Monthly Archives September 2013

Not everyone has to like you, but you’re still a great actor.

22734_1316438624757_2603692_n I’ve been addicted to that Sarah Barreilles song “Brave” lately. You know, that one that Katy Perry pretty much ripped off. It makes me smile whenever I hear it and then I want to do it. I was on Facebook the other day, watching some independent film trailers and checking out stuff I’ve missed not being as active on the social media circuit as of late, and I ran across (no pun intended) the Running Wild Films trailer for the first 13 films of their total 52. I watched it once through and was extremely impressed. I watched it a second time through with the sound on mute as I often like to do and I was even more impressed. I wandered over to Mr. Mills’ page to  tell him as much and give him my compliments on his consistently strong work, only to find I had been deleted. Excuse me, proper term to be used here is unfriended. I lost a friend. 🙁


I’ve done my fair share of deleting lately and even blocking (gasp) because it was unhealthy for me to see certain people pop up on my feed and let things fester. Fester, fester, fester… It happens, just like an annoying little pesky fly that keeps buzzing around your face. It has no idea nor care that you wish it would rather be dead...

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Actors, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?

1098489_10201107374260206_1251802165_nRecently I started thinking that recurring themes in my life had dissipated. It made me sad. I started looking for them. Trying to find meaning in words I’d read or in things I’d overhear at a corner cafe or in bookstore or even eavesdropping to me cubemates next door. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. You get the picture … Then I realized it was just the silence before the storm and boy was this week’s was a hum-dinger of a doozy as my late grandfather would say.

Ever notice how people try to re-live the past? Or they think about the past or remember the past fondly or try to recreate what they once had? There are some obvious, plain as the nose on your face, kind of reasons why folks do this. One is because a lot of times the old saying is true. You don’t realize how good something is until it’s gone and so you want it back. Or maybe you achieved some level of personal greatness that will never be repeated or matched so it seems preferable to you to live in what was once, rather than what is now. Others use the past as some sort of a decoder – a series of footprints leading up to where they are now standing on the big X on the map...

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An actor’s redemption: By the power of the Ghostbusters and the divine cosmos

1184798_10201159195795712_389473060_nI can’t write anymore. My soul doesn’t allow it. I used to be filled with all of these things I wanted to expel and release. Or from time to time I would feel absolutely inspired by some cosmic source to the point where the words would be begging, dripping from my fingertips.

Now I’m just trying to hold on to bits and pieces of me from being chased away by the next ghost in the night or wayward wind. All those cherished morsels have transformed into scraps left behind for the dogs of the gutter to sniff and paw it; even they are tempted to turn their snouts up and wander to another trash depository.

I want so badly to write, to stumble onto something profound and impart wisdom or at least something that’s interesting or captivating enough to spend 10 mins reading, but nothing comes. I feel empty and hallow inside, all swept out and closed up for business for the winter, left to collect dust and offer nothing but the memories of what was once or what could have been.

What could have been … What a dangerous thought to entertain.

If I’m completely honest it is probably because I don’t believe that I deserve to write anymore or have any opinion whatsoever...

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