Action and Followthrough

The more time I spend in California, the less of an idealist and the more of a realist I become. About many things, but I'll focus on craft in this.

I've enjoyed a commercial class I've been taking for the past 3 months because the coach offers "hands-on" methods, or real productivity measures, that keep me moving forward. Stand like this. Answer the phone this way. Do mailings like this. Etc.

The problem with a lot of acting classes is they're too philosophical. There's no physical labor, just mental note-taking. Hearing a lesson like "you need to fall in love and then have your heart broken to experience the full spectrum of human emotion" is not bad, but it's easy to write that in notebook , rather than have realistic aims of bringing that to the stage or screen. We're past that point now.

Taking class, I glance at my peers and they're taking pages of notes. Pages. I snuck a look at the girl beside me last night. She was writing things like "don't forget to smile!" and "be believable!" and "make sure you're prepared before you audition!"

Ah, I'm dogging on her. If she needs to take notes on such things, that's her right. Even though I happen to know she's been taking this particular class for a year. It's action and followthrough that makes people successful, not writing in notebooks and saying the right stuff.

I have 75-80% working knowledge on how to market and sell myself out here. I know because I have some limited success. But there's still some things I haven't figured out yet. It's that other 20% I'm seeking help with. What do I not know? It's up to me to cut through the BS, or what doesn't benefit me anymore, and find the Aha! stuff.

Improv classes are the same. There's no better way to learn than to actually get up on stage and work. You gotta hop onstage and embarrass yourself quickly. I was in an improv scene four weeks ago in front of a lot of people at IO West and lost my way. Everybody walked away from me, and I had to crawl my way off. I still felt good about it afterward, because I was up there.

We could sit and talk about improv until the wee hours of the morning. "Explore the problem, don't fix it!" "Establish relationship quickly!" "Let activity heighten emotion!" That's great stuff... to hear. If I'm having trouble with those things in practice, I prefer to scribble on a little note in my pocket, so I don't forgot, rather than in a big official binder of acting stuff that's gonna intimidate and discourage me from opening it up.

Obviously, I work in the entertainment world, so I use these examples. But apply what I'm saying to your work. If you are studying or working at something in your life, find the information that gets you productive and moving. You are a smart person. Don't sit at your idealistic desk and have the facts all day. We don't need scene study criticism. We don't need to take notes to remember to smile.

It is time to get up and do. And when you've gotten up and done your best, it's totally cool to sit down with a drink and have that philosophical conversation. Because you produced the sweat and tears.

Learn what realistically will help you and take action and followthrough!

Note: This very piece is idealistic, but it serves the realistic aim of getting my brain awake this morning, helping me stay sharp and thinking.

No Dissing the Disney

I've been sick (again) this week, so I've broke out a lot of animated Disney movies to lift my spirits.

I went through the stellar Disney Renaissance (Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Lion King, maybe Pocahontas) and looked at some older stuff like Sleeping Beauty, Jungle Book, The Rescuers, etc. Not to mention the sing-a-long presentation of Frozen, which hopefully just kicked off another Renaissance.

I've met so many friends who are attracted to all things Disney. Many who are older than me. When I'm around them and it's "Disney this, Disney that", I've wondered "wow, you act like you live in fantasy land. Why don't you go see something adult, like Wolf of Wall Street or something?"

It's funny, I work a long day. Drive my car. Go to classes. Manage errands and business. Then, I come home to my room and turn on Beauty and the Beast and watch Lumière and Mrs. Potts sing "Be Our Guest" to Belle. If I wore that sign on my head on a weekday, how many people would take me seriously?

It's been said your room is where you lock out your worries and fears. That's also where you play Disney movies! There's something therapeutic about putting on something youthful - brightly gift-wrapped and served up with a hearty portion of magic with a satisfaction-guaranteed ending. The worlds of dancing candlesticks and clocks don't call for me to wrap my brain around anything. As well, they remind me of childhood when all these colorful movies and fun characters were introduced to me.

The point of this note is simple. Disney works, as a controlled detox to adult life.

I understand why there are so many Mouseketeers and annual passes to Disneyland. Not just escapism, but a reminder - we weren't brought up the way the world tries to make us.

It's serious, un-Disney stuff in the big city, not always the lap of luxury. Maybe not all the time, but for now, I can get by with a little help from friends like...  Lumière and Mrs. Potts.

Why Football Is So Effin' Important

On the eve the Alabama Crimson Tide football team gets an opportunity to punch its ticket to another national championship game, I've been considering why college football matters so much to me. My team is doing great... been doing great for several years now. They are approaching dynasty status. But I watch and enjoy other teams too, college and pro. So if Alabama faltered, it wouldn't have been just a phase.

Every fall Saturday, since 2006, I've paid close attention to the Tide. I watch, recap, or hear about all the games. I follow practices, press conferences, recruiting, etc. I youtube game highlights. I like collecting Alabama memorabilia. It's a big cycle, and my people in Alabama are in on it too.

So, why? Why do I care? What does it do for me? Why do we act like this - Bama Nation Reacts - The Rally in Death Valley ?

The fact is, most Alabama fans don't feel they need to explain themselves. It's fun. It's tradition. A reason to meet up with buddies at the bar or sit in the den with your father.

It creates talking points with strangers. I met a guy from South Carolina tonight, and we connected talking about football, propelling our conversation from courteous to substantial.

When I talk to my 15-year old brother, we're different and don't have a lot of mutually fascinating things to discuss, but we thrive on talking football.

To me, football serves as a form of relief. An instant charge and excuse to get excited, possibly when there is nothing else to get excited about. It's been a chance to take my mind off serious things, especially the hustle n' bustle of the past couple of years. It's about the thrill of competition. Watching players mix and match. Witnessing good athletes reach their potential and make history. Sitting on the edge of your seat. Having a good time.

I'll be getting more rolled eyes, for some people don't think that calls for the manic nature sports fan have. But let me say. Football, and any sport for that matter, binds people. It lets our hair down and saves us from taking life's routines too seriously.

Rise Up

I moved back to LA this week, because frankly, I don't know what else to do with myself.

You may be interested in specifics of what's going on lately. And between waiting for things to be settled at home and moving into a new place, designing a new website, getting back into the casting circuit, figuring out employment, getting new photos, and determining my overall place in LA, I'm not sure what to tell anyone yet.

I've been stuck in a nightmare for several months. Something that impeded my artistic growth, adult life and made me really struggle to find the happy spot in any day.

The situation has kept me from living comfortably in the present. The past made me depressed. The future made me anxious. People have been so nice. But nice doesn't help you. It doesn't advance your career. It doesn't push you forward to bliss. I'm about moving forward, not being held hostage to dwell on the past.

People online astound me. I scroll through and see all these shiny happy pictures - of visiting other countries, of wild nights at bars, of laying out on beaches, of sunny days with friends. Then, in the middle of it, I read a comment of how tough things are and how they need attention or whatever bullshit drama. Are you kidding me? Do they realize how tough it can really get? Some people don't know what they have. Maybe we're too spoiled.... Maybe I was...

Let me tell you reader, I know what it feels like to be in the ground that is below the bottom of the barrel. I know loss on a grand scale. I know what it's like for people you love and care about to vanish. To be left wondering, who's on my side? Who understands?

I find encouragement in the unlikeliness of places. I see a cousin who lost his twin sister a year ago, moving forward in life with a new-born son and significant other. I see a grandmother, with whom I would take weekly drives to Tennessee, cheerfully point out all the honeymoon spots and places she went to as a young adult . I see a brother who convincingly made the high school golf team, beating out several students in all grades to make a small roster. I see people, who have every right to be sad, embrace life and choose to be happy instead.

I had a whole thing ready to go to tell you about what I've been through, before I realized that's not the point. The kicker is all these troubles are relative. There are people that do not feel sorry for me. Then, there's people that think I deserve more. How sorry you feel for someone depends on how much crap you deal with in life.

You can't get your SAG card? Waaah, I can't move to Hollywood. You can't move to Hollywood? Waaah, I'm stuck in school. You're stuck in school? Waaah, I'm physically handicapped. And so on. You can always shut the whining up by mentioning paraplegics or starving kids in India..

Despite everything, I am still an optimist with big dreams that still matter. It's tough to understand why I ever got down over anything before this. Yes, I was stuck in an easy, repetitive job before July 16 and complained. But who doesn't? Who isn't anxious for more?

I could settle down. Get a decent job. Get a cheap place. Surround myself with fun stuff, like movies and video games, and be safe. I can give up dreams - I have nothing to prove to anyone. But I want to be fulfilled. I feel I have what it takes. And I haven't given everything yet.

July 16 was horrible, and there is a God and people that need to know I didn't mean things I said that day and the days afterward. But it did change my mindset in the long run. July 16 taught me to wake up feeling blessed that I get another shot, to make every day count. My plans did not change that day like I thought they would. It put them into perspective and was a swift kick in the butt to get it going right.

I plan to take it to a whole new level. I won't have the same job, place to live, or people around. And I have a lot of work to do on my own. I'll make mistakes. I'll say the wrong things to people. I will lose more people I love. But I have a plan of attack, believe in myself, and couldn't be more excited and hopeful.

Maybe I believe too much in the best of people and the way the world works. I don't know how else to go through life.

No matter what life throws at you, no matter how much loss and pain you go through, I've realized there are people somewhere - around the country, in the past, on the clouds - that believe in me. Therefore, I have a legacy. I can do anything.

Endowment

This poem contains elements from one of my favorite poems: "Anodyne" by Yusef Komunyaaka.

 

I love how she

plays over me like a

skinny note on a piano.

I love how the world ignores

my glee and sorrow and

leaves it up to me. I love

the secrets she allows me to keep.

The sunshine that massages my joy

& the rain that rinses away

my mistakes. I love her words.

The unsureness of expression &

the mysteries of response.

I love how I can be disliked,

proving I am here

kicking up the dust.

I love how she

doesn’t keep noise

in the air between. I love

I can experience pain, proving

connection and spent time.

Drives and chats

taken and told. I love

the worn paths

& used money & the youthfulness

confused for immaturity

I can’t get back

and the lessons that comes with it.

I love her.

I love her down to her

incredible resolve

& frailty of the heart. I love

how she demands feeling. The looks,

those glances that persuade me to act.

I love how she has

a foggy piece,

one solo and disjointed

jigsaw to my naked portrait,

because I know I am alive

to dance across

her beautiful wasteland.

On the Front Row of Adulthood

I spent the last week of June preparing myself for how July was going to go. Nothing could prepare me for this. Now a few days after giving part of my father's eulogy, I'm on the front row of adulthood.

Everything that has happened in LA is suddenly irrelevent. It doesn't matter. All the relationships. All the work. All the plans. Stopped. Doesn't matter. Could matter again at some point. But not now. I'm on the front row of adulthood.

Everything my father worked for. Everything he created and saved and put up and owned is my responsibility now. His son, my little brother, is my responsibility now, though I have help and the love and support for our family is great.

It's only been a little over a week. Last Monday I left LA in a panic, in devastation. My heart tore out of my chest. I don't know how I made it here. I was completely wrecked.

And in a way, I still am. I found consolation in staying busy and active - planning the funeral and how life would unfold at Riverview Drive next. Not crawling in the bed and weeping to my family and friends. I've had to communicate with everyone who was effected by my father's charm, friendship, and love. And, reader, trust me when I say that is a lot of folks.

Dad was someone who enabled me and backed me up. I never owed him anything. Never borrowed money. Never took anything. I'm proud of that. We are on even keel.

He was my mentor. He was someone who trusted the paths I chose to walk in life. What I was interested in, he was interested in. And that couldn't work the other way around. He was the glue that held the families together. Now I am.

Acting, and everything I had been doing, just seems silly now. It seems like something I barely did. Something devoid of purpose. Yes, I can run from Florence. I can come back to LA in no time and work harder, motivated by my father's belief in me. But how can I with so much responsibility with the Salter legacy? Who is the male presence for Samuel? I am not justifying to myself for staying here or absorbing your sympathy, I am just on the front row of adulthood.

I wrote something about how happiness comes from our own actions. It comes from what we do and perceive to be as enlightening. Somebody told me sources of happiness are everywhere. If there's sunshine outside, that's a blessing. Happiness is not succeeding and fulfilling your dreams, it's embracing your situation and looking for the things around you that are functioning and working to keep you sane and interested.

Dad was my rock, the reason I could go and explore and pursue dreams. The reason I created many happy memories. I came from him. Now he's gone. I have to come back to where he was. To what he created and had. I have to be a Salter now.

My belief is if I can stand over Dad, view his corpse, and give a speech about what he meant to the world a week after sunbathing in Santa Monica, I can do ANYTHING.

Notes #2

Confidence Is Key

There is something about me that makes people want to have a go at me. I seem to bring out aggressive and war-like behavior from my peers sometimes.

Today at the "9 to 5", I was sent to a food cart to help with some new hires. About all they knew was how to clock in and ask if they could help you. I show up. I move things around. I get food prepared. I call in orders. I move the line. I do my job.

Then, I told one of them what to do. The kid stopped, broke the momentum, and asked, "Why do I need to do that?"

I ended up doing that (and more) while he stood there. It wasn't an instance that set me off, but it made me think. There is something about my demeanor, my persona, that after a while, seems to get to people I'm around. There's some sort of mentality I instill in people that makes them want to challenge me, to stand their ground.

For example, I can say, "I love that team." Then the person I'm sitting next to at the bar turns to me and loudly replies, "Are you kidding me? That team sucks! I like so-and-so!" And odds are, it's a team I don't like. Confrontation ensues.

And even if the guy at the bar liked the same team I like, there will be something about the way I proclaim it that would make them go something like "Yea, but why do you like them so much?"

This is good and bad. I like people challenging me. I like people who are smart, tough, thick-skinned, feisty, and not easy to sway. I think I get all the opinions on the table quickly when around people. Why is that? Is something I can fix? Do I need to fix it?

Our attitude and behavior effects people around us. Confidence is key but only a moderate amount. You don't want to mow down everyone in your path just to show how strong you think you are. It's not talking louder. It's not puffing out your chest. It's not making grand gestures. It's not even writing longer blogs. I've misunderstood this, thinking people need to see all this to know my strength. Negative. That just got them going - to the point they can turn against me.

What I need to do is be settled within my own inner strength. It is trusting in your beliefs and thoughts, even if it's something you can only prove to yourself. That, in tense moments with people, there wouldn't be an urge to lash out with quick words and action. Instead, it would be me comprehending the situation for myself and deciding if it's even worth it to let my thoughts into the universe. This would cut down on my abrasive behavior that has alienated me from important people all throughout my early life.

I mean, why feel you need to let other always know about it?

Everyone wants to be heard and understood. But perhaps being at peace with your own thoughts is more important. That is my definition of inner strength.

Take a Picture of... Something That You're Not Sure Of

I've been looking and debating photographers since April, and I finally chose one. I got a recommendation from a close friend in the entertainment biz. After a bunch of phone calls and several missed in-studio visits, I finally met and talked with the man this afternoon. I'm shooting in a couple of weeks. He was very professional and seems like someone comfortable to be around. What was the most important thing was he had a creative spirit and was only interested in shots that would BOOK WORK.

Right now, my Facebook has a bunch of "point and shoot" headshots that have worked few and far between the past two years. By the end of the month, there will be something new. I can look at myself and again start to visualize myself on a set again. Perhaps. More work to be done.

If interested, the photographer's site is here. http://www.michaelroud.com/

Vacation: All I Ever Wanted

I know a lot of people that deserve a vacation, and I'm one of them.

I refuse to go back home to Alabama to visit until I have enough materials to compete for auditions and parts when I come back. I'm trying to be careful not to bitch about the "9 to 5" but it's hard when it is taking a lot of time away from why I came out here.

I want to go to Disneyland, Sea World, Vegas, San Diego Zoo, Knott's Berry Farm, Vegas, Legoland, Catalina, Channel Islands, Big Bear, Vegas, San Francisco, Vegas, to name a few.

I thought I'd have all these places conquered by now. Ha.

There's still plenty of hot air and miles of roadway before I can't go anywhere.

Thought of the Day

How unfortunate real life doesn't move at the speed of a writer crafting his composition. How much violence would be thwarted. How much less accidents would occur. How many relationships would be saved. How much more common sense people would have. If we had time to find the right words.