I Love L.A...?

My mom tells me that my dad thinks/hopes I will one day move to live near them and my sister's family in Missouri (they moved to the mid-west from CA after I went to college). She's tried to talk some sense into him, but he tells her to keep an open mind about it. Not that he's ever mentioned it to me, and he probably knows better than to even try. No offense to anyone in Missouri because I do know several cool people that live there and I'm sure they're happy. But everytime my mom tells me this (and it's been at least twice), I think - REALLY?? SERIOUSLY???

OK, so it's sweet. It's sweet to want to have the family all live near each other. But my family does not live near a city like Kansas City or St. Louis, but rather near the Arkansas border and a notorious little place called Branson, which is like Vegas without the gambling, booze, and titties (uh, so what's Vegas without the gambling, booze, and titties? Riiiiight... Think "good clean fun" with lots of fiddles, corny jokes, and patriotism).

Not to sound like a snob, but there are few places that could begin to satisfy me socially, culturally, and professionally. Even here, with everything this city offers, I have yet to fall in love - really fall in love with Los Angeles. I've lived here for 6 non-consecutive years (4 and then 2), but I still think it can one day happen.

Lately I have found myself thinking that I'm really lucky to live here, and that there are not many places in the world where I can do or see ____. Case in point. I recently joined a radical spirituality group. And it's...radical. Last time we met, a body artist came to share with us his experiences on the intersection between pain, ritual, and spirituality. Then with several candles lit and a couple of people drumming on some bongos, he carved a flower design with a scalpel into a woman's back. "Do they numb the back first?" my Mom asked me. "No, Mom - that's the point. Using pain and ritual as a transformative process. A spiritual transendence." OK, so I don't expect everyone to get it. But that's the point; there's enough people in L.A. who do, and who can come together and support such an endeavor.

My mom and I were walking near my apartment during this "Why I will not move to Missouri" conversation. "You see that building over there?" I pointed out to her. "That's the Writer's Guild of America. I live two blocks from the Writer's Guild. On Thursday they're having a panel on GLBT projects in Hollywood. Where else in the world could I go to such a thing?"

The panel was called "Gay Today in Hollywood: A Status Report." Writers, producers, and agents, most of them from the GLBT community, spoke on the panel. The highlight for me was Dustin Lance Black (Academy Award-winning writer from Milk), and hearing him talk about getting his project made. He shopped his script around for a long time, hearing "no" after "no" after "no." Then someone said "Maybe this could be a TV movie..." and it was Mr. Black's turn to say "no." He held on to his script until he was sure that it was in the right hands. He knew how great the movie could be and how much impact it could have. So he waited, held onto his idealism, and it paid off.

Another person on the panel was Liz Feldman, who writes for the Ellen Show. She's currently shopping around a sitcom with a lesbian lead. She's also gotten a lot of "no"s, but she told us that she's committed to sticking with the project until it gets picked up.

I found the panel inspiring to go to. This city, with everything it offers, can be a very inspiring place to live. There is so much to be found, if you look hard enough and if you know what you're looking for. I don't know if I will live here forever. I do have fantasies of moving (mostly because my curiosity loves to contemplate new territory). But as far as I know, it's the closest thing I've ever really found to begin to call home.