The Door Of My Next Life

EDIT: This is the first entry of the blog in 2006. About a year later, I stopped posting and moved to San Francisco for work. In August 2010, I started blogging again.

It's just under 10 feet wide and 10 feet high. Behind it is everything my wife and I own. Two weeks ago, it was behind a very different door, a door that was in New York.

But we've decided to leave behind the life that was behind that New York door.

Why? Because after years of the actor and writer life in the Big Apple (14 for her, 5 for me), it's time to find out what life is like elsewhere, namely, LA.

Is it the right thing to do? Was Joan Didion right when she said New York is only for the rich and young? We only know that staying in the city that is home to the old world of ideas was the wrong thing to continue doing for us.

Not that we won't miss it. We will. We leave behind many friends. And Bodegas that are open all night. And a subway system that gets you everywhere for $2. And tall buildings that look great when the sun goes down and you think, maybe I could live at the top of one of them some day.

But the theatre life there didn't pay for us. Productions were scarce. Audience's scarcer. And we don't want to be living in a small apartment that costs too much not doing what we love - telling stories with words and action.

So, we're off.

And this door guarding all our stuff is in Ashland, Oregon where I'm hanging out for a few weeks while my wife finishes her contract doing THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST.

And then we're onto the other American city of dreams. And plastic surgery. And traffic.

Or something like that.