I think I'm going to move to Los Angeles, in a few months. That was me talking to myself a few weeks ago, or heck, a few months ago, when aaiff ended. I thought it was time for a change, and so, I booked a trip out to LA with my friend Shirley, with no work obligations or anything, meaning I can do whatever I want, with whomever I want. With no obligations. Basically a trip for me to see if I can fall in love with LA. The short answer is yes, but only for a short vacation. Otherwise, NYC, you still got me!
I say only for vacation because I don't know if I can really leave everything behind in NYC. My family, my friends (well heck, a handful of 'em are from California), my jobsss, and just the place I grew up in for my entire life. That's scary. Real fuckin scary. But I thought leaving this world behind will allow me to start anew, somewhere fresh, and grow in ways I've never done before. Like finally be independent. And be free.
But I realized it ain't easy. You have to have a car, you have to put food on the table, you have to figure out where to study, who your friends are, and what kind of person you'll become. It never hit me this hard until this time, and I freaked out (in my mind). Then, i sat down and asked myself: why do I have to move out here? What exactly am I trying to chase? Do I wanna be Hollywood?
The short answer is no. I don't want to be in Hollywood, or be Hollywood. Or at least that attitude, that mindset, cuz it's all about the red carpet, what you're wearing, did you gain or lose weight, and who you know, and all that crap-shit. I don't want to be a part of any of that. Sure, people inspire me in Hollywood, but do I want to live in that kind of bubble? Nope. I would only wanna be there if work takes me there. Otherwise, no thank you.
The second day after coming back to NYC, I had the opportunity to work on a short film with someone I love and admire: MC Jin, also the director for my solo show. I got to produce and I got to act alongside a team of amazing ppl. It felt amazing. It was just a bunch of passionate people working together for 16 hours a day, to tell the stories we wanna tell. It was and felt like a collaborative effort. It was the fambam, the creative community I've been looking for, for the past four years. The people on set made me feel like I can keep making things with them forever. (If you guys are reading this, know that i wanna make shit with you guys forever. Good shit, only good shit, ok?)
After the shoot, I had a conversation with my friend while we were heading home, and he told me about a concept called tunnel vision. It's where you are so focused, dare i say almost blinded, by what you really want in life, and you can only see that vision. Meaning you will do whatever it takes within that vision and that vision only.
In the past, I've had a sense of guilt, where I get sidetracked and lose sight of my tunnel vision. But now, at the age of 27, I feel like I finally have that tunnel vision, and anything else that distracts me along the way will get immediately disregarded/eliminated. I guess if this conversation taught me anything--it's also to be clear and honest to yourself what it is you're after and never stop until you get there.
I guess for me: my tunnel vision is to be successful, and by definition, it is to get my mom a house, with heat and hot water, and food on the table every night. I want to be successful enough so that she can be proud of me. I also want to get a place for myself and my brother--somewhere quiet, but still in NYC. I want to act in films, television shows, and theatre, and continue writing stories about the Asian American experience. These are the dreams I have.
I hope my tunnel vision can lead me down this path. Otherwise, I'd rather be blind.