the one about Adventure Now

I have a few recommendations for anyone who finds themselves in one of those days where you're sicky, or where the weather is blustery and you don't feel like reading (and who does?), or where you just want to enjoy a webseries.


First is "Dorm Life" (funny for anyone who went to college or ever had a roommate). Second is "Good Job, Thanks" (outrageously funny for actors and casting directors).


Third is "Adventure Now." Originally a film project for Fuge camps, each season follows a guy named Walt on his increasingly awesome adventures.


I see a quality in the lives of certain people that I desire. My actor friend from game night constantly has a new audition to prepare for, a new rehearsal to attend, a new state to fly to for filming a new movie. Another friend works for Coach Carroll and the Seahawks. Because of the nature of the sports world, every day at work brings him something different from the day before, a different place to travel to, different sights to see. Someone like Kari Jobe always has an exciting writing/recording session to tweet about, an exciting place to lead worship, an exciting new song to release.


Are you seeing the desirable quality here?


My life lacks a sense of adventure that I so desperately want.


I'm not saying I'm not on an adventure. "The kid moves away from the comfort of suburbia to pursue acting in Los Angeles" sounds like an adventure to a T. But when the two years since graduating college can be summed up in "has learned a lot but, if we're being pragmatic, is nowhere closer to an acting career"... then dang. The sense of the adventure isn't there.


I mean, if I were reading any sort of adventure story, I would want the book to start with more excitement than my life adventure story has started with.


I know that part of this problem is my attitude. I choose how to see my life, to an extent. But on the other hand, 


part of this is real.


Perhaps this is a quarter-life crisis--a problem inextricable from youth. I'm looking at my peers and freaking out. I'm looking at my parents' generation, thinking about where they were in their lives at my age, and freaking out more.


The truth is: I have a fear that my life won't be awesome. I know my life is blessed beyond comprehension. But after all the promises about destiny,


after all the prophecies about my life,


after everything I've hoped I would do,


after everything I know about the character of God,


I fear my life won't be as epic as I've dared to dream it will be... because it makes no sense to me why it doesn't yet look even a tiny bit like I think it should.


My dad recently showed me a new perspective. He reminded me that, as I figure out my cause, and if everything seems to be off to a slow start, there's satisfaction to be found in knowing that God is pleased with a son that is willing to be obedient. In some seasons, seeking Him is the only activity He's worried about.


All that's very true and very comforting, but as Stella Adler truthfully noted, "We get nervous when we don't have something to do." Pleased as God may be, it's part of my nature to feel unfulfilled in just being willing. Basically, now that I've dealt with my envy for other people's success, I'm left with an unfulfilled desire for a sense of adventure. What am I supposed to do with that?


Several months ago, my church announced that Dec 11 would be "Miracle Offering Sunday," meaning it'll be a day where you give an offering of a size that shows that your faith is expecting something miraculous. A few months ago, I felt God impress on my heart a monetary number that freaked me out. I've always been a tither, but this number for an offering above my tithe was probably 15 or 20 times the largest offering I've ever given. It was about equal to what I pay in rent each month.


So I started saving. In the last few weeks, I really sacrificed a lot of luxuries in order to have that much money ready by the 11th. I was a little short on Sunday, so I went to the ATM and withdrew what I needed to make the goal. I withdrew, almost literally, my last dollar.


Service was amazing, but I was nervous the entire time because I knew that the offering was happening at the end of service.


God, this is my rent money You're asking me to give. Just making sure that's clear.


God, don't you know that I won't be making that much money waiting tables this month?


God, I ain't gonna have no money for Christmas presents this year.


All these thoughts swirled through my mind until I walked to the front and left that money on the altar. I slowly walked back to my seat.


And I cried.


I cried so hard.


I'd never felt like such a scared little kid


desperately clinging to the belief that this is what God wanted me to do.


I prayed, Lord, I'm believing you for a lot of things, but mostly, I want a sense of adventure returned to my life.


I was largely distracted the rest of the day until someone at church, out of nowhere, handed me a check. He said he was blessed by me and knew that a lot of other families were also blessed by my servanthood, so he wanted to bless me back. Later that night, I opened the check and was shocked to find the check was for


double the amount I had given in the offering.


Two times the amount exactly.


I was freaking. A wave of divine assurance washed over me like never before. I hadn't really asked the Lord for money, but he had taken what I had given, doubled it, and given it back


on the very same day.


At the same time, He had reassured me of the adventure I'm on. I believe the sense of my unique adventure is 


on the way.


A mere mortal


From the City of Angels


Livin his dream

the one about Game Night

Movie! One word! One syllable! Short! Shorty! Small! Little kid! Sounds like "me"? Sounds like "you"? Sounds like "myself"? Half that? Sounds like "my"? Sounds like "self"? ELF!

One of the best things about being an actor and having actor friends is Game Night on Sunday nights. It's nothing complicated. Mostly you get to meet new people and play epic rounds of charades.

At Game Night a couple weeks ago, a good friend of mine was there. He and I met while we were both hosting at a restaurant near Beverly Hills one summer. This friend, fresh off a movie with Vivica Fox, has been extremely blessed in his acting career. He asked how my acting has been going.

"It's not," I stated dryly. "Why?" he asked, truly not understanding. I replied, "You have a really awesome agent and manager team that gets you auditions all the time. I don't." Then he asked me why I didn't have a good agent. Right, I thought, because I can just go out an get one that easy. This is already a kind of touchy subject (if you read the one about Relentlessness). Slightly annoyed, I asked him how to get a good agent. As if it was the most logical thing ever, he replies, "You go to agent showcases where good agents go."


We talked about the specifics of which showcase to attend the next day. And I plan on observing one next week. So this is a step in a direction that I haven't tried yet.


This friend is invested in my success and also an awesome Christian brother. Thing is, it can also seem to be a very discouraging person to have in your life.


I look at this friend


with virtually the same training as I have,


same age,


the same youthful energetic vibe,


who started in literally the same hosting restaurant job as me,


and I wonder what in the world is going on? I told someone later that ultimately, my problem isn't at all with my friend, but that it's with God. 


"God, why does it seem like you favor one son over the other? Why does your son over here have a career while your son Jonathan has been left 


frustrated and confused


for years?


God, what the hell?"


Turns out that I really needed to hear a sermon called Running on Envy.


Rarely do we hear anything about how dangerous envy is. It is sin crippling to our futures. It exposes a very wrong view of how we see ourselves and our Father.


For most of us, it's not that we aren't happy when others are successful. Our problem surfaces when others are more successful than we are.


Whoa! I'm better than she is. I work harder than he does. What I do is awesome compared to what they do. Why do they get that? What's going on?


See it? The wrong mindset? I did. Envy caused the religious leaders to have Jesus crucified. Christ, more righteous than the innocent Abel, came to take the place of the guilty Cain. I had to repent. I had to ask God to help me replace envy


with a confident contentment in having the approval of God.


"But if we look forward to something we don't yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently." -- Paul, in Romans 8:25


A mere mortal


From the City of Angels


Livin his dream

the one about Relentlessness (part 1)

Youch. *grimaces*

About six weeks ago, I sat at a Starbucks in Santa Monica talking with a talent manager. (I know. #soLA, right?)

Until that point in time, I hadn't felt the pressing need to blog, because this "Christian Actor" hasn't been doing much acting.

Talk about frustrating.

To catch everyone up on my life since late February, I've joined the worship team at church (what a privilege and a blessing), begun attending a cold-reading workshop for actors and writers (super artsy), taken some casting director workshops, visited the east coast for my sister's college graduation, had an overall boring summer in which I took no vacations because I had no money, moved into a way cooler apartment, attended the wedding of my former roommate (thus the reason for needing to move into a way cooler apartment), won free Chick-fil-A for a year, and I've done a little laundry. Not necessarily in that order.

Getting to the point: it's sadly not too difficult to condense 270 days of my life into a paragraph.

For the most part, 2011 has largely felt like 2010 all over again... except this time, I'm coming up on *two* years out of college.

And all the unanswered questions

and frustrating feelings

and circumstances still not understood

that I *thought* would be resolved -- even if just a little bit --

require an exponentially growing amount of faith in the second year.

Now, if we're being practical, a large part of the reason that this year has felt like a fail is because my agent sucks. (I know a lot of actors say this or something similar, but my agency has got me a grand total of 2 auditions this year. Yeah......)

Dear agent: You're fired.

But of course, one cannot just go hire someone new. I've been in the process of finding new representation. I sent out 60-something postcards (have yet to hear back on those) ...and randomly ended up landing a meeting with this talent manager at Starbucks.

He told me A) that if I ever want auditions for any kind of half-hour comedy, I need some recognizable LA-based standup/improv/sketch training. USC is a great school, but won't cut it with the average casting director. He also told me B) that I'm in nowhere near good enough shape for television.

What?!

He said actors are losing jobs to underwear models, especially on shows and networks marketed to the young crowds. He said, "All the actors on those shows are ripped and shirtless in half their scenes. You're young. There's no reason you shouldn't have a 6-pack."

Youch.

Hard to hear. But okay. There's some truth in what he said, harsh as it was. I've never felt such real pressure to look a certain way in this industry.

A wise man once said in a highly inspiring book:

You will be criticized often. When it is off base, ignore it. When the criticism rings true, use it to improve what you do. Either way keep moving toward your cause.

So you know what? I started taking improv classes. And I'm hittin the gym like a manimal. Drinkin my protein. Being one of those guys.

Cuz if it makes me more capable of moving toward the cause within me, then it's valuable progress.

Take that, 2010.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Chick-fil-A

I'm not kidding. God speaks to me at Chick-fil-A.

Recently, I've been very saddened by goings-on among servers at the restaurant where I work. There are certain little tricks servers can do to pocket an extra couple dollars here and there. (No, I won't tell you what they are.) It's shadiness--at best--and downright embezzlement--at worst.

I honestly can't tell if the managers are clueless or if they're looking the other way.

It bothers me that servers who don't care about service more than I do leave with $20-30 more than me every shift.

My integrity is challenged multiple times...

...every day.

Last week, I was having a particularly rough day. The weather was gloomy. Guests were tipping poorly. I decided to walk to Chick-fil-A on my break.

*Angelic singing*

It was, no exaggeration, a spiritual oasis from the heaviness of my day. I gots me some nuggets. Christian music was playing (as always). There was a group of guys from church there, too.

As I was eating, a Chick-fil-A team member was basically life coaching one of the managers. He talked about scheduling a time for *everything*. Exercise, God, friends, personal time... His encouragement for her was actually inspiring me.

It was awesome.

On top of that, I've been encouraged to continue in doing what is right. There is no underestimating the value of doing the right thing when no one is looking. And with the future God has for me at stake, there's no way I can be sowing seeds of theft, manipulation, deceit and underhandedness.

No.

Way.

Quick update on the career since I blogged last: I am officially SAG-eligible now! This is a huge and long-awaited step forward. I've also been able to put together an actor slate and a short reel... for my new agent! Same agency. Better agent. Also, I get to go to the Oscars dress rehearsal this weekend.

So, God is doing stuff. He's moving, I'm sure (even though I only get to see little glimpses of it here and there).

And He's providing. Providing rent, and my happy place: Chick-fil-A.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Godot

Chances are, you don't have a degree in theatre.

But you've still probably heard of Waiting for Godot or at least it's Nobel Prize-winning playwright Samuel Beckett. The Times (London)--and I'm pulling this quote off the back cover here--called it, "One of the most noble and moving plays of our generation, a threnody of hope deceived and deferred but never extinguished..." (Yeah, I had to look up "threnody" too.)

Basically, all you need to know is that two guys seem to wait day after day for a man named Godot who never shows up.

Although the play was originally written in French (and the play-on-words doesn't work in French), many people see Godot as a symbol for God... and that the title could very easily be Waiting for Godot.

I feel like I've been waiting on God for a long time.

To clarify, I feel like I've been waiting for God to bring me into the destiny as an artist that I've been called to. I can look back at my life and see how much I've grown and how much He's prepared me for this job... but a lot of times I wonder if it's even coming.

I'm sure you feel or have felt the same way, too.

"There's gotta be more to it than this."

"How much longer can I go before I decide that I was wrong?"

"Sure, dreams can change, but isn't that just a cop out for quitting what you loved first?"

Whether or not you're a surviving artist, these are big questions even when the biggest questions about meaning and eternity seem figured out.

However, right now, I seem to be waiting less on God (which I was sort of getting used to, in a manner of speaking), and waiting more on people.

In mid-September I had an audition for Tokyo Disney. This would be a huge 13-month commitment with no home leave, beginning next spring. A big change, a big risk, but a big opportunity.

Now, I already work for the Mouse, subbing in the "Celebrate: A Street Party" parade. I made it through every round of cuts until they took my measurements, pictures, contact info, etc. They even gave me their contact info (so you know they're serious). Casting decisions were supposed to be finished by "the 2nd week of October."

But that didn't happen.

A couple weeks ago, I started trying to make contact with people in casting. I finally got a hold of someone Stateside who said they are still in the process of making offers but should be wrapped up by the end of the month.

Well, that hasn't happened either.

And I haven't wanted to throw myself into staying or leaving since I don't know what I'm doing. But I can't just sit around for weeks that turn into months waiting on people.

So, I'm deciding (as I type this, really) to pursue a manager, become SAG-eligible, save up the $2277 to become SAG, get into acting/dance/voice classes, work out (ugh...), etc.

I want to make myself available to God, but I also want to make myself the best instrument possible for my craft.

I don't really love absurdist theatre (helloooo! ...it's absurd!), but I do appreciate how The Times mentioned that for all its search for beauty in life's uncertainty and even pain, Waiting for Godot is about a hope "never extinguished."

Reminds me of something I once read...

Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Marc

I know it's the gloomy weather.

Partly, anyway.

But I regularly go through seasons where I feel, mm, not depressed, but sort of disappointed, I suppose.

For a long time, I didn't know how to describe how I felt. Then, several years ago, a friend introduced me to singer Marc Broussard. I connected to his music on several levels. A) He's blue-eyed soul. B) Half his songs are romantic and of much more intimate and mature fare than the Top 40 I've grown to love/hate. C) The other half of his songs expressed exactly how I feel in those "down" times.

As I read up a bit on Marc, a music critic described the feeling exactly:

World-weary.

That's so spot-on for how I feel. And it's weird cuz I'm not cynical. I'm not old. I'm in my young 20's and I'm freakin already world-weary.

...Huh?

I've boiled it down to the reason why--

Recently, I saw my very first midnight tribute showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'd wanted to go for a long time cuz I'm a theatre kid who's never seen it. Plus, Glee is doing a Rocky Horror episode this week... and I didn't wanna be clueless. So we dressed up. And went.

It was *crazy*.

And so much fun. If you've never been, I can hardly describe it as anything else. Well, maybe "insane." But that's the same. There's at least an hour of pre-show ritual, then two hours of movie with time warping, leather, transvestites, Meatloaf, singing, the throwing of water into the audience, the throwing of insults at the screen, the throwing of toilet paper, a young Susan Sarandon (way way before Thelma and Louise), and aliens.

Yes, aliens.

Then I flew to the annual epic Halloween party of my adopted Maryland family.

It, too, was *crazy*.

And so much fun. Catered food, at the very least 50+ cardboard cutouts of iconic film characters, a dj and dance floor, a photographer, costumes everywhere, musical theatre performances, swimming, and a drag performance by a straight man.

And in all of these over-the-top experiences of merriment, silliness and sheer craziness, God gave me the two-part reason for my world-weariness:

The world has so so much to offer. Yet this world has nothing for me.

I've had so much fun bonding with people over common experiences--and I'm not denying the importance of relationships with people--yet outside of eternal significance,

it's all pointless.

It's like, "Ecclesiastes. Dude, hi."

Which is why I *have* to act. I have a mission statement:

1) To develop and rock the talent God has given me, in order
2) To bring an experience of God as he really is to the artists and creators of Hollywood, and
3) To empower like-minded Christian artists do the same.

I pray that my mission facilitates conversations and relationships and experiences of eternal significance. Cuz aside from that, what's life's? Just Marc Broussard's world-weary songs? Y'know?

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Beverly

God is hysterically funny sometimes.

Let me tell you a story. A story about an acting teacher I once had:

More than two years ago, early summer, my fraternity brother and I were walking to dinner when a woman in possibly her late 50s approached us. She was a black woman, about 5'2", visibly not homeless, her graying hair pulled back into a bun.

She told us her name was Beverly.

She asked us if either of us had AAA Premium (or something like that) because she needed her car to be towed. The understanding was that this premium level of AAA service allowed for the member to not be present at the site where the tow truck would come, but since neither my brother nor I had this status, it was a moo point. Her car was several blocks away, had already been ticketed for leaking anti-freeze into the environment, and was in danger of being towed by law enforcement to the tune of a couple hundred dollars. If she could get it towed herself, she could could get the job done for about eighty.

She was only $34 short.

Beverly asked, "Could you do a favor for a schoolteacher?"

I told her that if she followed me to an ATM nearby, I could get her the money she needed. She was very grateful and, the entire walk to the machine, she told us about how rewarding an experience teaching is. An earthquake had just happened in L.A., and Beverly explained how she had taught her elementary students about fault lines and earthquake magnitude. She even told us that she once had a student graduate high school and come back and thank her years later.

When we arrived at the ATM, she took my phone number. She told me that, when she was safe at home, she would call me, let me know she was home, and get my money back to me. I withdrew $40, and we parted ways, and Beverly walked out of my life.

As my bro and I entered the dining establishment, it dawned on me that it was quite possible that I would never see that money again and that everything I had just heard was a lie. I waited for a phone call, but of course none ever came.

I'd been conned.

Not only that, but I was an easy con.

I was so angry that I decided to tell myself that I had invested $40 into acting lessons because, indeed, Beverly (if that's even her real name), was a brilliant actress who played her part just as well as she'd played me!

I told God that he'd have to make up that $40 to me someday. I'm pretty sure I'll be waiting on that $40 for a long time....*sighs*.....

But tonight, in the grocery store parking lot, after more than two years, I was again approached by Beverly! She looked exactly the same.

And she didn't recognize me......

Half of me wanted to choke her and yell, "I've dreamed about this night, now where's my $40, b****!"

But of course, I didn't.

She told me she "needed a tow."

She asked me how school was.

She asked me for "some part of $34."

She asked if I had an ATM card on me.

I lied.

But I gave her 75 cents. (My good friend thinks it's outlandish that I gave her any money at all the 2nd time! But I was so fascinated that I wanted to hear her out again.)

I let her borrow my cell phone so she could call her "sick husband and let him know where I am." (I'll probably call that # tomorrow just out of curiosity.)

Then Beverly proceeded to give me a life lesson on respecting the work that women do. Then we parted ways.

If I see her again, maybe I'll confront her about the incident from two years ago. But maybe she's some sort of humorous messenger from God sent to give me acting lessons and life lessons.

Y'never know.

Whatever.

PS--I'm in a PSA. See if you can spot me. Hint: Look for Vanessa Hudgens. :)

Laters, everyone!

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Questions

Ever realize that God doesn't really answer the why's?

I mean, the Bible answers "what." Nature and the world answer "where." The Holy Spirit generally answers "who" and "when." But rarely do we get a "why" answer.

Why does God choose *not* to act?

Why do I keep making stupid decisions (Rom 7)?

Why won't she choose Jesus?

Why do I go to dance auditions only to have them cut the good people?

Why can't life ever be simple?

Why *don't* I have a girlfriend?

Why does my Christian sister keep getting bad news, blow after blow after blow?

And it seems to me that the way we handle these non-answers really shapes our personal faith. So, I get it. That's the reason why we don't get our why's answered.

So before I blog myself into confusion, let me just give the highs and lows of what's been up with me, so you know where all these questions are coming from. I started work at a restaurant adjacent to campus (high--I really need the money and benefits). But it kinda sorta conflicted with the extra work I was doing and I got fired from Central Casting (low--even though extra work didn't mean that much to me). I performed in my hip hop team's dance showcase (high--it was awesome), except I have no idea whether or not my agent came like he said he would (low--he was nowhere to be found after the show). I submitted my online audition for Glee (high--please watch it and give me a gold star!), but I'm pretty positive the casting will not be done off online videos (low--I need a real live audition from my less-than-communicative agent). Yesterday, I had my first day as a parade performer at Disneyland (high--even though it was modified for the rain). It's also the toughest mission field I can think of and two of my role models are moving out of state (low--what am I gonna do?!) I also told camp that I'd be back for two weeks in August and I'm super-stoked (high--I miss my campers and know that God wants me back there).

So, needless to say, lots of questions.

Please pray for me. Pray for my mission field.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Steam

I never thought God would use the random Asian guy to grab my face and point it heavenward.

For the past couple months, I've wrestled with a lack of clear spiritual.... *squints eyes looking for the right word* ...task. You may have read my previous blogs and picked up that the transition out of college hasn't come easily to me. I don't wanna just work on my own spiritual growth.

I've lacked a certain... focus, I guess. And it made me feel disconnected. Just a little. Just enough to be slightly off-putting. This manifested itself for me in a weird spiritual haze.

I experienced a steam room recently (for the first time in a looooong time) at a bro's apartment complex. We were the only ones in the room and we sat at opposite corners. As the steam filled the room, it became more difficult to see him and, in the end, we could hardly see our feet much less the other person. However, the lines of communication were still 100% open. I knew he was there. I could hear him. He told me to look at the ceiling and breathe--which I couldn't do without coughing--and I could hear him laugh at me. But I couldn't see him.

I even went to the Dream Center and heard a very powerful message about taking time out specifically to do nothing except let God love me.

(That's one of the most difficult things ever. If you can, take five minutes to do nothing but let Him love you.

Don't apologize,

don't ask forgiveness,

don't renew failed commitments.

He knows all that. You'll work on it later.

Just let Him love you.

This five minutes could change your life.)

This time at church blew my mind, but I still felt somehow disconnected.

But tonight at AGO, there was a random Asian guy in the prayer room. (Eventually, I learned his name, but that's irrelevant right now.) He heard me singing a JB song and wanted to know if I was down for an impromptu jam/worship sesh. I was. He played guitar, suggesting that we start with an improv'd worship song. Already stoked at God's goodness (because I finally got a job! yeay! and because I had just finished leading the pledge class Bible study), the thankfulness in my heart for God's grace and faithfulness just poured out. Not like in the worship songs I've sung for the past two months. No, this was different. It took this unplanned, heartfelt worship to grab my face and walk me through the steam until I could clearly see the face of my Savior.

In this interim time, in this meantime, one task comes to the forefront: to focus on Christ. To adore Him and become more like him. Maybe this means ravenous reading of the Scriptures. Maybe this means writing songs and poems about how He makes me feel. Maybe this means doing some things that may draw some judgment from people I care about.

Whatever it takes... I'll do freakin anything to become more Christlike.

I never thought God would use the random Asian guy to grab my face and point it heavenward.

But He did.

Thanks, God.

(And thanks, random Asian guy.)

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Dreams

So much has happened. I feel so cool to be in Los Angeles, no longer a student, living the dream.

Then again, nothing's happened, really.

It's weird--making this transition where, after 18 years of my life being filled with classes, I no longer have to be in school. After 2 1/2 years of my spiritual life being largely invested in AGO and USC's spiritual well-being, I no longer have that to pour into. After several years of studying acting, I'm now out in the industry. And after roughly 7 years of working, my only job right now is finding a job.

However, I now have an agent. ...Finally. Not just one that's representing me commercially, but theatrically too. One that's SAG/AFTRA franchised.

I also have put in probably about fifteen job applications at different places nearby, have had interviews at two different places and have a second interview at one of them tomorrow.

Plus, this weekend, I was the personal PA (production assistant) to the director of the musiCares benefit concert at the LA Convention Center--which allowed me industry experience and the privilege to be in the presence of music legends/greats like Neil Young, Sheryl Crow, Keith Urban, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Josh Groban, Tony Bennett, Lady Antebellum, Elton John, etc.

And I ordered new headshots.

So, steps in the right direction. Even though I don't feel like I've hit any real mile markers yet.

I guess I'm just coming to realize how much of the dream is me, working. I mean, Dad often says, "You can't do God's part, and He won't do your part." I just feel as though I've been working and waiting forever.

My friend slash fellow dancer, Kristy Cavinder, became the 1st runner-up in the Miss America pageant last night. She was sensational. Gorgeous. She's got amazing grades (as a pre-med student, not the easiest!), wants to be a pediatric heart surgeon, is the most spectacular ballet dancer I've ever personally seen, has loads of poise and self-confidence, and loves Jesus.

But she didn't win.

All that homework and practice and performing and studying and more practice.

And she hasn't... "arrived."

And that's a good thing. How sad would it be to have arrived at age 21? Where's the rest of one's life go?

So, good for her... and good for me, too. Pastor Matthew said today, "The only way to have longevity in your dream is to have confidence in the God of your dream." We constantly work and strive to protect and achieve our dreams, but the destination will never be reached and the journey's gonna pretty much suck without our confidence resting in Him.

Only

in

Him.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Beginnings

*In this particular entry, I mean no offense to anyone, but I mince no words or feelings. Please read to the end and hear my heart.*

Zechariah 4:6, 10 "...It is not by force nor by strength, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies... Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin...”

Today, out of Christian duty, I finally watched the film Fireproof.

Hated it. Hated it. *Hated* it.

Well, love-hated it, actually. I loved laughing at it.

After which, my love turned to hate.

The Sherwood Picture is created by the Alex and Stephen Kendrick team that made Facing the Giants. Most of the cast for Giants was made of volunteer actors from Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, Georgia. And for its $100,000 budget, it grossed over $10M. Not bad. From what I can tell, Fireproof wasn't much different in its production budget. Except it has Kirk Cameron starring instead of Alex Kendrick. *rolls eyes*

But amateur filmmakers + script with nauseating dialogue + Podunk actors = pitiful pandering

Adding a "Christian" label is a travesty of Christianity that, for me, spells embarrassment.

Crawl-in-a-hole,

embarrassed-to-be-a-Christian,

mortification.

Now, I get that the makers of the film aren't looking to earn any awards with their films. They're aiming to make a wholesome alternative entertainment for Christians. They aren't trying to turn heads in Hollywood.

But that's what's happening.

Whether or not the film is made for Christians, the secular world sees films like this and says, "What a joke! Christianity

is

a

joke."

And it sickens and aggravates me.

Now, of course the flipside to the coin is this: How did I expect them to do better? They truly and honestly did the very best with what they had. Thousands and thousands of families enjoyed these films.

You have to start somewhere.

And I don't have to defend God to the world.

Zechariah 4:6,10. I get all that. I get it. But as a Christian actor, I'm just not sure I can stomach it. Especially when there are films like Amazing Grace that are arguably equally as uplifting and faith-based.

So, *gets on knees* here's my foundational, pretty-pretty-please-take-heed advice for Christian filmmakers on a budget. I say this because it universally applies to film and theatre of all genres and all budgets:

Your first job MUST be to tell a story! NO EXCEPTIONS.

Stories can have Christian themes or messages. But messages--secular, Christian, or otherwise--disguised in film clothing fall flat, feel fake, pander.

Outside of that, I can't ask for anything else. I pray God uses Christian films to bring glory to His name. I pray that Christian filmmakers grow into excellence. I pray these humble beginnings see their victory in the end.

Until then (and this is a whole different topic), I can really only see myself being salt and light outside the church, not creating Christian films, but being Jesus to the film industry. But I certainly can't do that with a critical, unloving spirit in my heart.

Right? (;

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Home

Sorry (to all three of my faithful readers) that I haven't blogged in a while. This blog is, by definition, about my acting life. Alack, I've been with family for Christmas and not in LA. Thus, minimal acting and therefore no blogging. *upper lip curls*

But tonight I thought I'd write about being home. At the church my dad and mom pastor, I did get the opportunity to let my creative juices flow... or at least ooze. I used the church announcements to re-write the words to Beauty and the Beast's song "Be Our Guest." My sister and I then performed and recorded what I called "Announcements: The Musical!" You can see that here. Also, I adapted an SNL sketch from their Christmas episode for a sketch (theatre majors much prefer the word "sketch" to a "skit") applicable to Dad's Sunday message "Prince of Peace."

Anyways, visiting East is always enjoyable, but never satisfying. It's much like a fun vacation--no matter how much you enjoy it, at some point you will want it to be over.

You want to go home.

Mom says, "Home is where your mother is." I get that. But it isn't true. Even if she went with me on the vacation somewhere, I would eventually want to go home. The USC School of Theatre plays on the old axiom, saying, "Home is where your art is." But if acting took me to Japan, would I feel home? Not necessarily. I visit my "home church" in Tampa Bay, and thoroughly enjoy seeing friends. But it's no longer home. Is home where you know people love you? No. Is home the place you feel most comfortable taking a huge poo? Close. No cigar, though.

I told Mom, "Home is where your life is." I was wrong again.

I really think home is actually where Life has you. I mean, home is where Jesus has called you to be. Anywhere else can be pleasant, but never ultimately satisfying.

I know the Master has me in L.A. However, my life is in so much transition right now, I can't definitively say what's next for me. And as 2009 has only 5-plus hours left, I still don't know what kind of spiritual goals I can set for myself. I have career goals: get an agent again, start becoming financially independent. I have personal goals: budget, lift weights. But spiritual goals? Measurable spiritual goals?

All I know is 2 Cor. 5:9 -- "Therefore, whether we are at home [on earth away from Him] or away from home [and with Him], we are constantly ambitious and strive earnestly to be pleasing to Him."

And I'll need His grace to do it. (I know I said I'd write about John Bevere and grace. And I will. Soon. Until then...)

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Neoteny

We were so silly, the four of us.

At about 2:00 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day, my three friends and I were in a Rite Aid drugstore in Santa Ana, California. We bought a few things, but we were there for a certain express purpose: to put on a spontaneous musical theatre performance. Not an hour earlier, we had decided to amuse ourselves by changing the words to the Beauty and the Beast song “Be Our Guest” to “I Need Drugs.” We then performed it at unsuspecting 24-hour locations. (Of course, the footage is on youtube. Of course not, I’m not telling you where to find it. In fact, half the freaks on youtube are capitalizing on what I’m about to blog today…)

The first drugstore’s employees gave us a standing ovation. (Granted, there were only two working at the time. But still generous, considering that our performance was completely unrehearsed.) We decided to try a Walgreens; the manager stopped us half-way through and kicked us out.

There’s something to be said about society’s repression of creativity and fun through making people feel foolish. It was difficult enough mustering up the courage to sing and dance in a drugstore!

I just finished one of the most fascinating chapters of nonfiction I’ve ever read: “The Importance of Looking Foolish” from In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day. He mentions a study that found that 98% of children between the ages of three and five score in the genius category for creative thinking and another study that about 100% of first grade students consider themselves to be artists.

What happens? I’m sure you can look back on your own story and decide the answer.

I’ve always considered myself to be really youthful, and a lot of my friends help me stay that way. I love working with kids. I’ve always looked five years younger than I am. I own (slash love) a pair of Heely’s.

Still, I feel the pressure to seem “mature” and not “childlike.”

My new fav word is neoteny, meaning “the retention of youthful qualities by adults.”

World-changers have to get over the fear of looking foolish. And Jesus’ grace is the way to do that. (More to come on grace and the mind-changing message John Bevere gave at the Dream Center.) Jesus came to “proclaim that captives will be released.” This means more than freedom from sin; it also means getting us out of the psychological straightjacket we’ve gotten ourselves into.

I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of Heaven.

My fraternity name is “hiphoponpop” or “hiphop” for short. I’m almost always dancing to the music in my head, whether I realize it or not. People have called me crazy, fruity, whatever. But I’ve seen that most people, with the right song blasting, go crazy dancing. (Like Elaine doing her thumbs-kicks-dance on Seinfeld.) We may look crazy, but…

“Those who hear not the music think the dancer is mad.”

Who’s really crazy? Me? The dancer who doesn’t care what people think? Or is the people who can’t hear the music?

Jesus didn’t care what society thought of him; young kids don’t either; King David didn’t either. He said,

“I am willing to act like a fool in order to show my joy in the Lord. Yes, and I am willing to look even more foolish than this.”

I want to be willing to look foolish if it means living life to the fullest.

In update news: I have a place to live next semester. Yeay! Praise God and thank you for your prayers. I still need a job, though. So, keep praying!

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream

the one about Misogyny

No, I'm not going to spend this blog crying about the women in my life. (And some are definitely worth crying about...)

But am I going to talk about my experience at Isabel Allende's lecture at Bovard Auditorium? Yes. To catch you up, if you're not an avid magical realism reader, Isabel is the daughter of slain (debated) Chilean President Salvador Allende who has written all sorts of famous works of fiction, including her famous The House of Spirits. Anyways, I went to hear her speech because I like the magical realism genre and because it was extra credit to go for my "Peoples and Cultures of the Americas" (aka "Studies in Brazilian Gay Porn") class.

She's a lovely woman, very intelligent, obvi. She's also a self-proclaimed feminist.

Gross.

Or so I thought before I went.

I think that she helped me understand at least the mindset behind some of the "girl power" talk that used to make me roll my eyes. Not that I agree with it all, neither do a lot of non-feminist women.

She began by talking about the importance of female energy. I completely understood what she meant. Us theatre students, we get a lot of talk about different "energy." In business, they prefer to call energy "attitude." It's all the same, really. But contrasting with the modus operandi of men, when women are under pressure, Isabel pointed out that they usually don't respond with violence. Instead, they respond with greater relational and emotional intensity. She didn't claim that this was better 100% of the time, but at least valuable 100% of the time. She is a feminist who advocates for more balance in masculine-feminine energy and for the protection of the women whose rights seems so invisible in most underprivileged countries.

Sounds so noble, doesn't it?

...Doesn't it?

Then I began thinking about all this stuff Biblically. *Sighs in relief as sanity returns* We all have different gifts (Rom 12), and yes we should choose peace whenever possible (also Rom 12). But I think that feminism in general looks to distort the lines of what gifts we all have. Instead of embracing feminine qualities and doing a good job of being women, feminism attempts to put men and women in each others' places. And yes, we do all have a "place."

I don't know that Jesus would ever "jokingly" tell a woman to get to "her place" in the kitchen. That's misogyny, and I'm pretty sure that's not so okay with the Son of Man, Word? *smiles at Christian pun* However, I do think that if a woman ever offered to make Him a sandwich, He would've said "You, woman, are a keeper!"

I'm sure more artistic or life news will be on its way soon. Til then, the new OneRepublic album is worth your money. Ryan Tedder is one of my heroes. He could be yours too.

A mere mortal

From the City of Angels

Livin his dream