom, clarity, guidance, and material sustenance, I am the epitome of unstable. Literally: when I, the writer, doubt, I, the writer, am horrendously unstable. Also, "double-minded" is a paint of my particular shade. Let me review (I could go back to previous posts and actually quote myself, but I'll spare you that): "I want to act. Do I really? Yes I do. God built me to do this. Really? Yes. No. Maybe. Maybe writing is better. Should I quit the acting and go for writing? Maybe. No. Yes. No. Maybe. Maybe I should chuck it all and go for something stable and responsible. No. Maybe. No. Maybe. Yes--no--maybe. A day job in S.California with writing on the side! Yes. Yes. Yes...."
No. Is it any wonder that God has to drop bombs on my life to get my attention? A random email arrives from an agency and the whole shootin' match is turned on its head.
Says God:
Act, dummy, it's what I put you there for. Do it, following My Word and My guidance and My example. Look at Me, and learn about Me, and remember that My glory is the reason you exist. Quit looking for the answers for why I sent you this way. The answer is always apparent in retrospect. The more you search for The Answer, the less you're trusting me, and becoming the beacon you're supposed to be.
So the money is tight, and I don't know what's coming in the future. I do know that our church, the leadership of which barely knows me from Adam (if you'll excuse the phrase) has seen fit to give us gift cards for groceries and gas. I also know that yesterday somebody happened to cancel their photo shoot on the 27th, and I got the bump up to that date (a full week earlier than before)...and only because I happened to call earlier that day to work out final payment on the shoot.
The reassurance that this is our path, wherever it eventually leads, is so strong that, for the very first time, I ask for the wisdom and strength to endure, and for the resources to pay my debts with no doubts or double-mindedness...perhaps it is somewhat because of my confidence in God that these blessings keep raining down. It's a pretty glorious chicken-egg scenario.
There's a final bonus. I've always doubted whether I could give God glory for any accolades that I might receive in my life. Not any more. If soever I'm blessed enough to be honored for my work, God is the first One to get props for it. I cannot now nor ever in the future deny that whatever comes in my life, it's Him that made it possible.
To close, a quote:
He that does not see the hand of God in this is blind, sir...blind. - General T.J. "Stonewall" Jackson
The man fought and died for a losing cause, indeed, we understand a flawed cause...but he knew something that most miss. God directs the purposes and actions of all mankind, whether right or wrong, to the fulfillment of His plan.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I write these posts, like most things shorter than a few pages, in a completely linear fashion. There's no preparatory outlining. I sense that, perhaps, if I modified my writing "style" to actually include some kind of disciplinary formatting and forethought, I might just write a bang-up blog. That said, I don't yet. So, let this paragraph serve as the awkward, totally disconnected cold-open for the event related paragraphs that follow.
My Facebook status says "Mark Saienga is represented." That is, that is what my Facebook status would read if Facebook still had status updates instead of the stream-of-consciousness twitter-rivaling blurbs they've got now. If I want to do stream-of-consciousness, I blog (see above). The "is represented" part is the interesting part.
I went to the meeting at MMi on Monday. It went well.
It went well.
I had to stare at that sentence long enough that I needed to re-write it. It feels like one of those sentences that needs so much unpacking, the contents seem impossible to repack after they've been examined.
Alicia always says, "I want a play-by-play!"
Perhaps that's best.
I had to take the 405 to Santa Monica Boulevard in order to get to their office. It struck me on the way down there, again, that I find myself on these iconic roads and at these iconic places as a part of my daily existence. It's good that there's a certain acclimatization that happens. If I didn't get somewhat used to it, I'd spend too much time geeking out to get anything done.
I found a parking spot, covered a short walk, and hopped on the elevator to MMi's 6th floor offices. I hung out in the lobby for awhile, reading the LA Times. I was early, as I chronically am, and was thankful for the entertainment section. When I'm anticipating something, I have a tendency to start to wonder if I've been overlooked or forgotten. That was hellish in the trucking days. Seven hour waits at the dock often reinforced that paranoia. I digress.
It was a businesslike place. That was intimidating at first, but then it made me more comfortable. If I'm looking for someone to find me auditions for well-paid work, I'd much prefer somebody businesslike than somebody trendy. Another intimidation factor that I ran into, both last Thursday and Monday, was my response to the presence of "pretty" people. Being an agency (technically, it's a management company, but for simplicity, I'll use agency) with "Model" in the name, MMi nets its fair share of models. Well, those people you see in magazines are only airbrushed so much. When you see somebody that could have just walked off the set of a Cologne spread, it's a little surreal. My personal response to that experience is to snap out a quick mental, "What the hell am I doing here?" One does not have to be a serious student of psychology to notice said response indicates a number of things about my confidence in my own physical appearance.
So I'm sitting in the lobby, reading the newspaper in order to allay my sense of insecurity. Nicolas comes into the lobby to give me the dime tour. He walks me around the halls of the floor, where each office houses two people, busily going about their work. They find print ads, commercials, TV and Film work for their clients. I understand that this walk-around is designed to impress me with the inherent diligence of the whole place. Such is only expected. They stand to make 20% of whatever I gross. They're already interested in me, and they want to let me know they're serious about what they're doing. They'd like me to sign on.
I take the presentation for a presentation, but I'm also listening to the little speech that Nicolas is giving me. First, he's speaking to me with an earnest and connected honesty. It's not a sales pitch. Second, he's hitting me with numbers that I've heard before. He's quoting typical compensation for different kinds of projects. He's not overselling those numbers, they're impressive by themselves. Then I get why we're doing this. They take shots on people with a look. Experience not required. Hollywood will take a look and teach it to perform. I'm sure they see people every day that haven't got the first idea what they're doing in Hollywood. It's their business model. Net the looks, and those that can function will function. It doesn't cost them a dime to take chances.
Now, some people might find this a bit off-putting. I actually like it. They weren't trying to conceal their system, or selling me a shovelful of manure about how special I was. I'm exactly as special as they think I am. I'm worth the offer. That's all I need sometimes. I know what my skill set is like, both for auditions and for performance. I'm digressing again. I'm digressing on the border of justification...and I haven't even finished the story.
Anyway. This is a company that takes in a larger number of unproven candidates in order to offset the number of unprovens that wind up basically flaking out. Nicolas looked at my ten best headshots. He talked to me, and paid attention to me. He erred on the side of caution in explaining things to me. Obviously, he deals with a lot of unrealistic and star-struck folks in his working day. Essentially he went out of his way to explain that MMi is exactly what I hoped it would be. They find the opportunities. I show up and capitalize. They get a cut. Perfect. I can't tell you how many people claim to do this, and then throw a little lime twist in there to make an extra buck.
Speaking of making an extra buck, here comes the part that all of you scam alarmists will scrutinize.
There's a package. It's a full-day photo shoot with a photographer (I've seen and like his work), a make-up artist, hair-stylist, and wardrobe consultant. It's $900. Those are the facts, ma'am. I chose to go for it, without a clue where that money will come from. Here's why:
My headshots, while good, are not as diverse as is necessary to really be viable in a broader market of print and commercial, plus theatrical TV and film. I know this. I knew this coming out of that first shoot in January. What those headshots did do was get me the interest from MMi. In the industry sense of things (if not in real cash, yet) those shots have just paid for themselves. To be offered a luxury shoot of the nature offered, for the price offered...it's hard to pass up. This is obviously an at-cost arrangement. MMi is brokering all of the elements, and not taking a dime of it for revenue. They also didn't require that I opt in to the shoot. That would have been a deal breaker. They simply offered it as a way to get me in as marketable a position as I can be, so that they can sell me to CDs, and make their 20% when I'm actually working. This makes sense to me.
So I signed on the dotted line. It's a non-exclusive, at-will agreement. They agree to find me auditions, and I agree to give them 20% of what I get paid. Have I written 20% enough yet? Sorry about that. The nature of the contract is also a cool thing. It's not a term contract, I'm not obligated to a year or two years. I'm also not obligated to give them a commission if I happen to find work through other contacts. This they do not have to do.
So I'm represented. I have a photo shoot date set for June 3. We have bills to pay. And the extra work has been dismal these last weeks. The combination of emotions invoked by the facts covered in the preceding four sentences would be the reason for any lack of jubilance you may sense in this post.
I can look forward to a serious broadening of my professional possibilities. I can look at the present and notice that I'm facing one of the harshest challenges of faith I've ever been through. I need to avoid freaking out and trying to make the money come. I need also to avoid second-guessing all of this. I need also to remember that God knew the fabric of my life before the foundation of the earth...and that He means well for me, in spite of me.
Case-in-point: We decided to opt out of the new apartment. In fact, we'd be moving in there tomorrow if we'd followed through...or, rather, not moving in, because there's no money for it. We decided to stay here, and reorganize (really reorganize) our lives around the three-person arrangement. With a new lease, we get $1000 to apply to discounting rent. We hadn't signed the new lease yet, mostly as a matter of oversight (and we'd not really been told it was ready). After Thursday, and the new understanding of a coming expense, we were in a perfect position to apply that discount money to June's rent. So, instead of owing $1200 tomorrow and $1450 on June 1st, we owe about $200 on June 1st. What a pass!
I have less doubt than I've ever had in an eventual positive outcome (incredible outcome, if I want to pick a really representative adjective), but I still fight with doubt that can grow monstrous.
If I'm really going to be honest with myself, I think the reason it's so hard to post here (especially these days) is because I'd rather ignore all this uncertainty until the storm is past. If I sit down here and hash it all out--go back and recall it, surmise what it means, and what it might mean--I have to cope with the associated emotion. And I have to cope with the emotion in a totally eletric, immediate way. Because it's all right here. Right now. This is my life.
I'm so on the cusp. It's clear to the point of pain. The future is so near, and my grasp of my God and myself is almost in line. The mechanisms are almost in place. I might just be able to start living my life without paralyzing doubt, without looking over my shoulder, and without mistrusting my every perception. But it hasn't happened yet. The puzzle is incomplete.
But the picture on the box is starting to show up in the placed pieces.
My Facebook status says "Mark Saienga is represented." That is, that is what my Facebook status would read if Facebook still had status updates instead of the stream-of-consciousness twitter-rivaling blurbs they've got now. If I want to do stream-of-consciousness, I blog (see above). The "is represented" part is the interesting part.
I went to the meeting at MMi on Monday. It went well.
It went well.
I had to stare at that sentence long enough that I needed to re-write it. It feels like one of those sentences that needs so much unpacking, the contents seem impossible to repack after they've been examined.
Alicia always says, "I want a play-by-play!"
Perhaps that's best.
I had to take the 405 to Santa Monica Boulevard in order to get to their office. It struck me on the way down there, again, that I find myself on these iconic roads and at these iconic places as a part of my daily existence. It's good that there's a certain acclimatization that happens. If I didn't get somewhat used to it, I'd spend too much time geeking out to get anything done.
I found a parking spot, covered a short walk, and hopped on the elevator to MMi's 6th floor offices. I hung out in the lobby for awhile, reading the LA Times. I was early, as I chronically am, and was thankful for the entertainment section. When I'm anticipating something, I have a tendency to start to wonder if I've been overlooked or forgotten. That was hellish in the trucking days. Seven hour waits at the dock often reinforced that paranoia. I digress.
It was a businesslike place. That was intimidating at first, but then it made me more comfortable. If I'm looking for someone to find me auditions for well-paid work, I'd much prefer somebody businesslike than somebody trendy. Another intimidation factor that I ran into, both last Thursday and Monday, was my response to the presence of "pretty" people. Being an agency (technically, it's a management company, but for simplicity, I'll use agency) with "Model" in the name, MMi nets its fair share of models. Well, those people you see in magazines are only airbrushed so much. When you see somebody that could have just walked off the set of a Cologne spread, it's a little surreal. My personal response to that experience is to snap out a quick mental, "What the hell am I doing here?" One does not have to be a serious student of psychology to notice said response indicates a number of things about my confidence in my own physical appearance.
So I'm sitting in the lobby, reading the newspaper in order to allay my sense of insecurity. Nicolas comes into the lobby to give me the dime tour. He walks me around the halls of the floor, where each office houses two people, busily going about their work. They find print ads, commercials, TV and Film work for their clients. I understand that this walk-around is designed to impress me with the inherent diligence of the whole place. Such is only expected. They stand to make 20% of whatever I gross. They're already interested in me, and they want to let me know they're serious about what they're doing. They'd like me to sign on.
I take the presentation for a presentation, but I'm also listening to the little speech that Nicolas is giving me. First, he's speaking to me with an earnest and connected honesty. It's not a sales pitch. Second, he's hitting me with numbers that I've heard before. He's quoting typical compensation for different kinds of projects. He's not overselling those numbers, they're impressive by themselves. Then I get why we're doing this. They take shots on people with a look. Experience not required. Hollywood will take a look and teach it to perform. I'm sure they see people every day that haven't got the first idea what they're doing in Hollywood. It's their business model. Net the looks, and those that can function will function. It doesn't cost them a dime to take chances.
Now, some people might find this a bit off-putting. I actually like it. They weren't trying to conceal their system, or selling me a shovelful of manure about how special I was. I'm exactly as special as they think I am. I'm worth the offer. That's all I need sometimes. I know what my skill set is like, both for auditions and for performance. I'm digressing again. I'm digressing on the border of justification...and I haven't even finished the story.
Anyway. This is a company that takes in a larger number of unproven candidates in order to offset the number of unprovens that wind up basically flaking out. Nicolas looked at my ten best headshots. He talked to me, and paid attention to me. He erred on the side of caution in explaining things to me. Obviously, he deals with a lot of unrealistic and star-struck folks in his working day. Essentially he went out of his way to explain that MMi is exactly what I hoped it would be. They find the opportunities. I show up and capitalize. They get a cut. Perfect. I can't tell you how many people claim to do this, and then throw a little lime twist in there to make an extra buck.
Speaking of making an extra buck, here comes the part that all of you scam alarmists will scrutinize.
There's a package. It's a full-day photo shoot with a photographer (I've seen and like his work), a make-up artist, hair-stylist, and wardrobe consultant. It's $900. Those are the facts, ma'am. I chose to go for it, without a clue where that money will come from. Here's why:
My headshots, while good, are not as diverse as is necessary to really be viable in a broader market of print and commercial, plus theatrical TV and film. I know this. I knew this coming out of that first shoot in January. What those headshots did do was get me the interest from MMi. In the industry sense of things (if not in real cash, yet) those shots have just paid for themselves. To be offered a luxury shoot of the nature offered, for the price offered...it's hard to pass up. This is obviously an at-cost arrangement. MMi is brokering all of the elements, and not taking a dime of it for revenue. They also didn't require that I opt in to the shoot. That would have been a deal breaker. They simply offered it as a way to get me in as marketable a position as I can be, so that they can sell me to CDs, and make their 20% when I'm actually working. This makes sense to me.
So I signed on the dotted line. It's a non-exclusive, at-will agreement. They agree to find me auditions, and I agree to give them 20% of what I get paid. Have I written 20% enough yet? Sorry about that. The nature of the contract is also a cool thing. It's not a term contract, I'm not obligated to a year or two years. I'm also not obligated to give them a commission if I happen to find work through other contacts. This they do not have to do.
So I'm represented. I have a photo shoot date set for June 3. We have bills to pay. And the extra work has been dismal these last weeks. The combination of emotions invoked by the facts covered in the preceding four sentences would be the reason for any lack of jubilance you may sense in this post.
I can look forward to a serious broadening of my professional possibilities. I can look at the present and notice that I'm facing one of the harshest challenges of faith I've ever been through. I need to avoid freaking out and trying to make the money come. I need also to avoid second-guessing all of this. I need also to remember that God knew the fabric of my life before the foundation of the earth...and that He means well for me, in spite of me.
Case-in-point: We decided to opt out of the new apartment. In fact, we'd be moving in there tomorrow if we'd followed through...or, rather, not moving in, because there's no money for it. We decided to stay here, and reorganize (really reorganize) our lives around the three-person arrangement. With a new lease, we get $1000 to apply to discounting rent. We hadn't signed the new lease yet, mostly as a matter of oversight (and we'd not really been told it was ready). After Thursday, and the new understanding of a coming expense, we were in a perfect position to apply that discount money to June's rent. So, instead of owing $1200 tomorrow and $1450 on June 1st, we owe about $200 on June 1st. What a pass!
I have less doubt than I've ever had in an eventual positive outcome (incredible outcome, if I want to pick a really representative adjective), but I still fight with doubt that can grow monstrous.
If I'm really going to be honest with myself, I think the reason it's so hard to post here (especially these days) is because I'd rather ignore all this uncertainty until the storm is past. If I sit down here and hash it all out--go back and recall it, surmise what it means, and what it might mean--I have to cope with the associated emotion. And I have to cope with the emotion in a totally eletric, immediate way. Because it's all right here. Right now. This is my life.
I'm so on the cusp. It's clear to the point of pain. The future is so near, and my grasp of my God and myself is almost in line. The mechanisms are almost in place. I might just be able to start living my life without paralyzing doubt, without looking over my shoulder, and without mistrusting my every perception. But it hasn't happened yet. The puzzle is incomplete.
But the picture on the box is starting to show up in the placed pieces.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Summary posts are always the hardest to write. Invariably, I miss something, so it's not even a complete summary. It also reminds me of how long it's been since I have posted, which brings me down a little. Ideally, I'd be posting twice or thrice a week.
According to my lovely other half, however, reading event driven commentary is far more enjoyable than sifting through my more existential, meaning driven stuff.
So the calling service has been getting me a little work, but not much. However, talking to everybody, there seems to be not terribly much work to go around. This means what work there is goes to people with good history, good reputation, or good connections. This applies background-universe wide, not just to my particular corner of the earth. I can't hold it against the service, or the casting companies. Many people do. To me, it's just a natural function of any business. You work with who you know. Getting known and trusted is always the uphill battle.
The most critical element of this little drought is the financial tension it has created. I know it's been a running theme of my blog thus far, but money (or, more accurately, lack thereof) is a constant attention grabber for me. It's a bit of a weakness. For the purposes of this post though, it just served to get me reflecting on my career path and choices.
I really examined all of the energy I'm expending trying to be an actor. I work as an extra to provide me the kind of flexibility I've discovered is critical to being available to audition. I'm not blessed with an agent, so any audition that I land is gotten by the arduous process of sifting through dozens of breakdowns every day. (Breakdowns are basically abstracts of a role, a plot, a pay rate (usually paltry or zero), and a working date range). Most of those breakdowns are either unfit for me, physically, or completely uninteresting to me, artistically.
Now, it may seem snobbish of me to say that I'm disinterested in some projects because of their content or their characters—beggars can't be choosers, right? But I urge you to remember the number of crap movie trailers you've seen in the last six months. Now, take that number, which represents well-funded films that have gotten distribution, and multiply it by all of the students, aspiring film-makers, and talentless green-grabbers you care to imagine. That is the world I inhabit: The Bottom Rung. It's not a complaint, it's a reality.
So I only have access to a handful of really worthwhile projects that I must 1) Submit to, 2) Be invited to audition for, 3) Audition for, 4) Maybe be called back for, and 5) Be cast in before I can actually work on them.
This is a tremendous expenditure of energy for very little product, and most of said product is uncompensated, in the paper-with-pictures-of-presidents sense.
So, after reviewing all of this factual information, I sat back and wondered about what I really care for in a professional and passionate sense.
I know that I love acting, and I know that I love good, interesting projects and characters. I know that I don't love poor writing, commercial cash-cows with little-to-no artistic value, or artistically viable work with messages I can't get behind.
It seemed that I had reached a point where I would have to expand my standards of acceptable work (read: lower the bar) in order to keep acting and only acting. I don't want to do that. I'm already tired enough, just chasing the projects I can get behind. To add to the existing fatigue moral and artistic stress over projects that, even in the moment, I understand are bad would be the equivalent of emotional suicide by tectonic plate. The pressure would build until something gave way, and I would be smashed in the ensuing tremor.
How to love the projects and pay the bills, then?
Writing was the obvious answer. I have screenplays bouncing around in my head, and a book that's been loitering, unfinished, for a year. I've also roosted enough in my faith and in my person to have finally shed some of the wrenching impatience that has haunted this Hollywood dream from day one. It was the kind of impatience that came from insecurity, and a need to have control where control was impossible. In short, I felt I'd reached the place where I knew what I wanted and was willing to wait until I could get it, no matter how long it took. I would get a "regular" job for the bills, learn the discipline to write in the down-time, learn more about myself, my wife, and my son, and sell a screenplay of my own with the condition that I play one of the roles. This kind of conditional sale is pretty common in the business. At that point, if the film was a success, I would have people asking me to be in their movies, instead of the other way around, and I could have complete freedom to take and reject roles based on my preferences and interests in story and character.
By deciding this, I was really taking the long view for the first time in my life. I wasn't just fixing a "now" problem by taking drastic, long-lasting action. I was going for the ultimate goal and finding the best way to have it, eventually. Pretty adult, right?
So I started trolling around for jobs...with the necessary emotional upheaval of still having the extra work to find to try to pay the bills until the regular job could be found. I woke up every morning for a week, up until Thursday, praying over my coffee mug that a job offer (or, failing that, a really well paying principle job) would be in my inbox...something that would relieve the tightening noose on our checkbook.
Wednesday night, for some reason, I just stopped freaking out. I figured God would give me the regular job He wanted me to have at the time He meant me to have it. I was, of course, working under the assumption that the conclusion to which I had come was in line with His will.
So Thursday, I just got up and went to the computer, no fervent praying done en route. In the inbox was an email from a Management company (a manager is a bit different than an agent) to which I had not submitted myself, and that appeared to have specifically looked at me...not just gone to LA casting and gotten a contact list of every member of the website. They looked legit.
So I went down there today. And guess what? I'm going back in on Monday, because they're interested in me for one of their departments. This is exactly the kind of opportunity I need to get access to "better" (higher level) auditions and projects.
Now, I don't know how this will play out, but it certainly has all of the typical markers of something that God throws into my life in order to clarify my direction and close a few doors.
Landing a manager or an agent was off my radar screen. To get an offer from somebody I hadn't submitted to is even more of a blind side than getting an offer from somebody I had contacted. Frankly, the more I digest it, getting this offer is second only to learning my wife was pregnant in terms of drawing my focus from one path to another. Just as then, I had reasoned out a good, solid, morally sound path to walk, and God said, "No, not that. This first."
So who knows? It's entirely possible that they'll want me to do a bunch of stuff to improve my marketability, stuff that'll cost money...money I don't have...but it's entirely possible they won't, too. They could be just the right team for me, right now. For whatever reason, this is happening to me now. I'll take it.
God's been completely reliable about keeping us supplied with the income we need so far, anyway...like, to the point where money just shows up in the mail.
I think maybe, just maybe, I'm finally at the point where I really trust Him. It's fun in a way that I never imagined possible. The minute I let go, good things start happening.
I'm excited, so I'm starting to bounce around, mentally. I'm done with the story...you're up to date.
If you want to see me on camera with a principle character, and sporting a really awful hairdo, watch this last Friday's Prison Break. That's finally up.
See y'all around the next random corner.
According to my lovely other half, however, reading event driven commentary is far more enjoyable than sifting through my more existential, meaning driven stuff.
So the calling service has been getting me a little work, but not much. However, talking to everybody, there seems to be not terribly much work to go around. This means what work there is goes to people with good history, good reputation, or good connections. This applies background-universe wide, not just to my particular corner of the earth. I can't hold it against the service, or the casting companies. Many people do. To me, it's just a natural function of any business. You work with who you know. Getting known and trusted is always the uphill battle.
The most critical element of this little drought is the financial tension it has created. I know it's been a running theme of my blog thus far, but money (or, more accurately, lack thereof) is a constant attention grabber for me. It's a bit of a weakness. For the purposes of this post though, it just served to get me reflecting on my career path and choices.
I really examined all of the energy I'm expending trying to be an actor. I work as an extra to provide me the kind of flexibility I've discovered is critical to being available to audition. I'm not blessed with an agent, so any audition that I land is gotten by the arduous process of sifting through dozens of breakdowns every day. (Breakdowns are basically abstracts of a role, a plot, a pay rate (usually paltry or zero), and a working date range). Most of those breakdowns are either unfit for me, physically, or completely uninteresting to me, artistically.
Now, it may seem snobbish of me to say that I'm disinterested in some projects because of their content or their characters—beggars can't be choosers, right? But I urge you to remember the number of crap movie trailers you've seen in the last six months. Now, take that number, which represents well-funded films that have gotten distribution, and multiply it by all of the students, aspiring film-makers, and talentless green-grabbers you care to imagine. That is the world I inhabit: The Bottom Rung. It's not a complaint, it's a reality.
So I only have access to a handful of really worthwhile projects that I must 1) Submit to, 2) Be invited to audition for, 3) Audition for, 4) Maybe be called back for, and 5) Be cast in before I can actually work on them.
This is a tremendous expenditure of energy for very little product, and most of said product is uncompensated, in the paper-with-pictures-of-presidents sense.
So, after reviewing all of this factual information, I sat back and wondered about what I really care for in a professional and passionate sense.
I know that I love acting, and I know that I love good, interesting projects and characters. I know that I don't love poor writing, commercial cash-cows with little-to-no artistic value, or artistically viable work with messages I can't get behind.
It seemed that I had reached a point where I would have to expand my standards of acceptable work (read: lower the bar) in order to keep acting and only acting. I don't want to do that. I'm already tired enough, just chasing the projects I can get behind. To add to the existing fatigue moral and artistic stress over projects that, even in the moment, I understand are bad would be the equivalent of emotional suicide by tectonic plate. The pressure would build until something gave way, and I would be smashed in the ensuing tremor.
How to love the projects and pay the bills, then?
Writing was the obvious answer. I have screenplays bouncing around in my head, and a book that's been loitering, unfinished, for a year. I've also roosted enough in my faith and in my person to have finally shed some of the wrenching impatience that has haunted this Hollywood dream from day one. It was the kind of impatience that came from insecurity, and a need to have control where control was impossible. In short, I felt I'd reached the place where I knew what I wanted and was willing to wait until I could get it, no matter how long it took. I would get a "regular" job for the bills, learn the discipline to write in the down-time, learn more about myself, my wife, and my son, and sell a screenplay of my own with the condition that I play one of the roles. This kind of conditional sale is pretty common in the business. At that point, if the film was a success, I would have people asking me to be in their movies, instead of the other way around, and I could have complete freedom to take and reject roles based on my preferences and interests in story and character.
By deciding this, I was really taking the long view for the first time in my life. I wasn't just fixing a "now" problem by taking drastic, long-lasting action. I was going for the ultimate goal and finding the best way to have it, eventually. Pretty adult, right?
So I started trolling around for jobs...with the necessary emotional upheaval of still having the extra work to find to try to pay the bills until the regular job could be found. I woke up every morning for a week, up until Thursday, praying over my coffee mug that a job offer (or, failing that, a really well paying principle job) would be in my inbox...something that would relieve the tightening noose on our checkbook.
Wednesday night, for some reason, I just stopped freaking out. I figured God would give me the regular job He wanted me to have at the time He meant me to have it. I was, of course, working under the assumption that the conclusion to which I had come was in line with His will.
So Thursday, I just got up and went to the computer, no fervent praying done en route. In the inbox was an email from a Management company (a manager is a bit different than an agent) to which I had not submitted myself, and that appeared to have specifically looked at me...not just gone to LA casting and gotten a contact list of every member of the website. They looked legit.
So I went down there today. And guess what? I'm going back in on Monday, because they're interested in me for one of their departments. This is exactly the kind of opportunity I need to get access to "better" (higher level) auditions and projects.
Now, I don't know how this will play out, but it certainly has all of the typical markers of something that God throws into my life in order to clarify my direction and close a few doors.
Landing a manager or an agent was off my radar screen. To get an offer from somebody I hadn't submitted to is even more of a blind side than getting an offer from somebody I had contacted. Frankly, the more I digest it, getting this offer is second only to learning my wife was pregnant in terms of drawing my focus from one path to another. Just as then, I had reasoned out a good, solid, morally sound path to walk, and God said, "No, not that. This first."
So who knows? It's entirely possible that they'll want me to do a bunch of stuff to improve my marketability, stuff that'll cost money...money I don't have...but it's entirely possible they won't, too. They could be just the right team for me, right now. For whatever reason, this is happening to me now. I'll take it.
God's been completely reliable about keeping us supplied with the income we need so far, anyway...like, to the point where money just shows up in the mail.
I think maybe, just maybe, I'm finally at the point where I really trust Him. It's fun in a way that I never imagined possible. The minute I let go, good things start happening.
I'm excited, so I'm starting to bounce around, mentally. I'm done with the story...you're up to date.
If you want to see me on camera with a principle character, and sporting a really awful hairdo, watch this last Friday's Prison Break. That's finally up.
See y'all around the next random corner.
I realize in retrospect that using the word "placeholder" in my previous post was misleading. It indicated that I intended to return and edit a body of text into that post. That was not my intention. It should have gone like this:
"This is where a post would go if I felt like posting. I don't want to post."
Sorry.
That said, after I put the wee one to bed, I'll be coming back and posting another post to follow this post which updates you on the recent and twisty eventure of my life.
I believe I've just invented the word eventure, but I can't be sure.
"This is where a post would go if I felt like posting. I don't want to post."
Sorry.
That said, after I put the wee one to bed, I'll be coming back and posting another post to follow this post which updates you on the recent and twisty eventure of my life.
I believe I've just invented the word eventure, but I can't be sure.
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