I lift my dream and it lifts me, like a perpetual motion engine.

I cashed a $50 check today from a radio show gig I did a few weeks ago. The fact that I was paid to perform when I’m only focusing a very small amount of my life energy on performing is very encouraging. It’s like the heartbeat of a dream. I can feel it, hold it; it’s visceral. It’s symbolic of the fact that the more of my energy I put towards my dream, the more my dream will support me. I lift my dream and it lifts me, like a perpetual motion engine. The nerves and elation I experienced during that 30 minute performance that earned me that $50 plucked a string on the instrument of my soul. Every day, I learn how to play that instrument a bit better and with practice, my passion evolves. I am still learning the notes of this instrument, putting together a few basic chords. One day I will play symphonies with my instrument. Tomorrow, my acting/improv partner and I will record the first episode of our web show. Stay tuned.

Update soon,

Michael

It brought back memories of anxiety, that would cause me to drive the route through campus, then keep right on going, out the back gates and back to the apartment, movie theater, or beach.

I haven’t posted in quite some time. That’s on me. It’s hard to believe it’s been close to a year. Yesterday, I made a pact with my friend that I will update this blog every day. Even if I have nothing to say. The good news is, today, I have something to say.

Last night at 10:00 PM, I returned from a trip to L.A. It was a spontaneous trip inspired by my friend’s bout of depression. We both needed a trip, so we took one. We were chatting in his driveway and he said, “do you want to go to L.A.?”. For me, the answer to that question is always a resounding ‘yes’. He went in the house and packed his suitcase, then we drove my BRZ to my parents’ house where I packed a bag, walked my dogs, and kissed them goodbye. At 2:30 A.M., we arrived at the Culver City Marriott, which is just a few hundred yards from the apartment I lived in sophomore year of college. Not long after we checked in to our room, I was passed out, exhausted from the day’s work and the long drive. My friend doesn’t sleep as easily, so he went back down to the front desk to raise hell about the facts that our room keys didn’t work, even after three attempts to program them, and that the room smelled like piss. He got a $50 credit for the next stay. Nice. We had been let into our room by the stooping, elderly security guard whose vernacular betrayed that she was a natural born local.

Upon waking, I was immediately filled with an energy I had not felt since my last road trip to L.A. The possibilities of the day spilled out in front of me as I opened the curtains to survey my surrounds. From the 10th floor, I could see downtown, the hills leading to my old school (LMU), and the Howard Hughes Center, where I spent many a hazy day watching movies when I should have been in class. I picked up the phone, made plans for that evening with some friends who live locally and hit the showers to wash the road off of me.

The drive to Santa Monica took us past my old apartment, along the route I used to drive to school (almost) every day. It brought back memories of anxiety, that would cause me to drive the route through campus, then keep right on going, out the back gates and back to the apartment, movie theater, or beach. It’s no small wonder that I never graduated from LMU. On the drive we also passed the old Howard Hughes airfield, which is now Playa Vista or Silicon Beach, as it’s known to the local techies. What was once an open field and a couple of old hangars, rumored to be riddled with unexploded WW2 shells, where I watched the filming of the Transformers, is now a modern office park, each building more imposing than the last. The offices are home to places like Google and Facebook, where I worked and am working, since we last spoke. It’s also a hotspot for advertising agencies. I thought about popping into the Facebook office for free snacks, but the call of the sirens of Santa Monica were too enchanting.

We checked into the Loews Santa Monica, settled into our room, which had a partial Ferris wheel view, and walked across the street for lunch to meet some friends. At that moment, sitting in that leather booth, surrounded by true friends, I felt on top of the world. It was a feeling, again, that I hadn’t felt since my last road trip to L.A. I knew unequivocally that this is where I want live. This is the life I want. Sunshine, inspiration, love, friendship, sand, and a clear head.

I won’t bore you with every detail of the trip, but know that it included a rooftop pool, a slight sunburn, bodysurfing, amazing food, a trip to the Comedy Store, the premier of ‘Once Upon a Time in Hollywood’, and a promise that by the beginning of 2020, I will call Los Angeles my home.

Update soon,

Michael

The voice in my head is self-defeating. It defeats my self. It’s my voice. I defeat myself.

My fear makes me lazy. There’s a little voice in my head that says, “don’t try”.

When my girlfriend texts me to say she’s exhausted from work and doesn’t feel like seeing a movie, the voice in my head says, “why’s she cancelling on you? Because you’re a piece of shit, that’s why.”

When a recruiter calls and asks me what my expected hourly rate is, the voice in my head says, “you’re desperate, ask them what they suggest.”

When my body tells me I need some exercise and to build some muscle mass at the gym the voice in my head says, “tomorrow”.

When I yearn to write and I feel like I have stories bursting out of my head, the voice in my head says, “if it’s not perfect, there’s no point to putting it on paper.”

When I’m out on the hockey rink and there’s a power play the voice in my head says, “get to the bench and get someone better out here.”

The voice in my head is self-defeating. It defeats my self. It’s my voice. I defeat myself.

I know I can achieve at a high level. I know I write things worth reading. I know I can put images on film worth looking at and sound on tape worth listening to. The voice in my head knows that too and it’s scared. It’s scared that I’ll follow through.

The voice in my head wants me to die alone and penniless, succumbed to its fears. When I die, we both die, me and the voice in my head, and the voice in my head wants to die.

So die then, voice in my head. I’ll be me without you. I’ll be my self.

I am not self-defeating, I am self-surrendering. Surrendering to the voice in my head. Stopping for the obstacles it throws in front of me, “what will the dogs do while you’re out trying to better yourself”, “what will people think if you try then fail”, “will your friends stay your friends when you’re successful”, “why plan anything if the plans might fall through”, “what if you write your screenplay and nobody will read it”, “what if you make a movie and people hate it”, “what if people think you’re stupid”. The voice in my head goes for the low blows. It uses the people and things I love against me, drawing up complex ideas of worst case scenarios.

The truth is, the voice in my head is wrong. It always has been. It’s the voice that told me to drop out of school, to get loaded, to break the rules, it told me I was above the law. I am not. When I follow the rules and live within the lines, things go well. I’ve seen brief glimpses of it and it felt good. The voice in my head distracts me, so I forget that.

How do I defeat this voice? Is there a way to shut it up for good?

I read Steven Pressfield’s ‘The War of Art’. He calls the voice in his head ‘resistance’. He conquers ‘resistance’ on a daily basis through action. By doing what the voice says he should not do. When ‘resistance’ chimes in, he uses it as a compass telling him there’s action that needs to be taken.

And that’s what I will do. I will keep an eye out for the voice in my head and when it chimes in, I will know I’m on the right track and I will take action.

I know that this will take practice and I know that this will take time and I know that I will follow through on this because I am using this blog to hold myself accountable.

Update soon,

Michael

I can’t tell you what year I started first grade, but I know it was the year ‘Land Before Time II: The Great Valley Adventure’ came out.

My name is Michael Robert Brown and as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a filmmaker. I have a tape of myself, from when I was three years old, reciting the opening monologue from Disney’s ‘Beauty and the Beast’. My childhood memories are all movie-centric. I can’t tell you what year I started first grade, but I know it was the year ‘Land Before Time II: The Great Valley Adventure’ came out.

I am starting this blog because it is time to follow my dream. I’m now 30 years old & 3 years sober and realize that the only way to reach my dream is to start. This blog is a tool for keeping myself accountable.

This is my starting point:

• I live at my folks’ house in Los Gatos, CA
• I was laid off from a contract job at Facebook last Friday
• I am enrolled in a local acting class, First Take
• I have a small collection of cameras including a DSLR, GoPro, HandiCam and my iPhone
• I have a movie review podcast that gets about 300 downloads per week, ‘Monday Movie Munchie Madness’
• I have a MasterClass subscription and am currently taking Aaron Sorkin’s screenwriting class
• I have a great group of friends that are also passionate about entertainment
• I’ve got a little money saved up, a blue coupe and a head full of ideas

The first step I’ve taken is starting this blog, which will also have a podcast component.

Thanks for joining me on this journey from zero to filmmaker!

Update soon,

Michael