Taking My Own Advice

I've long said that there is no such thing as writer's block. That it's just a block you put on your own creative flow when you're just being stubborn. You're unwilling to write something that isn't good, so you write nothing at all. But the good is buried under a layer or two of bad and only way through is to just write it out.

Writing is rewriting as they say. And blogging isn't writing, as many bloggers on the interwebs are all too happy to prove. So I'm gonna ride this impulse to write right on through this wall I have in my mind (or is it in my fingers?). I apologize in advance to anyone that happens to stumble upon this blog. Maybe I should start making that my standard sign off actually...

I've been in a real funk lately. I've been eating poorly, not exercising, watching a lot of TV (even by my standard) and doing little else. I've gained back a bunch of the weight I lost in the fall. Now I could blame it on my emotional state, or my social life. I could blame it on my never ending search for gainful employ. The truth is, I don't really know what it is. But I know when it started and that's my best clue to all of this. It's been a slow progression into melancholy since January. This malaise started there. Time for some honesty I guess.

I had a friendship with a girl in the fall that slowly turned into more, at least on my end. But I could not allow myself to take the next step because this girl is not a Christian. As my friend Graham described it, "It's the only thing that's a problem and it's the most important thing."

I couldn't even allow myself to find out if she felt the same way at that point (in hindsight now, I suspect she very well may have), because I was pretty infatuated. My emotions were torn enough already, I couldn't risk finding out a relationship was actually possible. I'm fairly certain I wouldn't have been able to resist.

It all would have been great if I could have asked her out, gotten shot down and moved on. But I had reached the point where I no longer wanted to ask her out because I couldn't risk her saying yes. So after agonizing over this for much longer than I should have, I did the only sensible thing I had left at my disposal; I ran away. (and yes, I know sensible may be generous; I've had a lot more time to think about this than you have).

One day I just stopped contacting her. I stopped going to events or places I might run into her. I had made my decision and I needed to stay firm, but I could not stand to be around her in the state I was in. It was too painful and I feared my twitterpation would betray me.

The unfortunate side effect of this was that I simultaneously cut out an entire social circle that we shared. And for the better part of the last four months, I have only seen a handful of those friends, a handful of times. These were people that I was mostly seeing on a near weekly basis for the prior six months or so.

So I cut that hole out of my life and I started to sink. Whether that was the cause or just a contributing factor or even the last straw on a paraplegic camel, they are most definitely related. Now I don't know if this will make any difference or not as far as my somber demeanor of late, but I felt like I've been internalizing this for too long and I'm striving to be more vulnerable on this blog. So there you go. If you're the praying sort, I could use some prayer for this lack of motivation. I need to get some kind of motor running again.

Insignificant Ramblings

Every once in a while, I find my sleeping schedule sliding, seemingly of its own accord. For instance, back in the fall there was a period where I physically could not sleep past nine a.m., no matter when I went to sleep. At the moment, I'm in a restless nights period where I lay in bed for hours before I can fall asleep. I think perhaps my sleep time has shifted later into the night without consulting me. Terribly inconsiderate of it really. But hey, at least I don't have anything going on right now. And who decides what the normal time to sleep is anyways? Obviously society runs on an average of sorts, but few and far between is the soul that is average, seemingly defying the term itself.

But what better way to stay up late than to pour out my thoughts onto a page, digital though it may be? I've been neglecting this exercise (and all exercise if I'm honest) these past months and I have a growing yearning in my spirit over it. When I don't write I begin to feel that I have nothing relevant to say. That my writing is invalid. That it doesn't matter. I'll never be as good as ____, so what's the point? I might as well pack up and go home. Find in a cabin in the heart of the Minnesota wilderness. Live off the land. Fish, hunt, plant, grow.

Then what? I'd want to write about it. I'd have to. Like so many great American novelists before me, I'd write about a man that escaped from the rigors of a world that's technologically advanced, yet socially and emotionally stunted. Broken even. We slowly lose our interaction to the irresistible draw of interconnectivity.

And so I'd write. I'd reminisce of a time I never knew. A bygone era of Twain, or Fitzgerald. Always to the past, always to the wilderness. It's the American ideal. The rugged cowboy. The stubborn pilgrim. The durable farmer. This is the stock we come from. We were never meant for this world of reality stars and celebrity marriages.

We melt away our brains on the trivial while the world burns around us. Untold millions suffer in silence while the western world debates the celebrity of the minute's style choices. #Dehumanized

But I will stand and fight. Turn the machines against themselves. That's American too. Maybe I won't start a ranch but there's still work to be done here. My fingers hold the key.

Writing is an inherently arrogant tool. The writer says "My thoughts are worth sharing! Everyone should know the things that come from my mind." And perhaps they are right. If you disagree and write your own thoughts, are you not guilty of the same thing? Any exchange of ideas carries this problem of course, but words are never more permanent than when put onto a page. Words in the air are just ripples in the air. They vanish, often without having touched an ear to perceive them. But written words can endure the centuries; persist unaltered through the millenia. Who's to say who will read these words, these idle thoughts of mine, in the distant future, unimagined in my own time?

But my thoughts have run their course for now and I will stop the flow here. This is raw, unfettered writing. No structure to constrain and no story to tell. These are just the thoughts that float down the river of my mind at three a.m. on a insignificant Friday morning...

Learning to Trust

Don't you worry, don't you worry Drewb. This Lukey's got a blog for you.

Wow, things can turn on a body fast. Remember that job I had lined up for two months of work? Well it's been 2 weeks since I worked for them and they haven't got me scheduled for next week either. In short, I have worked two days for them with no sign of when the third day will be. Or if it will come at all.

But wait, there's more. I got a stop sign ticket driving home from work on the second day so now I need to appear in court, because apparently that's how California does things for some reason. So my "bail" for the ticket is $238. Which is more than I made in those two days. So that's a negative job to add to the ole resume.

And on top of all that, I found out on Thursday that I am being kicked out of my apartment May 31st. Without cause. The roommate that rents the other room has decided that he no longer wants to have two tenants in our bedroom. So naturally, rather than talk to us about it and ask if either of us would be willing to pick up the whole tab for the room so only one of us had to move out, he went and found a separate person and is kicking us both out. No warning, no discussion. Despite what he claims, it clearly is at least a little personal, or he wouldn't have gone behind our backs about it. He just doesn't want either of us as roommates anymore.

And you know what? God is good. I feel great and I'm trusting all of this in God's capable (insulting understatement?) hands. I can't tell you how happy I am with how I'm handling all of this news right now. Just a few months ago (or earlier this week?) this would have sent me into a tailspin of laying on the floor and wishing for my mommy.

But I am growing. All of this struggle and trial over the last three and a half plus years has not been for nothing and I'm learning to trust God more fully. And already these storms seem to be subsiding somewhat.

While work has been nonexistent with these punks at A.U.D.C., I've continued to get sporadic work and referrals from my friend Mark. And while this ticket was wildly frustrating, and bordering on unfair (they set up a trap in a dark park and hid on a freeway entrance ramp with their lights off), the bail was not as high as I initially feared and there is hope of getting it reduced for financial hardship. And while I'm gonna miss this apartment and will loathe having to move out while I'm supposed to be getting ready to fly home at the end of May, God has always been miraculously faithful in providing me with shelter. He led me to this apartment and he will lead me to wherever my next residence will be. I can take comfort in that while I begin my search.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33

Is this thing on?

This is for all the lonely Andrews
thinking my blog has past him by
don't give up until you
see that my blog is up
you never know until you look

Not everyone has a great gift for rhyme, ok. We can't all be Fezzik.

This will be an abbreviated entry just to get something up and break out of my slump. For those that use this blog as mostly a news service for all things Luke, this post is for you.

Things have really picked up around here lately. I've been getting called in for lots of Production Assistant work lately, thanks in no small part to my friend Mark McCune. It's been a massive relief to actually make some progress with this work thing and I am extremely grateful to Mark, and more to God for the blessing of work.

Otherwise not a lot of news. Just keep living and loving life. Growing in my faith. Super Apartment Bros. finale is coming along, but very slowly still. I've secretly set July 16th as the deadline for finishing it/flying to Eric and smacking him. But seriously, one year seems like a solid last resort deadline. Hopefully it's out a long time before that.

Anywho. That's all for now. Gonna go bowl and enjoy the lack of snow outside my apartment. Hopefully I'll have time for a more thoughtful post later today or tomorrow.

The Past Today

There's something I find inherently fascinating about movies based on old films/novels that were originally just contemporary stories and have now aged into period pieces. Especially when the new film becomes an amalgamation of two separate time periods and sensibilities. It ends up serving as a window into, not only our time, but also gives future generations a glimpse of our psyche; how we viewed another time period.

One of the films I am most excited for in 2013 is Baz Luhrmann's "The Great Gatsby". Widely considered to be F. Scott Fitzgerald's greatest novel, and one of the greatest American Novels ever written, "The Great Gatsby" was written and set in 1922, at the height of the Roaring Twenties. In many ways, the time wasn't that different from the indulgent age we live in now, which makes the timing of this adaptation so interesting.

Of course, the book was made into a film back in 1974 starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow, but the film flopped with critics as it lacked excitement and depth. In fact, this was the third adaptation of the novel at the time following a silent film outing in 1926 and another adaptation in 1949 after the 1926 version negatives were lost (it no longer exists anywhere). There was also a made for TV adaptation in 2000 that aired on the A&E cable network. But none of the adaptations have gone down as classic (or even good) films in their own right. And perhaps this one will finally get it right.

Let me qualify this post by stating that I have never actually read the book. For whatever reason, it was never required reading for me in high school (though how I got stuck reading "The Grass Dancer" instead of this classic, I'll never know, nor will I forgive that curriculum decision anytime soon). Now with the film on the horizon, and with Baz Luhrmann (Moulin Rouge, Romeo+Juliet) bringing his usual breed of panache to the story, I've decided to wait and read it after the film. Criticize me all you want book worms but I hate watching a movie when I know the story or how it ends before I go in. I'll get to the book eventually, the film is only a few more months away.

But anyways, back to the original idea behind this post. The trailer for "The Great Gatsby" is what got me inspired to write this post. The trailer shows a New York that has a decidedly 21st Century aesthetic to it. Lots of lights, flashy costuming and decor. 1922 was quite a time period for such things and it's little wonder that the 1974 version still managed to win the Oscar that year for costume design. But what really sets the tone in this trailer is the music. Luhrmann's history of using modern songs in period pieces is well-documented, but this seems even more appropriate (One thing I want to add, since he is often criticized for his choices in music, is that even Shakespeare was known to incorporate modern popular music into his plays to broaden their appeal).

The trailer opens with the Jay-Z/Kanye West anthem "No Church in the Wild". With the beats and R&B feel that is distinctly 21st century, this immediately draws the mind to connect today with 1922. The similarities are even laid out in the opening minute of the trailer, in case you somehow couldn't make that connection yourself. The party being shown looks like something you might see in Hollywood today (granted if there was a twenties theme to the party). Flash, spectacle and booze with an undercurrent of sensuality. Then the hauntingly beautiful U2 song "Love is Blindness" (though this version is performed by Jack White of The White Stripes) rolls in after the introduction of the love interest. The song closes it out and really gives away more about the story than any of the images in the trailer. Leo's performance looks like it's at his usual high standard.

Any truly great piece of art will always be interpreted differently by different audiences. There are timeless messages buried within them that even the artist may have missed. Fitzgerald's story is such a work of art and I am excited to see what Baz decides to focus on in his adaptation.

In closing, seeing things like this also makes me wonder what books or movies being made today will be made into period piece films in the next 50-70 years. Or will we be too busy remaking The Great Gatsby again?

Fear of Vulnerability

I want you to see me how I wish I was, not how I really am. Because who I am is scared and weak and not in control. He stumbles on his words and is wrong a lot and makes mistakes all the time. And revealing that makes me feel vulnerable. But if you don't get to know that person, your relationship isn't with me at all.


Humans are like snails. We're soft and weak and vulnerable (and even a little gross?) on the inside. When something scares us, we hide behind our shell, the image people have of us. And we feel safer that way because the shell is stronger and polished. It's prettier to look at. We may even have several different shells for different occasions. But that's not us. It's not real. And those relationships leave us unfulfilled because they aren't real.

We all want to believe the image we project. Maybe if we play pretend and believe it hard enough, we'll magically change into what we want to be. Or perhaps more accurately, if we can get others to believe it. Perhaps that's why we put so much value on the perspective of others. We're seeking that validation. But on a more devious level, we want to know if the illusion is working.

But when we're alone, the shell doesn't exist. We can try to put it up, but it needs an audience to materialize. We can't fool ourselves. That's why so many people are afraid to be alone. They feel naked and exposed because they can't fool themselves anymore.

Until we learn to overcome this fear of being vulnerable, we can never have a real relationship with anyone. It's scary, but it's worth the risk. Because the alternative is feeling alone for the rest of your life.

p.s. Don't get me wrong. Shells/images of us can be very useful in social settings and professional relationships. But for intimate relationships like friendships and romantic connections, this approach will only hamstring you.

A Failtacular Adventure

So tonight was an eventful night where nothing happened. I know, it sounds confusing. And it was. But it will make sense in a minute.

My dad is coming to visit me this month. The plan was for me to get a ride down to the airport and meet him there so we could ride back to my place together and he wouldn't have to face the horrors of LA rush hour traffic alone. Plus, I don't get a ton of visitors out here so maximizing my time with my father was a nice incentive too.

I managed to bum a ride off my friend Zech who works in Venice and rode down with him when he went to work at 3pm. We hit good traffic and made it to Venice by about 3:50. And my dad wasn't getting in until 7-7:30. So I went to a coffee shop for a while to see if another friend of mine was working. He was not. Then I had a decision to make. My dad wasn't getting in for 3 hours and I was 6 miles away from the airport. I could sit there and watch the Avengers and still have a couple hours to kill when it was all said and done. Or, I could walk to the airport and meet my dad at the gate.

I went with the latter because, why the hell not? I'm young. I have the time and good health to make such a trek. I won't always have either of those things. And a day will come when I'd be willing to walk 1,000 miles to see my father and won't be able to, so I'm living for the now. Besides, I had just completed a 9+ mile hike up and down a 3,000 foot elevation change a few weeks ago. This would be a cakewalk.

Off I went, walking through Venice Beach and Marina Del Rey, the sun setting behind me. I walked in silence, I commented on my surroundings. I talked to God. I sang and whistled. I watched the final 20 minutes of "Star Wars: A New Hope" in my head, complete with a full John Williams score, which I whistled and hummed (yes, apparently I can do that now). And before I knew it... I was half way there.


Now, it's important for the rest of the story to note that my phone was running dangerously low at this point. I had, in fact, turned it off for the entire second half of my journey as the battery had dropped below 10%. Keep this in mind.

The walk was quite an experience. It felt good since I've been struggling with a stuffy nose all week. Being able to exercise with no symptoms was a nice reprieve. It was a beautiful evening, as most are in Southern California. The big regret I have was not having a travel companion on this trek. Because memories are always better shared. But alas.

I finally arrived at the airport right on schedule. LAX is really not designed for pedestrians. That place is so huge. And Delta is all the way over at Terminal 5. I guess that's still better than if it had been all the way at the end, but my hips weren't too into being grateful for small mercies at that point. Besides, my plan hinged on me actually running into my dad, since my phone had only a few precious moments of talk time left, so timing was important.

I found the terminal where the plane was set to arrive and I settled in to wait. And wait. And wait some more. I took out my phone and turned it back on. No messages. I called my dad. No answer. What was going on? I didn't have much time to find out, my battery was getting lower by the second.

I called my mom to make sure I didn't have the wrong airline. "Hey, Dad's flying on Delta right?", I said. "Yea, I think so," she replied, somewhat incredulously. "Ok good, because I've been waiting here for like 45 minutes and he still hasn't come down--," I shot back before she interrupted. "Oh no! He's coming next Thursday! Did you think he was coming today?", she asked, and continued before I could respond, "He thought you were coming today!" She's talking to him. He's right next to her. Well done Luke.
 
It's rather disappointing to expect your father to be visiting you for the next several days and then find out that he's not coming. I mean, at least he's coming next week, but it's still a bit of a letdown for me. Through a series of miscommunications, and probably a small amount of wishful thinking on my part, I had indeed managed to convince myself that my dad was coming a week before he actually was. Just one of those many small mistakes one makes in one's lifetime. But this one is gonna stick with me for a while.

I quickly wrapped up the conversation, with just about 1% battery life, then removed the battery to preserve that percentage point as much as possible. I was gonna need that last drop of juice before this night was over. And my night was far from over. I was on my own now.

Some of you more forward (or backward?) thinking people may have recalled that I had been planning to return to my home in Burbank (a mere 30 miles away) via by dad's rental car. Stranded and alone, many miles from home, I had to move on to Plan B. I made for the Metro station.

Now this part of the journey was, thankfully, fairly uneventful. I mean, I was quite tired from my hike and had not been planning to walk much more the rest of the night. But riding on the Metro isn't terribly news worthy for most people, and is downright commonplace for millions. For me, this was the farthest distance I had ever had to cover on public transit, by a fair margin, so it was somewhat noteworthy in that regard.

From the Green line, to the Blue line to the Red line, I made the switches and sat in silence. The approximately hour and a half long ride gave me lots of time to reflect and think about things. Unfortunately, I had already used up a lot of my thoughts on the long walk preceding this, so I wasn't left with much. I did spend a fair amount of time thinking about what I would do when I arrived at my destination though.

As you may recall from just a few paragraphs ago, my phone was on it's last leg. And I had shortsightedly given my last bits of change to a homeless man along the way, meaning payphones weren't a viable option either. So I had one shot, maybe less, to get a call to a friend and get them to pick me up at the station or I'd be potentially facing another 4.5 miles of walking to get home. I had to call someone that wouldn't be busy, but who was also someone that would be willing to help me out. Someone close would be best. And I had to talk fast.

After much consideration, I called my buddy Graham Richardson. And praise Jesus, he was available and willing to come pick me up without much explanation for why I needed to be picked up at a Metro station in the first place. Seconds after I hung up the phone, it died. Awesome, pulled it off.

Crap, I didn't tell him my phone was gonna die.

Long story short, I eventually tracked Graham down in the parking lot, about 5-10 minutes after he had arrived. We were on opposite ends of the parking lot and neither of us wanted to move for fear of missing the other.

There you have it. All told, this adventure took me about 8 1/2 hours. As I said before, quite an eventful day that ultimately led nowhere. But boy would it have been better with a partner...

Sorry for the traveling break

We're back. Let the great experiment recommence!

I pounded frantically at Derek's door. Even now I remember not knowing what I was going to say when I saw my friend. How could I explain what I was running from? If I told him I was terrified of a spooky feeling I had encountered in the woods, I'd never hear the end of it. What was I going to tell him?

The door opened before I could come up with something. "Mitchell? What's wrong?", he asked. "Ghosts!", I blurted out. Maybe I should have just gone with the truth after all. "In the woods," I added hasitly in anticipation of his next question. "Don't stupid. There's no such thing as ghosts," he shot back as I pushed past him and into, what I believed to be, the relative safety of his house.

After I had a chance to calm down, I was able to shake it off and we played inside throughout the rest of the day. Of course, Derek made sure all of our games involved ghosts somehow, but I was able to keep a straight face about it. I knew it would only get worse if he knew how much it bothered me. I was almost able to convince myself that it didn't bother me even. Almost.

But as I lay in my sleeping bag that night, in the basement of Derek's house, my thoughts strayed once again to that fateful encounter in the woods. The memory almost seemed to feed off of the fear deep within me. I knew I wouldn't be free of it until I faced it again. I had to know, for better or for worse, what could cause such a thing.

I'm pretty brave, I thought. I'll bet Derek wouldn't want to face something like that. He'd be too scared for sure. I comforted myself with these reassurances as my eyes became heavier and heavier. He's not worthy, I added, before going on to think that it was a strange thought to have just as I drifted in unconsciousness and both thoughts escaped from my waking mind.

And the Experiment Continues!

I'm really looking forward to seeing how my mood on a given day affects my writing, even within the same story. The fact that I'm not planning ahead leaves this story subject to my mood swings and life circumstances; even the weather. This could be exciting. Let's get back to it.

Smells have a funny way of sticking with you. Like how the smell of cookies can instantly transport you to your grandmother's kitchen. Only this smell was not like that. It was vile, almost malicious, and filled my heart with dread. Like a weight upon my tiny soul. It was almost more than I could bear as I struggled to maintain my consciousness.

It was fear that carried me through in the end. Fear of what an encounter with something that could cause such oppression from afar would do to me if it found me. I held onto that thought and stumbled back towards my house.

My world appeared, on the surface, to be remarkably the same. The cottonwood seeds still littered my yard, dancing in the wind gusts. My basketball still sat in the grass, sunbathing where I had left it days earlier. But I knew something was wrong now. My flight response had left my heart pounding in my chest, each beat like a hammer strike.

My mother was at work and wouldn't be home for several more hours. So I continued to fly, past my house, spilling into the street. "I'll go to Derek's house," I thought, "His older brother is always roaming around in those woods. He'll know what it is."

Now Derek's house was over a mile away, but in my heightened state I managed to cover the distance in record time. World record, it seemed to me, though it surely was a laughable notion. But it's a worthless exercise to try to convince a frightened child of such things.

I will once again make mention of the odd nature of memory, as this detail has always stuck with me. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. But the insignificant details that rally to recollection when summoned once more in old age never cease to astonish me. As I ran, I recall being struck once more by the seeming normalcy of the neighborhood. There was Mrs. Johnson's dog Baxter chasing a squirrel across the lawn. It struck me that he had caught one once years ago, and had sulked for days to have lost his "playmate". Dogs are dumb.

And so I arrived at Derek's front door.

Things I Write When I Should be Sleeping

This is gonna be a slightly experimental exercise so bear with me a little. An exercise in BS. I'm gonna try writing a story here, a couple paragraphs at a time, with no forethought or planning, and see how it comes out. I'll just be making it up as I go along. One sentence at a time, not sure where the next sentence will bring me. I don't know how long the story is gonna be, but I'll try to write often and keep the story moving so you aren't all caught up in suspense. Now...

How did it start? I've been asked that dozens of times over the years. And I don't think I have any better understanding of it today than I did when it happened. It's just one of those things that happens sometimes. In a universe full of a billion, billion things, everything has to happen somewhere right? But I am avoiding the question. I guess I'll just tell you what I've told all those curious people over the years: it started at the beginning...

When I was a young man I never cared much for socializing. I was a social pariah, though few would believe me, by choice. Other people were little more than an amusement, a curiosity to be observed from a distance. I guess I was always a scientist at heart. Who was I to contaminate the experiment?

All this time to myself didn't go to waste though. I would spend hours playing in my own imaginary world, alone in the woods behind my mother's house. My father had abandoned us when I was born. Or drank himself to death, or joined a traveling circus. I could never get a real answer out of my mother. She never talked about him much. Or at least she didn't sober.

But in those woods, I was safe. They went on for miles, one of the last untamed pieces of land left in New America. I would fight dragons and warlocks. I would rescue princesses and discover hidden treasure. I'd stay out there for hours and then I'd come home and write it all down, reliving every exciting moment all over again.

I don't remember the specific day it happened; what I had for breakfast, what clothes I was wearing and the like. It's strange how we spend so much energy worrying about trivial things like food and clothes when it's the seemingly trivial things that linger in your mind the longest. And what are we if not a collection of memories?

I remember the way the cottonwood seeds hung in the air that morning, like the slowest snowfall you've ever seen. I remember seeing the tracks of some wild animal that I still have never identified. And I remember the smell. I think, in some small way, it has never truly left my nostrils in all this time.

Been slacking off

Apologies for the more than a week that I've not written my blog. I think I'm more or less past the "30 days" that I had originally set out for, but I still would like to be writing every other day or so if I can. And if there's one thing I have in abundance right now, it's time to write.

There isn't much to say in the way of news. Super Apartment Bros. didn't get into the Machinima Festival, but odds are you either knew that already or you figured it out when I didn't post about it. Oh, and the "Locked In" thing fell through because the production dates got pushed back and I'll be in Minnesota for Christmas by then. So that sucks. Out $90 and I don't get to do what sounded like a legitimately awesome time. In other news, I'm planning an epic hike up a big mountain north of Glendale for January 1st. It's kind of intimidating but it will help keep me working out while I'm at home. At least a few times. I've been hiking as much as I can the last couple weeks to help prepare for it. Treadmills and stationary bikes are fine, but they aren't the same as an actual hike as far as actual strain on the muscles (and as far as aesthetic for that matter).

But back to Super Apartment Bros. It has been challenging lately. You work and work and work and hope things will pay off, but nothing happens and nothing happens some more. Sure we're up to over 50,000 views and we should be surpassing 1,000 subscribers within the next day or two. But we've worked our butt off to get those numbers. And they're still just a fraction of what we feel this series deserves. 50,000 views doesn't mean what it used to on youtube (Eric's "Wheatley vs Guilty Spark" video had more than double that in a single week, where it's taken us 5 months and 20+ videos)

I don't mean to sound ungrateful because we've more than tripled our subscriber base in the last 50 days. I am very appreciative of every subscriber we get. It's been such a struggle, just shouting out into the void of the internet, so even the few drips from this faucet are very satisfying. It's just frustrating to work so hard, and hope that your hard work will finally be rewarded, only to have nothing happen and have to face the reality of returning to the long fruitless grind with no end in sight.

Anyways, we're hoping to have the final two episodes (our two part finale) done within the next month or so. They are going to be epic, on a scope that we haven't come close to attempting before now, so I hope they live up to my expectations. We've got plans to spam some big video game blogs and really make a big stink about the finale so stay tuned for that and how you can help out on that front. We are hopeful that we will have more success on that front now that our channel has many more views and subscribers than the last time we tried to contact blogs. With a coordinated blitzkrieg, we think we can break through the fluff and maybe get some posts.

But again, that's not until the episodes are finished which may not be until January at the rate we're moving (we also need to raise some more money to cover the cost of the finale, so if you want to help with that, shoot me an email).

Anyways, not my best blog post. Sorry about that. Just kind of scattered today I guess.

Hooray

Some days you're just happy and grateful to be alive. Seriously, you should be every day. But I sincerely doubt that there has ever been anyone in history that didn't take at least one day for granted. Today was not one of those days.

I am just so grateful to be alive and have a life filled with so many blessings. There are so many things I focus on and think of all I don't have, when things like having a roof over my head, a full belly, companionship, love, health and freedom are constants in my life. Thank you God for all the blessings in my life and help me to remember when I'm not in a grateful mood. We are fickle beings.

Today was an excellent day. I went hiking today for several hours with my friend Ali. It was a great time as I did Runyon Canyon and hiked up behind the Hollywood sign (separate hikes). My legs are not entirely excited about the day, but they'll get over it in short order. My working out has started to pay dividends for me as I am quite certain I couldn't have handled those hikes nearly as well (if at all) just two months ago. I was tired when I was done, but I'm pretty sure I could have easily hiked for another couple hours too. Long live healthier Luke!

After hiking we went to a restaurant called "The Griddle", a place I'd heard a lot about in the last few months but never had occasion (or money) to go there. But my mom sent me some happy money for Thanksgiving, so I figured, "No time like the present!". Let me just say that it definitely lived up to it's reputation. The French toast I had was insanely good. I don't know how, but it almost literally melted in my mouth. So good. So for all you friends and family reading this from the non-LA area, I have a new place to take visitors!

I also received a call today from a production called "Locked In", a new pilot for the History channel. Tim had submitted us for the casting call and they are interested in having us on. The show's basic premise is they lock teams of three in a hardware store over night (6pm-4am) and give them building challenges. We will have full access to all the tools and building materials we could want. It sounds like an awesome night to me and I'm really excited about doing it. Also, it pays $90 which isn't too shabby for building random stuff with my friends.

We are submitting more materials but it sounds like they really want us on the show. I'll keep you all up to date on that though.

Other than that, not a lot to say about today. Some days you're just happy. God bless!

p.s. Just a few minutes ago, Super Apartment Bros. reached it's 300th subscription in the last 7 days! It's a new record and blows away the old best by a substantial amount. Still got 11 hours to go to complete the week, so we will see how we end up with that.

The Faith of A Mustard Seed: Combining Parables

I was thinking today. About mustard seeds. Jesus famously twice made mention of mustard seeds in his parables. In Matthew 17:20 he talks about how "faith as big as a mustard seed" can move mountains. And in Matthew 13:31-32, Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven to a mustard seed, that grows from something small into a mighty tree, where birds take shelter. The stories appear in other Gospels as well, though I'm just gonna go with Matthew for now.

These are two of Jesus' most famous teachings and anyone that grew up in a church has surely heard them before. But as I said before, I was thinking about these parables today. In conjunction. Warning: this is more of an illustration, postulation discussion than a strictly theologically sound one (I feel somewhat wary about combining separate passages in general, but I like this so I'm gonna try it out here). For serious theological advice, consult someone with an M.Div...

¹⁹ Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?”
²⁰ He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

First of all, I've always thought that the mustard seed reference to "moving mountains" seemed a little extreme. Was this meaning that God would reward the smallest amount of faith with the mightiest of deeds? What then could be done by someone with a lot of faith? Or was this more about how the real power lies with God and not with anything we can do but believe? (very possibly, but like all scripture I think there's more that can be gleaned from it, so stick with me).

It always seemed almost condescending to me how he rebukes his disciples as well. These were the apostles he was talking to. Was he really saying they didn't have a mustard seed's worth of faith? How can we hope to surpass the faith of the men Jesus was closest to on earth, who couldn't even muster a miniscule mustard seed's worth of faith? Or was he really just saying that their faith was too little and trying to illustrate that?

I've been thinking about it in terms of a God that keeps sculpting us and perfecting us throughout our life, even using mistakes we make along the way. I misspoke (miswrote?) before when I called them "the apostles". They weren't really. Not yet. Jesus was still before them and we are told that they were kept from fully understanding all that they saw. They were not "complete" if you will.

Maybe Jesus didn't use the mustard seed in both of these illustrations by accident. I think it was, in fact, done deliberately. Because faith and the Kingdom of God are intertwined. The Kingdom of God is within those that believe.

What I see, when I combine these passages, is Jesus saying "Give me even the smallest amount of faith, faith as small as a lowly mustard seed, and I will make it grow up within you. I will cultivate your faith until it becomes a safe place for those in need of shelter and rest."

In 1 Corinthians 3:7, it says:

⁷ So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

Continue to grow up my faith Lord and help me to move mountains in your name.

Full Day

Yesterday was a full day that left no time for blogging. Sorry if you were waiting for a post.

My friend Kevin Brooks woke me up at 10 am yesterday asking me to go to Black Friday sales with him. Since Kevin doesn't have a car, it may have also been asking me to drive him to Black Friday sales. But whatever.

I hadn't planned on going to Black Friday sales this year because I think they are getting out of hand. But I agreed to go along because I like to help people. It was a dangerous proposition for someone in my financial situation, but the sales really are ridiculous. I ended up buying a couple movies that I'd really been wanting to buy for the last year or two ("Social Network" and "Crazy, Stupid, Love") for just $4 and I managed to find the first four seasons of "Breaking Bad" (one of my favorite shows, and possibly the greatest show ever made) for $10 a piece. That was just too good of a price to pass up. I also bought a few gifts as well. So productive times overall.

I then had to scramble back from shopping to change and get ready for an afternoon hike. It being the day after Thanksgiving, a few of us were eager to burn some calories. We hiked to the top of the Verdguo mountain range behind my apartment. We could see the entire valley, downtown Los Angeles and could even see the ocean if it weren't for the clouds. Took us about 2 hours but we made it up and back down in one piece. More or less...

After that wonderful hike, I had just enough time to shower and catch my breath before heading out for a post-Thanksgiving potluck with my church community group. It was a great time and marked the fourth consecutive day I had Thanksgiving related dinner plans. Again, that hike was really necessary for burning some excess calories ;)

That was basically my whole day, but there was another element as well. On Thanksgiving morning, someone posted about "Super Apartment Bros." on a website called cheezburger.com. In the first 48 hours following the posting, we welcomed 215 new subscribers to our channel (which by itself, would be a new high for a single week for us). It's the kind of thing we've been hoping for more of since the show premiered and we're very grateful for the boost. Our total subscriber base has now topped 860 (for the record, about 500 of those subscribed within the last month) and we're hoping to break 1,000 soon.

We still haven't heard anything from the Machinima Festival we submitted to so I don't know what to make of that. The festival starts next Friday so I would think we'd have heard by now, but I also would think we'd have heard a "no" by now as well. I'm still holding out for hope though (to be fair, Eric has been in an area with no cell reception and no real internet to speak of for the holiday weekend, so it's possible he just hasn't received the message). I, of course, will post as soon as I have any news on that front. No matter what happens, I'm very grateful for the headway we have made already this month.

The Great Paradox

Time to get a little personal here. And some of this I've never told anyone before (I know that's kind of cliche, but I've never even considered talking to someone else about this). But I'm running out of friends who are close enough that I can talk to them about this stuff, so consider yourself fortunate that our paths have crossed here and now in this moment.

Thing I've never told anyone before number 1. I can sense, almost immediately, when a guy is interested in a girl. That moment where "I think she's cute" becomes "I'd like to date her" is as clear as a light bulb physically going off over their head to me. It's not anything about body language, or any kind of conscious thing. I just can sense it, from across the room even. Like their soul is crying out and I can hear it. It catches my attention without even needing to be looking sometimes.

Maybe it's pheromones, maybe it's telepathy. Maybe it's some kind of premonition, sixth sense kind of thing. But it's very real. I can also usually tell when a girl is into a guy, though it usually isn't as quick. Maybe women are more subtle. I've always had a very sensitive intuition and empathy, with people especially, so I tend to think that is responsible.

But one thing I can never tell is when someone is attracted to me. I have lived on this earth for nearly 27 years so I'm sure that it has happened a few times along the line. The only times I've ever known was when a girl's friends explicitly told me. And that's only happened twice. Once in 5th grade, which really shouldn't count. And once in college, where the feeling was not mutual and we still managed to be "dating without the good stuff" for about two years. So yea...

Now, it is important to mention here that I've pursued other girls. And it's also important to mention that I'm batting .000 in that category. Not one of the girls I've pursued has reciprocated my feelings at all. So just like a batter who is batting .000 in a baseball season, it starts to get in your head after a while. My self confidence is low enough that it's become an incredible mental struggle to even convince myself that someone I'm interested could feel the same way about me. Not even necessarily that they do now, but that they could, someday, actually be interested in me too. And when your self confidence is that fragile, it's pretty near impossible to drag your bat back up to the plate to try again. It doesn't matter what my logical brain says. Emotionally, I'm just not capable of that level of self belief.

But even with all my own broken brain and self confidence issues, the biggest factor working against me is history. So here's thing I've never told anyone number two. Historically, I can consistently tell when a girl is about to enter into a relationship. And the way that I can tell this is that I really think she might be into me. It's 100%, never fails. I think a wire must have been crossed at some point. Maybe it really is pheromones and I'm picking up on the feelings she has for the other guy? Seems plausible enough.

I have gotten to the point where I can at least logically discern that when I think a girl who I have little to know interaction with might be interested in me, she's definitely pining after someone else. So at least I'm not actually fooled as easily anymore. But the point being that, historically whenever I've thought a girl might be into me, she's been into someone else. So today, every time I think that a girl might be into me, and I can somehow manage to overcome my self doubt/batting average and convince myself that I may be reading it right, I have this little factoid staring me in the face and reminding me that it's almost certainly someone else.

So there it is, the great paradox of my life. I can sense these things for other people but I can't sense it for me to save my life. Am I destined to live alone or will I find a solution to this conundrum?

Of course the easy answer is to just ask girls when I think there is something between us. But as I said before, it just gets harder every time I strike out. At least in the batter's box, I can hold on to the hope that this time will be different. Then, eventually, I am called out for not stepping up to the plate at all, and I'm in the same place either way. But logic doesn't get the final say and my heart is cowardly. I pray God can teach it to be brave.

Challenge Failed: Dang, I missed one

Oops. Looks like I missed a post yesterday. Disappointing. Oh well, back in the saddle.

Yesterday was a busy day for me. We threw together a Thanksgiving party for the people that are working on Thursday and won't be able to have a proper dinner that day. So I spent the entire day cooking with hostess extraordinaire Ali Williams.

Monday night, I found out that I was supposed to have been invited to this event but my text message got "lost in the mail" as it were. Ali's text have had trouble finding my phone in the past (now I wonder what other texts I've missed) so it wasn't terribly surprising. I had heard that it was a possibility and had left my schedule open for it, but it was still nice to have it confirmed finally. And since neither of us had gotten the food we were supposed to be bringing to the dinner yet, we resolved to go on a late night shopping run together.

Long story short, what started as "get the missing ingredients for the chicken & dumplings" and me getting a couple cans of corn turned into 7 dishes, pie (store bought), whipped cream and gravy. Because I felt somewhat responsible for allowing Ali to take on that many additional dishes to prepare (and frankly encouraged it more than a few times), I offered to help her with the cooking. She gratefully accepted as I think her excitement had gotten a bit ahead of her during the shopping.

It was quite an experience. Ali had been buzzed on Red Bull when we were shopping so she had stayed up, after she got home, working on a plan to get everything done and out the door on time for the dinner. She went through... must have been 5 or 6 rough drafts before settling on a final plan. With the two hour cooking session planned down to the minute, we were ready to start. Very ready even.

In hindsight, I can't imagine her attempting to do that cooking session on her own. I'm sure she could have pulled it off but it would have taken her a lot more time and a LOT more work. As the assistant, I mostly took on menial tasks that allowed her to stay focused on the big picture and the dishes I have no idea how to make (mostly the sweet potato casserole and chicken and dumplings, both from scratch). I mostly was just cleaning dishes, slicing veggies, setting out rolls on the baking sheet, etc.

When it was all said and done, we figured we had enough food that we could have put on our own thanksgiving feast by ourselves. Not only had we gotten everything made, but we got it done precisely on schedule as well. We put those sitcom Thanksgivings to shame. Go team!

Dinner was a great time and everyone loved the food we made, which is always the greatest reward for two hours in a kitchen. I enjoy cooking but rarely get the chance to cook for people (which is way more rewarding than cooking for myself or for leftovers) so I was very happy about that. I was pretty tired after all the cooking and subsequent eating of food, so I wasn't much for conversation after dinner unfortunately (if I had a dollar for every person that asked if I was ok after dinner, I would have been able to cover my costs for the night). I was fine, I was just digesting and wanted to do it quietly while watching a movie. Something that's hard to do when the movie is muted and there's 30 people talking everywhere. But I digress.

I realized yesterday that, as much as it sucks being away from family for Thanksgiving (again), it's a cool opportunity to try different dishes and traditions that are not a part of my upbringing. I got to try my hand at cooking a lot of new dishes that I've never attempted before and eat some others. It was a great day all around.

The Challenges of Being an Introvert

That's right, you read that correctly. While many of my friends I've met out here may not be at all surprised to see me label myself as an introvert, anyone that's known me for more than one or two years knows that I'm as talkative as they come. To any new friends that may somehow stumble on this post; note that it's introvert, not shy. Let's talk about the distinction for a minute.

Introversion and Extroversion are not the same as shy and outgoing. They have to do with the way that the person processes their environment, emotions and thoughts. Sometimes they relate to what the person finds value in (i.e. going out and "partying" with no meaningful interaction vs. staying in or having a one on one conversation). Most, if not all, of the world's greatest thinkers have been introverted (guess which one most reality TV stars are...). They process their environment internally and consider it carefully. As a result, they are able to see and interpret stimuli differently than their extroverted counterparts. Naturally, they are much more satisfied in an empty room by themselves than an extrovert who would become quickly bored and under stimulated.

One of the challenges for introverts is that extroverts have a leg up in the reproduction game, as they are more apt to go out and meet people, are less likely to overthink themselves in social situations and so forth. As a result, scientists estimate that about 75% of the population is extroverted. And this means that society is geared towards extroverts. So while the extrovert may get bored from too little stimuli alone in an empty room, the introvert has the opposite response when forced into a overly stimulating environment by extroverts. Introverts tend to shut down in loud and crowded spaces, where there is simply too much happening for them to process. It's not a choice, it's just a natural reaction of an over active mind.

But extroverts, being unthoughtful and introspective, will often times assume that there must be something wrong with the introvert that he/she doesn't want to do the same things that the majority does. They will try to coax the "shy" introvert out of their "shell". This is about as effective as trying to coax a turtle to fly by the way, for those that have been on the other side of this. Introverts don't need the approval of the crowd to be content so peer pressure like that isn't usually effective anyways (to a certain extent, it is on young introverts that don't realize that there is not, in fact, something wrong with them, but that's another discussion).

But when put into an environment that is less stimulating, say a dinner party or a group of a few friends, introverts will often surprise people. They can be quite intelligent, well spoken and are often very insightful.

Ideally the world needs both to succeed as they both have important roles to play in history and society as a whole. Let's hope this generation of introverts can carry the torch of understanding to our extroverted brethren and keep the light of human reason and ingenuity shining for the next generation.

Losing Sight of Things

Listened to a particularly convicting sermon today in church. The pastor was preaching on Matthew 5:13, the verse about being the salt of the earth. It was a wildly appropriate way for me to close out what has been a less than stellar weekend emotionally.

I often have struggled with things out here in LA. I came out here to follow God's calling to reach this city and reach its people for Him. My goals within the industry are, and must remain, secondary to that. Yes, I need to be in this industry to reach it because it's an extremely cloistered group. But it's easy to lose sight of the overarching objective in all of this.

Christians are kind of seen as underdogs and weaklings (or worse) by most of this city and much of the country in general. And the truth is we have embraced that role. Or we've focused on pervading the public eye to change people's behavior (though not their hearts).

But Jesus sees us differently. The pastor pointed out something very important about this passage that is so obvious it sometimes goes unmentioned. He didn't say we should be the salt of the earth or that we could be if we live right. He says we "are" the salt of the earth. As he said in the sermon, "The God that said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light, has said to you, 'You're salt.'" So live like it.

Salt had many purposes in the ancient world but the three the pastor talked about today were preventing decay in meat, renewing soil for fertilization and adding flavor to food (something it's still widely used for). So no matter which way you look at it, it's a pretty vivid picture of how we are supposed to be salt in the world.

That's all I have for now, since I'm still kind of processing this wonderful sermon. I'll post up a link on here when it gets posted to their website. It's pretty compelling and I'll be listening to it several times in the coming week (and probably beyond).

*REALITY LA Sermon

Good for what ails ya

This morning I woke up in a deep funk. Just really sad and didn't want to do anything. Then I decided to give myself a break from my healthy eating and go to Burger King. For whatever reason, that turned my day around pretty good. I mean my stomach was not the happiest about the decision in the aftermath (I'm definitely losing my ability to eat at certain fast food restaurants without hearing about it after from my stomach). But somehow giving myself a break from the stress of calorie counting and self denial seemed to turn my entire day around.

There's not a whole lot to tell after that unfortunately. I'm sure I could come up with a lot more to talk about still but I'm tired now and don't really feel like it. Especially since I need to write another entry for this blog in like 12 hours.

Suffice it to say I had a fun, mildly productive day when all was said and done and leave it at that. Nothing terribly deep or profound worth mentioning. Today was kind of personified by that Burger King Rodeo Burger. Not terribly nutritious or fulfilling but I was still happy about it after.

That frustrating time in weight loss

It's a little known fact about muscles, unless you actually studied them like I did, that the first 6 weeks or so of any workout routine will yield no muscle growth. That's not to say that you will see no improvement in muscle performance during that time of course. But the first 6 weeks are primarily dedicated to improving the innervation of the muscles themselves. In layman's terms, that means that the nerves are becoming more efficient at working the muscle that is already there. It's not until about the 6 week mark that they have reached peak efficiency and your body seeks new ways to adapt to the continued stress you're putting on your muscles.

So at that point you begin to grow the muscles you have. And this creates a problem for losing weight. Because while you may continue slimming down and losing fat, you may find that your weight loss begins to flatten out or even reverse. Of course it's common knowledge that muscle weighs substantially more than fat so it shouldn't be a surprise really. But it's still disheartening to see your weight loss stagnate despite the continued hard work.

And that's where a lot of people, inevitably, lose their drive. They say, "Why should I keep busting my butt at the gym when I am not seeing the same weight loss I was just a couple weeks ago?" Then they eat a donut and go on with their day. And of course the pounds pile right back on because, another little known fact, fat cells don't just go away when you slim down, they shrink. They persist as smaller cells. It's not until about a year after you slim down that the fat cells are finally eliminated. Your body is efficient. It's not going to get rid of them when you might need them again later (and to be honest, most people seem to don't they?). This is, of course, the main problem with dieting to lose weight, but I don't want to get into that right now. Back to the working out thing...

When weight loss becomes more important than improving health, it creates all kinds of psychological barriers and problems. It's a challenge in our society where BMI (body mass index) has been applied to individual people, something it was never intended for. BMI is a source for many of the problems in our weight obsessed culture. It's because BMI is quantifiable and standard, where overall health is far less so.

And we, as a species, seem to be growing increasingly obsessed with the measurable and quantifiable. Aesthetics and arts are being pushed aside by standardization and uniformity. Efficiency is the name of the game in this world spinning faster and faster. And efficiency needs quantifiable measurements.

The problem is that humans, no matter how much science and biology text books would want to say otherwise, are not living machines. Even most doctors will tell you that medicine is more of an art than a science at times (or even just a game of blind darts, as anyone that has gone to a physician and been given a shrug and prescription for general antibiotics can testify to). Despite all the advances in medicine the last 100 years, we still know so little about it.

Our society is broken and not to listen to anything but this. Healthy diet and exercise are always working in your favor. Even when the scale says otherwise. Even when the BMI says you're "overweight" or even "obese" (especially then actually). Keep working and keep eating healthy. You'll be happier for it in the end (and there is all kinds of brain chemistry and health science to support this, but I won't bore you with it now).

All this is to say simply: eat healthy(ish) and exercise regularly and you'll have a better life. And don't give up.