My parents just left town after spending some time here in Los Angeles, so I hadn't the urge (nor the time) to write much while they were here. It's always nice to spend good time with the most important people in your life, and this visit was no exception. It's hard to live so far away from them. Try as I might, my old roots are still firmly planted in New Hampshire, even as these newer ones plunge deeper into Los Angeles each year. They say you can't go home again, but when my parents are in town, it feels like home is visiting me. Anyway, they read my blog so I won't inflate their egos with too many kind words. :-)
I've just finished watching Serenity on DVD, after watching every epidode of Firefly, via Netflix. I know I'm late to the party with this show, but I can't stop thinking about it. The actor in me wonders what it must be like to work on such a series. The writer in me wonders what it is, exactly, that makes a show a cult hit (love). The fanboy in me wonders what it must be like to have both an enormous well of stories to tell and the determination and perseverance to get them told, like Joss Whedon does. The dreamer in me yearns and aches.
Inspiration often comes from unexpected places. Firefly is a series in a fairly short list of television shows that inspires me to keep pushing towards my increasingly hazy goal of succeeding as an actor in this business. I watched it with both a sense of wonder at it's oddly compelling characters and a painful and familiar longing to be a part of something similarly special some day. It's the kind of fuel that led me to Los Angeles, and I felt old familiar gears spinning and firing when I watched it. I feel the old pull of the stage and screen.
No matter where I go or what I try to do that isn't performing, it seems like the bug always tries to track me down.
Well, here I am.
