Hello Old Friend

So, it has been around a month since I wrote here.  Everytime I visit this page I think I should write, but then I decide I have nothing that I really want to say here.  I think I’ve become comfortable talking to myself and considering that’s the majority of what this is about as of now, I find little use for it.  I suppose I should keep it updated and I think I will.  I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions, but I think I’ll attempt to store as much of my days in here as I can.  It’s good to look back and be reminded of the things I was thinking.  Sometimes it’s a good solace. 

And after all, I spend a good deal of my time living in memories.  Most people discuss how this is unhealthy, but I believe, in moderation, it is important to remember.  It is just my nature to not diminish the existence of anyone by simply forgetting them.  What they meant to me is important…sometimes even on subliminal levels so I attempt to consciously appreciate this by recognizing their impact on my life…the impact of just having been there in whatever role and for however long.  And thus I should pay the same homage to you, dear OD.   You have been a tireless refuge.

Christmas and the New Year have gone by.  A new year is in store.  Here is something a lot don’t know, but only a few will learn as only a few will read this.  Which is fine.  When I first moved out here I got my headshots done.  I like them.  Most people seem to as well.  I submitted them to a few agencies without making any fuss or letting anyone know that I was doing it.  Mostly, because I try to keep that aspect of my life to myself.  There is this ugly tendency in people to hear I’m in North Hollywood, that I’m pursuing acting, that I write…that I have something going up in New York for a brief period in small theatre and they get all…flustered.  I don’t enjoy it.  I know they feel they’re being excited for me…but they’re being excited for themselves.  They are feeling good that someone they know is doing well and it is with the best of intentions that they get the way they are.  That is fine.  I recognize that.  But if I was to ask a favor of all of them, of anyone, it’s to be excited…but don’t…I don’t know.   Say "Great!" and mean it.  But don’t talk about my successful future or question me as to what this means for my career.  Cuz I don’t know what it means.  Cuz there’s no answer. 

Most of what I have to do is get my work out there and done and hope that someone likes it that is in a position to do something about it, and that requires chance and dedication.  Which is back to my point.  So, I submitted my headshots when I got them, not too long after arriving.  I sent them only to a few reliable agencies but I only recieved one or two responses with anything besides a "Thanks but No."  It wasn’t the most optimal time.  I had missed the pilot season by a few weeks having needed time to establish myself out here after a long delay due to trying to please parents who could not be pleased, but I make no real excuses, they were just not interested. 

Last year I didn’t submit.  I’m not sure why.  I was not in a pleasant frame of mind perhaps.  I was extremely busy.  I was financially worried again.  But mostly I just didn’t do it.  This year is looking a little worrisome as well.  The Writer’s strike is threatening to go into the summer and Reality TV is taking over the air.  Pilot season is going to be slim for non-reality shows but still, many agencies do take on new contracts and you never know what you might get.  I’m working on submissions already and we’ll see where that goes.  And that’s all I’m going to say about it.

I’m focusing more on writing lately.  I do it in short spurts.  I’m one of those writers who you hardly ever catch writing…I tend to write things in my head and then transpose them onto the page.  This tends to leave me a bit motivationless if my brain gets too far ahead which it often does because I’m not always in a place to rush to the keyboard or whip out a notebook to write in.  But I suppose that doesn’t happen much anymore…the lack of motivation.  It was more a problem during periods of greater discontent, which isn’t now at all.  Nevertheless, I’m working on my writing again, working step by step on my first book, which I began a long time ago and then set aside because I was moving to California and then because I was writing One Acts for Wayne and other excuses.  I worked on it in really short spurts and have continued.  What is written I feel is strong and I hope to strengthen it more in the near future…but first I need to finish the first draft.  I’m a relentless re-reader of my own work and it catches me up…as I edit a lot repeatedly in an attempt to bolster and unify the work. 

As I read all this I feel I shouldn’t have written it for others to read.  A part of me desires no need to justify myself like this.  It’s the frustrating part about being a writer or an actor…or being who I am.  One, I have my method and if it does not lead to the success that everyone expects of me, so be it.  I can’t rush my work.  I won’t.  The work is more important than the recognition and I know I will finish it and have it published.  It will be on MY time.  The other truth is that I am happy with me.  Happy may not be the word.  Satisfied is more correct.  I am satisfied with who I am, how I think, how I feel, and how I approach growing, changing, and becoming a better person.  I am satisfied with my life.  If I died, I would be all right with it.  Certainly there would be no monuments to my name and achievements, nothing you could recognize as the mark that Brad Jennings physically left on the world.  But I have been a part of many people’s lives and many of them think of me fondly….and I think of them fondly, too.  I cherish their memories and the experiences we have together and I think that is more important than writing a book, becoming a doctor, building a museum, or making movies.  And certainly, we all do what I have done.  We all have an impact upon each other.  So why is it that we can’t recognize the significance of it?  It is another great frustration of mine that people can actually forget or attempt to eradicate the memory of someone from their life.  It is not an ideal I’m comfortable with.

It is now 9:30 and I should focus on doing a little work here at…well…work.  I will post again very soon with a very short story I decided to write.  Like all things, it just came upon me in a moment of clarity and forced its way to my fingers.  I hope all is well with those who still read this.