Balance. Ironically it's one of the things we're seeking for our family as we sell our belongings and move, voluntarily jobless, to another continent for a year. It's been too long since we've posted a blog, and aside from how busy life is getting just trying to prepare for the next year, I just finished working on a variety of television pilots. Long hours. Long weeks.
Pilot Season has always been the storm before the calm for my family. Post production folk all over Los Angeles bid farewell to their families and dive into pilot season. We know this is, likely, the last work to be had until the Fall. At the end of it we say goodbye to each other and hello to our families again (usually sleep for a day or two to catch up) and try to figure out how to re-insert ourselves into life at home once again.
Several years ago Brenna and the kids started leaving town to visit family during pilot season -- they're in Arkansas right now. Yesterday, I found myself sitting on the Warner Bros. lot on a Sunday, my first day off in a while, eating a sandwich in the middle of what used to be Stars Hollow, or Hazzard County if you want to go back a little farther, and might well be Eastwick, Rhode Island next year. I woke up to an empty house and couldn't bring myself to do any of the thousand things I should be doing to prepare for June -- as in the month after May, the month we're in right now. When I left the house to get lunch I didn't intend to go to the lot. Even as I left Togos with my sandwich I thought I was heading for a nearby park to sit and eat. Somehow I ended up back at Warner Bros. and it occurred to me, this is why I'm going so far away to seek my balance. The cosmic pull of the routine is stronger than my own free will. It's all I know -- what I've done my entire adult life. It's time for balance. Or maybe just a new obsession...