My First Love

I did a reading of Aurelio Locsin's play "Family Affair." It was really fun studying a character again and doing ensemble work on stage. I never thought going to "rehearsal" would be such joy again.

In the audience was someone who was more familiar with my literary life. He'd seen me host at Skylight, and he told me that he knew I did other things...but not acting! I told him that theatre was my first love. It's still a love.

However, I started to write because my first love was always hard to come by. She was like the popular girl you wanted to spend time with in high school, but she would only give you the time of day at her whim.

I probably wouldn't have written if the acting game wasn't so hard. Now, that I've written and consider myself a writer, could I return to my first love? And not feel slighted if she chooses not to spend time with me? Would I find joy just in the pursuit of her?

Returning to My First Love

Last weekend, I participated in the West Hollywood Bookfair. I'd participated before and always have a great time. This year was significant for me. I usually go as an author, reading something from a book or moderating a panel. This year I went as a "performer," a title I hadn't claimed in a really long time. I performed a monologue from my first show "The Rice Room: Scenes from a Bar."

Acting was my first love. I began pursuing it professionally when I was a teenager, getting my first agent at sixteen. I went to college majoring in Theatre. I thought I'd be doing it for the rest of my life. Then I discovered writing, a blind date that turned into a full on love affair. I found myself juggling two lovers.

About five years ago, around the time my father died, I sort of abandoned my first love. I felt the need to be alone, something writing allowed. I experienced a kind of transition when dad left, I truly felt like my childhood had passed away. My first love was a part of that. I'd heard that a son doesn't truly become a man until his father dies. I understood that.

Earlier this year, I began thinking about my old lover. In rekindling an old relationship, I talked about it with friends who encouraged me to go about it. I called up my agent, a very patient man, and asked him if he'd be willing to represent me again. He was kind enough to say, yes. I made sure my union cards were all in order and started auditioning again.

The fine theatre artist Michael Kearns asked me to be a part of his Queer Renegades at the Weho Bookfest. I took it as a positive sign. I went about memorizing lines again and rehearsing. It felt strange yet familiar.

I think that's why I decided to remove the "Literary" from my posts this year. My creative life will encompass more from now on.

Ironically, I started a short story about an actor. I do think I have a Hollywood book in me. If my return to acting will facilitate more stories, what a wonderful result that will be.

For a tour of the Weho Bookfair, click Here. Thanks to Karen Ocamb for sharing this link.