Sunday, November 20, 2011

Another Day at Work

In L.A., cars are king.  Obvious.  Okay.  So the normal outgrowth of that truism is that businesses are located off the highway.  So is mine:  “Pho Citi”, a Vietnamese noodle and soup place.  Trash is constantly swirling around in little tornadoes of cigarette wrappers, ancient plastic bags, and pigeon feathers.  Each passing car blows the detritus away and back, around and around, right in front of our door. 

Yesterday, a deliveryman left the door open to wheel in his handtruck of rice stick noodles and suddenly a fat, greasy road-pigeon was wreaking havoc inside the restaurant, launching itself into the low-hanging Ikea ceiling lamps and shitting on the tables.

Customers were screaming with surprise, fear, and disgust.  Every time the bewildered pigeon tried to escape it would fly head-first into the plate-glass windows that face the highway.  A sickening smack could be heard each time, feathers drifting down lazily behind it.

Some customers were yelling.  Some were trying to scare it in the direction of the open door.  Some used their hands to protect their bowls of steaming Vietnamese soup.  Nearly everyone had left their seats and stood in postures of readiness.

The pigeon was now seriously out of it.  Walking in circles, then hovering in the air, hitting the window, flapping its wings, molting all over.  A customer from a table in the corner began trying to chase it out from behind while someone from another table tried to chase it out from the front, resulting in the bird shooting straight up in the air and hitting a ceiling lamp.  Our ceiling lamps resemble the kind you might imagine would be in a police interrogation room and they were almost all swinging back and forth on their long cords in a sinister way. 

This had been going on for five minutes of pure adrenaline.  An ad-hoc peanut gallery began to form and shout orders at the intrepid pigeon-catchers.  The cook, Daniel, an 80-pound Chinese man from Vietnam, watched from behind his kitchen window with a bemused smile on his face.

It’s hard to describe how complicated my emotions were as this was going on.  On the one hand, this was the most exciting thing to happen in three months.  There was a truly pathetic comedy of errors unfolding and I was just as mesmerized by the goings on as everyone else.  On the other hand, I was the only staff on site besides Daniel. It was obvious he was not going to join the fray. He works seven days a week and has not had a day off in months.  Since I was the face of the restaurant for the time being, a part of me felt duty-bound to save the dignity of the Pho Citi brand and resolve the matter swiftly and without further embarrassment. 

But then I began to think of all the mistreatment I and the other staff had suffered under the mismanagement of the owner, Sandra. I would get a certain measure of revenge on her when reading about this encounter on customer review websites like Yelp and   This job had nearly crushed my soul, why should I do more than the minimum to save face for someone who clearly had no regard for me?  I wrestled with this silently for a time as the commotion continued.

At first I tried to contain the situation by grabbing an empty cardboard box from the stockroom and throwing it on top of the creature.  This was a disaster, and anyway the box was too small.  It had previously contained to-go soy sauce packets.  Scaring it out was clearly not working, covering it with a box was unsuccessful…I reasoned then that it would only leave if it wanted to.  I looked around for something like bird food that I could use to coax it out with.

The best I could do was a bright green slice of lime.

Hoping against hope with my back to the door, I crouched to the ground and made clicking noises in the back of my mouth with my tongue the way you would get a horse to eat a carrot or an apple: kick-kick-kick-kick. Kick-kick-kick-kick.  Kick-kick-kick-kick.

A purple eye turned towards me.  Then the whole head.  Suddenly, a hopping bird was advancing on me.  Maybe to see what horse I was talking to. I backed further and further away until I could feel the breeze from the road.  And then the pigeon was gone.  It spread its wings and flapped into the daylight, around the corner and out of sight.  I turned back into the restaurant, lime in hand.

People had already begun to sit down.  I looked around to see if any of the customers had been a reporter and if we would make the news.  No one was taking any damning notes and no one looked horrified anymore.  No one asked for my name or the name of the owner.  The deliveryman continued to bring in boxes of noodles.  One table had just finished eating when the pigeon had come in and now were ready to pay. Daniel rang his cook’s bell: another bowl of soup was ready to go out.

Things almost instantly returned to normal and my attention was returned to the work of running the place on my own. 

I never saw that pigeon again.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Access and Inspiration

It is becoming more and more clear to me that on-camera work centers on the idea of access.  The camera's proximity provides unprecedented access to the inner workings of your mind, and the most minute thoughts play out on your face (without you having to put them there as a bit of "business" the way you would in theater).  A teacher once told me, "Emotion is the sweat produced by the work of pursuing your objective."  If you put attention on creating an emotion, you're not trying to get something from your scene partner, you're trying to get something from yourself and it takes you out of the game.

Take your breathing.  It happens naturally as part of the autonomic system of your body.  As soon as you put attention onto breathing it becomes a chore, and all you can think about is making yourself take a breath at the right time.  Putting attention on breathing disrupts the ease with which it comes out.  Emotions are autonomic, too.  Without working at all, the gears can be seen to be turning when someone looks into your eyes.  The face can be read with more clarity because the eyes are blown up to four feet across on a screen, and the eyes are what tell us everything.

This is something I need to hammer into my new consciousness because a great deal of who I am as a person is going to play out onscreen autonomically, without my permission, and who I am needs to be something more vulnerable and less guarded if I'm to have success in this field.

My natural inclination is towards humility, self-deprecation, and "letting the work speak for itself", but these things are all keeping me from engaging the camera (and thus, the viewer) with intimacy.  If you're up close but can't get inside, the whole enterprise is frustrated and the work becomes good, but not great.

Something else I've been thinking about is how to take ownership of myself and my career without being obnoxious or entitled; how to go after what I want and believe I deserve it; how to create an atmosphere around me that says, "I am in control, you can relax," rather than, "Do you like me?"

This is particularly hard in an industry town where everyone you meet seems to be in the same market as you and the prevailing attitude is that actors are a dime a dozen.  How can you hold your head up high and feel pride?

I think you need to hold on to the things that inspire you personally.  To believe in love and family and artistic passion and strive to make yourself better, to improve in such a way that you can say to yourself, "I am better than I was before; things are moving forward even if other areas of my life have stalled or are not on fire yet."  If your passion is acting, keep acting and taking classes and digging into what mystery is right outside your grasp.  If it's writing, keep churning out those drafts.  Keep taking inspiration from the outside world to find the characters that speak through you.

I am having a wonderful week because I just got more involved with the artistic side of my time here as opposed to the staying afloat side which took precedence for two months.  It's like a breath of fresh air to keep striving at what I want to be doing.  I'm fortunate that I have this time, and I'm going to spend it very wisely.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Secret Video

 This is the view from backstage of the game show I was on as an actor (playing a contestant).  The creators did a mock-up of the game for investors to try and sell it to networks.  I had been in two previous run-throughs as the main contestant, but suddenly when the money comes in, they wanted me as an alternate.  I got so mad I filmed this video just to break my non-disclosure agreement.  Then, of course, a guy didn't show up (classic LA flakiness) and I went on after all.  It's all in the past, but for those in the know, this was what it was like from the wings.  You may not be able to tell, but that figure at the bottom of the screen is eighty-thousand dollars.  The jackpot was 3.2 million.

Thursday, July 14, 2011


Here are some photos of the neighborhood and environs that I have just been able to put up.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Paco Taco

David and I went to this little treasure downtown last week. Mexicali Taco Co. It's some of the best mexican food I've had since I've been here.

This is the cachetada, which I had with chicken (their specialty), and I also had the famous vampiro which is like a garlic cheese quesadilla.  Both were superlative, although I thought the cachetada was better and I had two.  I can't believe I never had one of these before!

These guys are the best, highly honorable and great energy.  Very friendly and charismatic.


I am finding it very hard to stay disciplined out here.  For the moment, no car and no job, so everything is a little easy-breezy and then you look at the clock and the whole day is gone.  It's difficult to believe it's not perpetual summer break.  I have to make lists every morning of what I need to do, and somehow those lists stay long no matter how many items I knock out.

Here's some big items I did knock out:

1.* Go to the Actor's Work Program and get help finding a job.  This is one of the best resources I have found and I wish I had known about it sooner.  The Actor's Fund (amazing in itself) has an offshoot that specializes in career development.  The operation in NYC is absolutely top notch, I can't say enough things about how professional and smart everyone was when I went a few months ago during the run of Agent G.  In LA, the rigor of the program remains to be seen, but I went to orientation and my first workshop, and I am underway.  In NYC, the AWP felt like a sanctuary in Times Square where you could go and it was open and friendly, people are buzzing around and there's a computer lab.  In LA, the offices are in the SAG building and the layout makes you feel really uncomfortable.  You have to wait in an anteroom and then you get shuttled into a conference room where you can't see anything but a secret, anonymous hallway.  Everything seems to be behind a closed door.  As if you don't spend enough time alone out here, brawp.

2.  Get Health Insurance.  There is a great blog I mentioned a while ago (that has been priceless) called New Yorker in LA which directed me to the website.  After a week of back and forth and researching, I am now on a Kaiser Permanente HMO plan that should work.  Big ups to Mom and Dad for helping with that.

3.  Get a Library Card.  This one I've wanted to do but was intimidated by the application requirements I saw online, when in fact they're super chill about giving you one.   I should have known.  There's two really nice library branches within walking distance, Cahuenga and Los Feliz.  Very excited to try them out.  Kate and I got our cards together and took out materials the same day.  She said, "I think I found my new favorite plaaaaaace," because there are so many crazy characters walking the stacks.  Absolutely fascinating, unusual people.  One was a guy who seemed to be talking to himself about the "order you had to go in", which was apparently Dog, Rabbit, Snake, Bear.  You could not go Snake, Bear, Rabbit, Dog.  Hmm.

*So get a job and get a car where the actual numbers one and two, but those are going to take a touch longer than I thought.  I remain optimistic.  I have a number of great people who came out here before I did who are in my corner and it's making a big difference.

There's a great line in Malick's The Thin Red Line (one of my all time favorite movies) where Nick Nolte says to John Cusack, "From now on you don't have to tell me that you agree with me or that you think I'm right.  Ever.  We'll just accept it as given."  Find acting work is kind of an uber-number one, or super-objective, so we'll take that goal as given.  It's running underneath everything else I do.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Back in the Saddle

Okay, everyone.  I am back in LA after appearing in one of the most successful shows of my theatrical career: The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G.  Time now to concentrate on camera work.  But before I move on, let me say a quick thank you.  Now that I am over the jetlag and the madness of the graduation ceremonies and screenings at CalArts, I can give a proper shout out to the people who materially supported my stay in NYC.

First and foremost, my parents and sister.

Next, the brave souls who let me stay with them at their apartments:
Adam Mazer, Dan Rogers, Natalie Eilbert and Matt
Brian Morvant and Samantha Mason
Aaron Weiner and Jamie Klassel
Alison and Bill Washabaugh
Temar Underwood and Andrea Smith
Amy Waschke

Next, those who took me under their wing:
Jon Hoche and Erica Swindell
Angel Desai

And those who got me side gigs to keep the cash flow flowing:
Julie Leedes and Chris Ceraso with MTC
Billie Levinson from The Actor's Work Program
(Jon Hoche, Brian Morvant, Kris Ayers: thanks for the leads!)

You guys all made it possible. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Monday, April 25, 2011


Another punctuation and acting intersection from Lynne Truss:

But, as many classical actors will tell you, it can be just as effective to lower your voice for emphasis as to raise it.  Poets and writers know this too, which is where dashes and brackets come in.  Both of these marks ostensibly muffle your volume and flatten your tone; but, used carefully, they can do more to make a point than any page and a half of italics. 

Monday, April 18, 2011

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

I started Lynne Truss's book "Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation" last night on loan from Aaron, and in the first twenty pages came across this absolute gem:
The reason it's worth standing up for punctuation is not that it's an arbitrary system of notation known only to an over-sensitive elite who have attacks of the vapours when they see it misapplied.  The reason to stand up for punctuation is that without it there is no reliable way of communicating meaning.  Punctuation herds words together, keeps others apart.  Punctuation directs you how to read, in the way musical notation directs a musician how to play.  As we shall see in the chapter on commas, it was first used by Greek dramatists two thousand years ago to guide actors between breathing points...

Monday, March 28, 2011

AGENT G First Reviews

Jon and I at it again.
Photo: Jim Baldassare

The play's tone shifts after the battle, when its hero, Hung Tran (a robust and expertly calibrated turn from Paco Tolson) brings The Playwright (played with wryness and a certain sweet nerdiness by William Jackson Harper) to the stage. Hung, an incarnation of Nguyen's cousin, a Vietnamese refugee who survived a horrific journey in the China Sea, demands that Playwright tell his story truthfully, announcing "You're here to help turn this story out correct, playwright."  

I have to give mad props to Andy Propst from Theatermania, the guy has shown me so much critical love in NYC, and I am lucky to have someone so thoughtful in my corner.  

That Sounds Cool
After seeing Agent G, I'm not just a believer again, I'm a thoroughly obsessed fan: Nguyen's latest is not just a tale of Vietnam, filtered through war movies, noir drama, and spy flicks, but the tale of an artist daring to find his voice without compromising his aesthetic. 

Hello, Aaron Riccio.  Aaron reviews everything under the sun and is always on point.
The ensemble of five is superlative. Paco Tolson and Bonnie Sherman are spectacular as, respectively, Hung and three different (and very important) white women; Harper is funny and then moving as the beleaguered Playwright; Amy Kim Waschke breathes life into numerous stereotypes as, among others, a Vietnamese boy and a young Vietnamese woman who works as the housekeeper at a whorehouse. Stealing the show constantly is Jon Hoche, who plays seemingly a zillion different antagonists to Hung and/or The Playwright...

Martin Denton.  A living legend who works tirelessly to legitimaize the work we all do downtown.  Thanks as always, man.

The ensemble matches this litter of intentions each with their own shuffled deck of attitudes and identities, particularly Bonnie Sherman and Amy Kim Waschke, who incarnate an extraordinary library of pop poses and genuine emotional textures, while tenacious comedians Paco Tolson and Jon Hoche screw their incalculable chops to the shticking place.
William Jackson Harper is nervously, exasperatedly masterful as the conflicted-nebbish Playwright who invokes Woody Allen’s and Kevin Smith’s self-referential models to hide behind, but in the last scene there’s nowhere to hide. 
Thanks, Adam McGovern!

Also check out friend of the company Jenn Kim's interview with Qui and I at Pink Ray Gun here.  She came to the show on her birthday.  Amazing.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Sucker Punch

This is an article/rant about the geek world vs. Zach Snyder and the reaction from fans of comic book material to adaptations/appropriations of it in pop culture.  Fascinating and well written.

Read it here.

AICN interview with Yuen Woo Ping

I liked this interview with fight choreography legend Yuen Woo Ping.  Here's my favorite part, as it's something I've been trying to ariculate for a long time regarding fights in movies these days.  You can read the whole thing here.

I’m not afraid of long takes, because long takes have more visual power. As you said, you can just sit there and watch the whole scene all together and it’s more enjoyable. The second reason is because it’s more realistic. It’s not fake. You can see very movement and every action in the fight through long takes. If it’s filmed with short takes, all you see is just the editing work, not the actual martial arts work. It’s just really important for you to see every movement is not fake. There definitely are a lot of difficulties with filming long takes, because you have to do it in sequence and all together, so the point is the actors must know martial arts. If they don’t know martial arts, I will train them to let them get into it.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Provocation and Racial Humor

 Theatre, in the main, deals with provocation.  It uses bodies and words to express thoughts and feelings very immediately.  Because it is dramatic it often deals with controversy and the underbelly of human relationships.  Therefore, to participate in watching it is an act of bravery and courage.  It is not easy to spend time in the underbelly, but that is where we learn the most about ourselves; from the areas we ignore for comfort's sake. 

People always say edgy racial humor has to be looked at from the perspective of the people behind it: what was their intention?  Is the joke coming from a place of love, hate, ignorance, thoughtlessness or keen attention?  Are they using comedy to shine a light or for an easy laugh?  I think Chris Rock is a genius comedian and he is clearly as smart as they come, but the jokes themselves could wound an audience in the wrong hands.

It's not always possible to know the intention of the artist.   So what then?  If you're watching something funny but think it might be offensive, or you think something is racist but is supposed to be can you tell whether or not the artist can get away with it?

What are the signals that let you know can trust the artist enough to allow them to transgress politeness and safety with you?

I don't know, actually.  Probably that the work is somehow a reflection of the artist as a person.  That's the big one.  Every race has an iteration of "I know, right?" comedy that skewers the culture they grew up in.

Another indicator is the emotional subtext.  Are the jokes mean-spirited?  Are the laughs cheap because they are based solely on an accent or underlining what makes X or Y different?  Is it mocking or well-articulated?  Is it a roast or a rant?

With a play, for example, is the joke delivery method being used this way for a reason? A lot of good clowning and comedy is based on creating goofy characters who speak funny, but are the jokes in the service of something more?

There really is no accounting for the feelings of all people, but most racism in comedy is cheap.  Usually you can tell whether the intentions of the creators are enlightened or not. 

Qui Nguyen's play The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G deals with race.  A lot.  It also deals with sex, class, war, and responsibility.  It deals with reconciling who you are with the American dream.  It deals with the collision between your own life and the life you give to your art.  It is hilariously irreverent and will likely ruffle a lot of feathers.  I know the artists and I know their intentions.  Come check it out for yourself.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


New Yorkers are famous for being cold.  They bump you out of the way with their shoulders on the sidewalk even if there's room.  They say things like, "Fuck you if you can't take it."  They thrive on hardship and adversity because they can then claim how hardcore they are for surviving it.  Not everyone is this way.  They can also be incredibly generous and kindhearted, but make no mistake: those are some of the coldest, hardest streets on Earth and you need thick, thick skin to walk them.

So coming from this harsh, unforgiving environment to sunny California and the laidback atmosphere has been a lot to handle.  I usually don't warm up to people until I've known or worked with them for months, remaining guarded until the New York facade thaws.  (A lot of my friends are actors I've been in shows with and they will probably tell you I wasn't that much fun to hang out with until we were in production.)

So imagine my dismay when discovering that film sets are basically like the first day of rehearsal of a play.  No one knows anyone and the first tentative overtures to friendship are loaded with baggage.  People talk up how important they are and who they've worked with.  They try out jokes and see how far they can go.  They flirt and try too hard.  I really have not experienced this level of open salesmanship before and it appears to be an L.A. thing.  In New York, yes actors were a commodity, but here they are also the pitchman.  Performing is only a third of what The Actor in L.A. is; the other two parts are advertising and advertising.

For a long time I worked in a New York theatre circle that respected good work and would promote from within based on merit.  The salesmanship and self-promotion could've been better on my part, but I felt like I could make a name for myself based on the acclaim of the work itself--which is all artists really care about anyway.  Making work.

Well, that got me only so far.  In the position I'm in right now, getting hired means having a website, a reel, headshots, postcards, a top class with a top casting director that has stars dropping by, and an oversized personality.  (Part of capturing "the truth" on film also means that the talent is skewed towards improv performers and non-actor wildmen like Puck from the Real World who are unpredictable.)  I may have always been the CEO of a business called "Paco the Actor," but while in NYC I must have given power of attorney to the art department and they ran the place into the ground.

I'm proud of the work I've done and the career I've carved out for myself, but opportunity is something to  always be searching for actively and that's never been clearer to me than here in Los Angeles.  You have to bring your A-game every time out and get yourself out there in every way you can.  Online, in the face, in the ear, on a postcard.  Never rest.

L.A. Domination Phase One: Student Films

I've been doing student films.  They've got high-quality equipment, brief shooting schedules, and opportunities for networking.  The personnel have also been told by professionals what professional conduct is and aspire to it.  (For those keeping score, Phase Two is to take my newly improved bad-ass reel and score L.A. representation.  Phase Three is go out on big time auditions that will bring home the bacon. Phase Four: commence domination.)

I have participated in five productions since I've been here and have learned a ton.  Perhaps the most important thing I can offer so far of that knowledge is this:


Simple, right?  Yes and no.  It takes a lot of stamina to stay focused and in the game take after take, and there is a lot of waiting around.  It really helps me to envision the end product and to keep in mind that everyone is working hard to make you look good... no matter how little they actually pay attention to you.

This was a hard lesson for me to get drilled into my brain.  Do people on film sets really pay little attention to the actors?  It can certainly feel that way.   It's not so much that they aren't paying attention to you as it's they're paying more attention to their own jobs (which have nothing to do with your feelings or ego. Another hard lesson.)

On a film shoot, the director is trying to make the conditions optimal for "capturing" moments, like lightning in a bottle.  So they'll spend hours tweaking the lights or switching filters or changing the frame so that when the actors get there, the chemistry between the characters can crackle and the flashes of lightning will be contained in a flawlessly composed bottle.  I've found film directors are not really into rehearsal because capturing a scene also means capturing "real" reactions and running it too many times can lead to a "canned" performance.*  I thought this was a load of poop until I started seeing it happen in people's work.   The camera is just too close. It sees everything.  It can tell if you are ahead of the curve as opposed to really in the moment.  When you don't know what the other actor is going to do, it really makes your body come alive and be a receptive instrument.  When we are receptive we may do things physiologically that we don't even know we're doing, and that is the very juice that film directors want to get.  The rawness of truth.

*David Fincher is only one famous exception to this, having shot 99 takes of the opening scene of The Social Network.  "To beat the acting out of them" to get to the truth.  Hmmm.

This need for conditions to be right entails every department needing the director to answer their 500 technical questions.  The director constantly has their attention on deciding something.  Adding more something here, racking focus a touch sooner there or something similar.  This means that you have your own questions about how the scene went and they...kind of can't deal with it right now.  I have frequently felt the need to have my performance validated, or at least commented upon, but you really have to just let them tell you if they need something different and trust yourself.  Twenty people hold their breath when the camera rolls, and maybe three of them are thinking about your work.  The rest are looking at the shadows on the wall or the glare on a window or if your hair is coming undone.  "It's a director's medium," they said and they weren't kidding.

And it's not a bad thing, it's just a different thing.  Theater actors are used to getting fawned over.  We get a full month of a director's undivided attention.  Big moments in a play are agreed upon/constructed together after hours of hot debate and mutual negotiation.  Once everything is blocked and everyone has come to a consensus and you're ready to go, the director turns their attention to the technical elements and the actors are on their own.  In film, you're in tech the whole time. (This is not news or even a new analogy, but like I said, I had to drill it in there because it's so different and repeating it here just makes sense.)

Constantly starting and stopping in the middle of lines, readjusting to hit marks...sometimes you'll give an amazing reading and you'll have to do it again because the boom was in the shot or a plane went by.  There really does always seem to be a plane going by.  Every time there's a new camera setup you wait for what feels like forever and maybe you haven't even said your first line yet.

Most people find tech to be the worst part of doing a play because of the starting and stopping and the slamming on of the brakes in the middle of getting your moment on.  I felt that way until recently.  In fact, each time you do a take you get another opportunity to knock it out of the park.  If you're having trouble with the mechanics of the scene or a certain moment you get to give it another shot.  Another chance to get it closer to honesty or truthfulness.  Because your scenes are thoroughly broken down into their component parts, you get to be highly specific with every beat.  And we all want specificity, right?

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Los Angeles

I'm in L.A. now.  It's amazing.

The Weather
I was secretly terrified of the weather, that it would be like summer year-round.  Dismally hot and sticky, with deadly strength-sapping humidity like I'd become accustomed to after 8 years in NYC.  Actually, here it's closer to my favorite time of year, Fall, mostly cool and breezy but nice and hot in the sun.  Well, the sun is everywhere.  My favorite phrase to describe the sun in the time I've spent here is, "It's beating down on me!"  I usually say this in the car with Kate because she blasts the heat no matter the season or time of day so that adds to the effect.

This is right outside our house from the porch.  We also have a backyard complete with lawn chairs from the previous tenants.

The Neighborhood
I am living with Kate and two roommates in a big-ish place in Silverlake.  Silverlake has ritzy spots and depressed spots but we're in a great family neighborhood on a tree-lined street minutes away from Brooklyn-esque culture like coffee shops, thrift stores, vegan restaurants and a great vintage movie theater.  Our house is in the vicinity of Los Feliz, Echo Park,and Sunset Junction, so there is a lot of great people watching and atmosphere.

Santa Monica Blvd and N. Hoover St.

I've had the good fortune to be able to connect right away with friends of mine who've made the trip out before me and their wisdom has been invaluable.  Getting to know a whole new business culture and entertainment industry protocol is going to take some time, but thanks to my friends going to endless coffees and hang-out dates with me, it won't take as long as it might otherwise.  If any of my New York theater friends are reading this and thinking of moving into film, start now with your on-camera projects.  Having a reel is absolutely critical.  Go to NYU or Columbia or wherever you need to to get yourself on film.  I've seen a bunch of really cool independent actor-generated footage and I encourage you to make that kind of stuff or find it in NYC.  I was fortunate enough to have an NYU thesis film, a Law&Order, and some good indie stuff in the can already, so I'm assembling it now and putting my own together.  More on that soon.

Vegan Restaurant

In New York, "one-on-ones" are the meetings you can take with Casting Directors and Agents.  Here, they're called "workshops".  I've been doing a lot of these in an effort to jump start my name-recognition for pilot-season given that I've only just got here. 

I've also got a profile on Casting Networks (you have to sign up again if you've already got one on the East Coast--"different servers" they said) and have been submitting myself to some cool projects.  I've been called in for a bunch of things and booked most of them, although whether or not I opted ultimately to DO them has been mixed.  The film work I have is mostly from 2005-ish, so the more I can get myself in something recent, the better.  Nobody cares about Off-Broadway because they don't know what it is.  If they can't put it in a DVD player, it never happened.  Awesome.

Kate on a picnic this summer

With Dalton at Venice Beach

Griffith Observatory, right by our house
Dalton and Louise on their visit

I played a DP in a plagued student film, here's my cast shot for the credits.  Broad comedy, people.
More to come!