Observations, The future, An Interesting Life

A week has gone by since I got to LA, and I’m still trying to figure out how exactly I got here. Of course, I do know how I got here. The decision to come was made after many fickle moments, much convincing, and prayer. I never really knew what to expect, no matter how much I tried to reduce my uncertainty by finding out about the apartments and the school. Those times of conversing with Andrew, with friends, and the mental preparation of saying goodbye all seem far away to me, like a dream. I know it happened, but coming here was like stepping into another world. New habitat. New faces. New streets (fast ones). New stores. New culture. Palm trees and smog. A world where my own face is the only familiar one. It would be more sensible if, being here, and all the things I do every day and the people I meet, seemed more like a dream; but it’s very real, and all the things up until now are the distant memory. It has only been a week.
Most of the students have intentions of living here after graduation so they can strive to “make it.” I believe in was on a Monday in our Internship class that we heard some discouraging statistics of how many people actually are successful in the mainstream film business. Then there was a lot of talk about ministering in LA, and how for most people, it is life or death, this success they speak of; but we Christians have the freedom of not having control, of letting God take it. The liberation for us is supposedly in letting go and being content with wherever the chips fall. This made sense. Okay.
We learned how to write a story. Do or die situations. Having the character face a tough choice. We are all writing ten minute plays. Four of them will be selected to be filmed. I believe I’ve failed at this task. My character is not facing a tough situation. The only part of this formula I followed was “what is the worst thing that could happen?” and having the character change. I won’t spend much time blogging about this, but I’m constantly struggling with conventional methods of story-telling. I’m constantly wondering if the method is truthful, and if I can tell a story that is both entertaining and truthful. I watched my roommates glance back and forth from their how-to notes to their scripts. Granted, not all of them are writers, but I felt uneasy just seeing them do it. I cannot say I’m happy with my own script either. One, because it is not at all conventional, two, I’m disappointed in myself for not choosing a new idea. Enough about that.
It seemed that everywhere I turned this past week, students and professors were talking about making a living in Los Angeles. In a small group, we were asked to share what our dream jobs would be if we had absolutely no obstacles. I said, “To write screenplays, work closely with the director if not be the director, and to have a family.” Rebecca, the professor and the leader of our particular group, said, “We have a tough time keeping women out here. I think I’ll get all the women together for lunch and discuss how women live in the film business.” My first thought to this was, “You’re not keeping me!!! I’m going to do what I want!” But then I realized that I am allowed to make choices, and I will make these choices based on what I believe I’m supposed to be doing, and that this is only the first week, and that I’m being a bit pessimistic.
This really is a city of dreams. How could it not be with places named Miracle Mile and Sunset Boulevard. There are several people we’ve met at the school who seem to ‘know’ people. I walked the Walk of Fame. People dress as celebrities there and charge people to take pictures with them. That’s how they make money. I know all of this is very vague and I wish there was more time in the world so I could record all things that I see and think. Rebecca talked about the success of her musician husband, about the famous people he knows and the places they’ve been. It’s hard to remember the specifics at the moment but I remember she sat back in her chair thoughtfully and said, “it’s been an interesting life.” I wonder what I’m going to say once I’ve settled down. I would certainly rather live an interesting life as opposed to a tiring life.
I’m wondering how the rest of these months are going to be if I’m homesick (and Malone-sick, a phrase I heard out here) after these few short days. I suppose we’ll wait and see. Perhaps this growing pain will pass in quicker time than I’m expecting. Good night, Los Angeles.