Why networking is not working

I know people. I like those people I know. Why do I need to meet more people? Oh, for my career, right.

As an actor, I have to go out and meet people and be seen. Not something I should do, but something I have to do. Every single week, a bunch of actors and major(ish) players in the Portland film community (including the casting director in town) have drinks at the MoHo. Tonight was my first night there. I was surprised to see I knew about a third of the people there. I even liked most of them, which is always a bonus. The problem is when I wonder why I am there. To see people I haven't seen in a while is nice, but I think the reason people go there is to be seen. This is the biggest thing I do not like about actors, we are needy. Yes, we need attention, but these weekly social gatherings make good career sense in that you are seen by your peers or whatever, and you get to know people in the community, so when you walk onto a set or into an audition, you already know a bunch of the other people there. You are in.

I know that it's not who you know, but who knows you that counts in this career, this city, this world. What if I'm just tired of meeting new people? I'm sure I would enjoy them once I got to know them, I am earnestly positive that they are mostly intriguing people, but why do I have to meet them all? I already have too many friends and family to keep track of. I've wanted to catch up with so many people and just not. I feel no urge to go out and meet more people I won't have time to follow up with. I have connections with people I've known since before I could grow facial hair, heck, even before the hair on the top of my head started to recede. Now that's history.

Am I a stick in the mud, an old man who wants to stay where he is comfortable? Yes. I'm okay with that. Should I go out and meet all these people working in the industry, or at least wanting to get further ahead in the industry? Probably, yeah. Would I create a weekly routine where I would catch up with these people on a regular basis? Damnit...now it makes sense.

Flip side of the coin for me is the question of what I want. Do I want to be a Portland actor? I think I do. That's what I say my goal is...but when I analyze my dreams...I really want to be a Hollywood actor. I want to work with my heroes, Mitchell Hurwitz, Joss Whedon, Tina Fey, Will Ferrell, Gus Van Sant...well, that last one was Portland, but he really is a Hollywood director who lives in Portland.

If I am honest, I really want to be a huge-ass fish in a small pond. It is ridiculous. I want to be an LA guy, but I do not want to ever live there. I want fame...which is not something people find in Portland. I guess one reason I find the P-town socials droll is that it's really getting to know the people also stranded on the same island while you are looking across the ocean imaging what wonders lie beyond the horizon. How impossible a dream it is I have. I don't know how to change it. I don't control my dreams, and yet they fuel me. Am I afraid of shrinking my impossible dreams into something based more in reality...Yes. Who wouldn't be? Am I going to do it: acknowledge that I need to climb every step of the ladder? Maybe. Will I hold on to the notion that I can skip a few rungs based on luck, tenacity, ignorance and even more luck? Damn right I will. This is still my adventure.

Worth

What's it worth?

When an opportunity for work crops up on one of the acting forums in Portland, I always know the first bulk response (because everyone responds to all, so that we can all benefit from the knowledge...it gets a bit much); what's the pay?

About every other month there is a huge strand of conversation devoted to being paid as an actor or not. For me, I'm starting out and building my reel. Turns out I need to have done stuff so I can do bigger stuff. Makes sense. For this reason I do check what's going on and if something interests me, I find out more information. I've found a few neat projects through this method. The question is, why is it okay for me to be expected to do work without pay? Do people expect this from plumbers? I graduated from a two-year professional actor training program, which is the metaphorical equivalent of trade school. Do you hire an electrician who just graduated and have him rewire your house so he can build his resume?

I think the issue is that every a) thinks they can act, and b) knows about acting. Everyone sees movies or watches TV, and they all have opinions about that. Few people watch house painters and say that looks so glamorous, I want to do that too. Is that what I'm saying? Market saturation? That sounds silly. Scratch that one.

I guess it is a big issue. It means being respected or not. If I am expected to work without compensation, then I must have very little intrinsic value. However, I can't demand pay when people can get someone else so easily (even if I am more qualified or not). This is a strange career to be in. I want to talk more about this, but I have to leave so I can drive for an hour and a half to get the the set where I am filming an unpaid student project.

I like the concept and I like the part. It's small, but it will look good in my reel. It's a new concept for me, to be building the foundation of my career on the cheapest bricks with plans of increasing the worth of every layer I add.

What does selling out look like?

I'm trying to figure out if I'm a sell-out or not, or what a sell out actually is.

Some fringe artists seem to believe that any time you get money for doing something, that's selling out. I'm not that anti-anything to fall near this camp. I know another actor who gladly admits to "selling himself out" for any and every commercial over the span of fifteen years. He seems comfortable in his life. Not super famous, but been in pretty much everything as a day player. Is that selling out? Working your craft?

My issue right now is that I got cast in a commercial for a company I do not support. Does this mean I sold out? I'm an extra, so my face probably won't be seen, even if I'm not seen, it doesn't change the fact that I'm still doing it. Is it okay because I'm taking their money, or not okay because I'm taking their money? Work is work, but not all work is created equal. At this point, I'm not doing anything against my personal morals, but yesterday morning I never would have thought of working for them. Ever. Now I apparently will.

All steps to get my own stuff produced, like I am gaining points for doing all these other things, and when I get enough points, I can cash them in for my own project. In that sense, I think the means and the ends are not that different. As of now, I am content in my choice. It does not not change who I am. It does remain an interesting question; what does selling out look like?

Would you lend me a Q for my A?

I think I know my issue with blogs. I can't help but feel like I am talking into a vacuum. I'm not used to that, I am used to feedback. On stage, I get instant feedback. Even if there is no sounds of laughing or coughing, I can feel when the room is focused on the story, on the moment of interaction. I hate to admit it, but as much as I pretend to be a writer (I do enjoy being on my own), I am an actor, and I need people, I need conversation, I need interaction. What I've really felt writing this blog is that while I may have an audience in mind (albeit one person, depending on my mood), I'm really writing to no one, at least that is my feeling on this end. Doesn't that sound so whiney and camp? "Ooh, poor poor me, wasting my fingers away on this cold, plastic mat, coated with the most basic elements of language with nobody to share it with." Yeah. Lame. Ignore that bit, that's the actory side of me. Now, the equally vain but deeper part of me wants this to be a dialogue, or conversation. At least less of me talking to the Great Wall of the internet.

Man, I remember my metaphors being much more intelligent. I thought doing a lot of reading today would have helped that bit. Oh well. Here's what it is: I want questions. I want to answer questions. I do have thoughts all day long, but it gets tiring answering my own questions, especially when if I know I'm the only one listening, I won't surprise myself with the answers. I only surprise myself when I'm talking with other [real] people. Like when you have a problem that's bugging you, and the second you ask someone else about it you get the answer. That's what it's like, but I am also aware that when the pressure is on, that's how writing is. When I've truly had pressure to write, the most amazing connections and solutions come out of me, because I can't rely on time and thinking, only on the moment and how brilliantly ideas coalesce, like turning coal into diamonds with heat and pressure. Then again I sometimes get ridiculously long sentences. Short ones too. For effect.

All my ramblings aside, I want questions. Whatever they are. Bring me the heat and pressure.

Acting at first sight

Yesterday I was involved in the very first audition for Portland's biggest casting agency in their new location. This was great for me, because I wanted to christen in the new digs. I was even the first actor to show up. I helped read for the first auditioners (groups of four), and realized some things I did right by seeing what the other people were doing. For example, staying on script. They also didn't really connect with each other, which is sad. Acting is connecting with people, whether they are there or not. Having just done a film mostly in front of green screen to other actors who were not actually there, it kind of hurt a little to see these people standing right next to each other and not connecting. Though I know I've had these exact moments before, so I can't really complain and not be hypocritical.

Then it was my turn to audition with my group. I knew one of them from a play we had done a year earlier, so that was a good start. The real (mini)stress was wondering who was going to audition as my wife. I feel that it is very important when you play a couple, even in audition, you have to, you know, touch each other. At least pretend that holding hands is small potatoes compared to what you've done with each other in private settings. Luckily, she was great. We had our arms around each other and gently put our hands on each others legs and made those small actions of saying: Hey, there's love here; dig it.

This led me down a whole different meandering mental path after the audition. How strange it really is to walk into a room, meet a stranger, act as if you've lived full lives together, then part ways, maybe only to see each other at another audition months later. Is it strange? I'm not sure I have the proper perspective for this one. I'm an actor, so making things real is what I do, whether they are or not. Acting is not pretending, acting is knowing and exploring what could be and conjuring it into reality. For those five minutes, we were a couple. Then the walking to my car thinking about...you know...the stuff people think about when relationships end.

Life is just strange no matter who you are.

Burning in the New Year

Moral:

If you don't like something, burn it and hope that makes it go away.

Full meal deal:

Last night I was introduced to a new (to me) New Year's tradition. Before midnight you take a piece of paper and write down something(s) from the previous year you want to let go of for the new year. Basically, instead of taking on more stuff in the form of a resolution, you get rid of some old stuff by burning the word of it (and words have power, do not doubt that).

Super sized:

I somehow still turned this letting go of the past into more work for the future. I chose to let go of my need for approval from others. I've mostly lived my life as a good improvisor and said yes to most things. Someone suggests I try something, I do. That's why I jumped out of a plane in New Zealand (but that's a whole different kettle of walnuts). As an actor still figuring out my thing, it was strongly suggested to me that since I wear glasses (as a person), I should get more prominent frames. I assume it's also a suggestion to make bolder choices in life and art. I pondered this for quite a while and as I am getting new frames, I looked at quite a few options. I really sought out bigger frames that say "Hey, look at me, I'm glasses. Dig me, or whatever." However, I have a thing about artists (pronounced arteests): I don't like them. It's odd to be an artist (pronounced the way real people say the word) in Portland, Oregon, enjoy mostly indie music, have a closet full of the equivalent of life costumes and still despise hipsters, but here I am. There's probably a French saying that would fit well here, but again, I'm not that kind of artist.

What this all comes down to is, I did not go with the strong suggestion from my professional actor friends. I burned that option. Gladly. It turns out that I do not want to look like someone I don't like. I'd much rather look like me. That's quite enough to deal with, and one less thing I'll have to burn next year.