I woke up with tears in my eyes and feeling very emotional on this chilly early morning. I've always been a person of intense internal conflict and, well, I'm really feeling it now.
It's quiet here in my tiny house at 8am. My longtime friend––and packing helper––Rick is showering. I can hear the distant traffic on the 60 freeway. And I know I won't be sitting at this desk anymore––not ever in this way and in this space in time––until it's come apart and is reassembled in a very different place. The same is true of my life in almost ever way I can think of. Except for one thing. After 21 years, I'm finally going back home.
It's been a very, very long journey since I arrived in 1995. Many horrible things have happened. But many great things, also. I was 90% a musician back then, although always a writer in one way or another. But my music was shot out from under me and I was sent stumbling down a path I had not expected––at least not expected so suddenly. I met many people I never would have crossed paths with had I not come to L.A. Many people that made L.A. bearable. Many good people that influenced me and my art––because I was forced out of music and into filmmaking, and deeper into writing: Rodney Montague, Christopher Webster, John Franklin, David White, Tony Simmons, Lora Cunningham, Gabriel Sigal, Lee Bailes, Matthew Sanderson, Judith Herdman, Joseph Molgaard, Mary Monzon, Starrla Doods, Terry West, Vitina Molgaard, Zachary Walters, Danilo Montejo, Lily Red (Mashkova), and so many others I can't list them all––so many who became such amazing contributors to my art and my life, in so many ways, here in Hollywood.
I love all of you. And I've even come to love L.A. in some strange way. There were two places I always said I never wanted to live, New York City and Los Angeles––especially Los Angeles. But here I landed just the same. It battered me. It tore me apart. It changed me. It made me who I am today. Definitely a bit broken and certainly scarred, but a far superior artist in music, words, film, and thinking––maybe a much greater danger in that latter department (lol). I hope I can return to Dallas and live up to all of the hell and high water I've been through. It's time for me to really shine in this world. I'm not arrogant, but I am damn good at the things I do––music, writing, and film. And the world needs to start paying some attention.
Goodbye L.A.––you goddamn merciless bitch––I take you away as a new part of me. And I take all of those I met here with me too (and for that I'm grateful). I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will be a new era––one I well earned––and it will be my time to make all I've learned, and all those I've met, become undying stars in my new night sky, that will shine light on me and my art forever.
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