LA and Beyond

This is crazy and belated, but I did it. I done did it. 

The LA show went down almost two months ago. It feels so surreal that it's over now. Months, weeks, or even days before the show, I was freaking out. How many people will come? What if people don't come? What if I forget the story? The day before the show, I wrote out thank you notes to folks.. up to the point my fingers started cramping. I was so anxious. I pooped so much before the show (ok, tmi).. I also reminded myself to relax the moment I stepped out on stage and that everything will be okay.

Everything was okay. There was a sizable crowd, and everyone was so supportive. I worried that jokes wouldn't land on the LA crowd, but it did (told myself not to worry about if things are "supposed to be" funny--just tell the damn story). In short, I am so relieved.

In October 2016, that little thought of bringing the show to Los Angeles was just a thought--a dream if you may. Then I decided to pursue that thought and see if it can become a reality. It costs a lot to get the theatre, but I was like fuck it! Life is too short to not do the things we wanna do, and so, I booked the space. The most difficult part is really spreading the word, and I'm so grateful CAPE (Coalition of Asian Pacifics for Entertainment), Kollaboration LA, and Project by Project LA supported the show by telling their networks about it. Everyone was so so supportive, and it made the whole LA show what it was--it felt like the whole entire community had my back.

Special thanks to Grace for letting me crash and helping me to get set pieces and loading, Karin for taking beautiful black and white photos, and Cindy, Amy, and Malina for capturing color photos. Sabrina for coming all the way from Oakland, and all the people who came out to the show. It meant the world to share the story with you. 

And now, I'm back to NYC. Back to reality. And everything is back to normal: classes (Improv 301! And Film & TV at The Barrow Group), hustle for AAIFF, work at Nom Wah, and writing--been outlining two feature films--and experiencing writer's block, ha! I'm getting over this hump where I have to sit down and write everything that's been on my mind with these two stories. I know the ending to both, it's just the journey (emotional) in between that is hard to write. I'll figure it out soon enough. Setting a deadline for the end of this month. Yes, always have deadlines. Otherwise, a dream is just a dream. Do.

I've also been reading Taraji P. Henson's memoir. I saw a video of her circulating on Facebook talking, where she gave a speech on what it means to ignore naysayers and keep on with keeping on. It inspired me so much that I picked up her book. This morning, I balled my eyes out when she talked about where she's from, her family, and her love life. I related so much to everything and got so emotional. She has this fire and sass, and unapologetic energy about her that no one can take away. She's a strong ass woman, and I'm working now to get as tough as her.

On my way home, I read the part where she talked about moving to Hollywood with no money and had to beg just to find a place to live. That shit is too real and inspiring. I have dreams of moving to Los Angeles (I told the head chef at Nom Wah last week and shit came out of my mouth), but I need some seed money and some brush-up on driving lessons. It'd probably take me two years to save up enough just to get a used car and rent for a few months. I never thought I would've said this, because let's be real, I don't even like LA that much. But like Taraji's father said, "why are you just living? Why aren't you going to LA where all the jobs are?" Her father's words is exactly what I don't wanna hear but need to hear.

Part of me wanna take it slow--one step at a time. But Taraji did it with no real acting credits, no agent in LA, no car, and no place to live, AND with a baby on her hip. If she can do it, I believe I can. I gotta stop making excuses. I have to be more daring.

I'm going through the mo right now, a rough patch if you will, but I promise I will look back one day and say I gave it my all. You have to, because otherwise, why start? 

Crazy spilling this out man. Time for beeeeed. Good night world.

Tomorrow is a new day. And.. the hustle continues! 

The City of Angels - Life Lesson: Nostalgia

For almost 5 years, i always wondered: when will i be able to visit LA?  After taking many risks this past year, I finally decided to book a trip to the city of angels. It will be my sixth time in California--I have been to San Francisco three times, San Diego & Santa Barbara once--but it'd be my first time in lala land!  I began to research different places to visit, or people I'd like to see/meet, especially those who have been influential to the Asian American community, for CineVue. In the end, I had the pleasure to speak with Abe & Anderson at Visual Communications, UCLA Professor Emeritus Robert Nakamura, and Giant Robot founder/owner Eric Nakamura. Though most of the interviews were for work, it didn't feel like i was working. It felt more like i was just speaking with friends who are passionate about the same things i do: APA identity formation, cinema, and the arts. We spoke about a lot of things, but some topics that stuck out to me was: how things have been done in the past, how technolgy changes the dynamics of storytelling, and how only true dedication and motivation can help you succeed--even if you have very little money.

In one instance, I asked the interviewee about the past and future, and he said he doesn't want to think about what was, or how it would be in the future; he just wants to focus on the present and do the best he can now. He also mentioned it is not good to be nostalgic because we have to move on forward and do things even better than what we have done in the past.  I consider this piece of advice a life lesson.

This life lesson still keeps me thinking because i am pretty nostalgic when it comes to a lot of things--especially when it comes to the APA community.  I always  geek out and go googoogaga over archival materials at work (stuff that happened almost 40 years ago!) and I think about what it was like back then.  I always compare the good ol' times and forget to look at what we have or can do now to make it as good as it was years ago.  From listening to those who have been working in the community for a long time, and how they work to accomplish smaller goals now instead of looking back, it really inspires me to do the same.

I need to start changing my mindset and focus more on the present & live in the moment.  I need to look in the past only for a point of reference, and not grow nostalgic over everything. Afterall, it's about pushing boundaries and forging forward.  So to nostalgia, so long!

My heart is in the arts.

I remember last year around this time, I had a mental breakdown because I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with my life.  Maybe I was so anxious to know because in college, everything was so structured with a given deadline, that I, for one, thought there was a deadline to this thing called life.  So I went around and asked for advice in areas that strikes my interest.  It started with all professions deemed worthy, ranging from lawyers, to business folks, to professors/phd students from well known companies and institutions. I always ask about their journey:  how they got where they are today, if it was their passion, and if they were happy.  Most of the time, people tell me they are happy with their profession, but it took a long time to get there. One person, in particular, asked me what field i am interested in.  I said, "I don't know. A lawyer? A politician? I really want to work for the community."

Looking back now, it is a quite funny how i associate community work with being a lawyer or politician. Is that a default answer for all aspiring organizers? When I said, "I don't know," I actually did know what I wanted to do, but was always afraid to say or admit it. What if others laugh at my dreams? My dream is always to work for the community, and become an actor and writer. I rarely tell anyone though because what if I fail?  I struggled from within tremendously while working for Congresswoman Velazquez with this question; but after being surrounded with older co-workers and listening to stories of constituents' lives, I began to realize life is too short to live up to someone else's expectations.  And so, I worked up the courage to admit to myself that being an organizer and artist is what I want to do for the rest of my life.

At this point, when I compare myself now to who I was one year ago, I see a huge gap. I see myself grow in ways I never imagined. I am still shocked at how I made these decisions without worrying about consequences.  I am not making any kind of big bucks or rocking brand names, but I am at a really happy place right.  I cannot wait to see what is in store for the next year, and many more to come.  And I hope to use this blog as a way to document the journey along the way.