Living in Los Angles can be wildly outlandish at times. At times? Try, all the time. I don’t think I ever attempted anything more challenging in life than trying to “break” this town, trying to concur it, trying to overcome all the frustrating egos and behaviors poking at me like the weed I need to trim or remove, in order to make way toward my goals. What are my goals? Living a peaceful, content life while putting my creative product out there to fly, please, inspire.

Whenever it’s unbearably hard, I think about people. I think about people I mentally “collect”, the one’s that achieved that creative success while being true to themselves, without compromises, taking no prisoners. Even when it means doing less, but doing what truly pleases them.

They inspire me every day. They are my soul food, they keep me going when I stumble over fakeness, mediocrity, unkind people that want to see you fall; afraid your success would somehow undermine theirs.

Los Angeles is also a place of high extremes. Somedays you want to weep, somedays you stumble upon people that circumscribed your childhood through a TV screen; like getting high and low on drugs, trying to balance each extreme with another. Trying to somehow stay grounded, as if you can actually use those highs and lows to level yourself where you’re suppose to be – in the middle.

Not to get into too much detail, this is a thought-provoking platform after all; I got reminded to one Joseph Fiennes the other day. Interesting how some people stay with you through their art, some never touch you, regardless how “big” the become. The ones that do touch you, they create art that provoked something in you, and you can’t even distinguish what is that exact detail that inspired or moved you, or when it’d actually happened; only that you remembered the face, the feeling; regardless how much time have passed.

I mention Joe to some people in last few days, and almost everyone had the same irritating sentence to follow – “He was so big at some point, BUT what happened to him?”

This must be my most hated sentence of all times. So many times I heard people telling me I could of been so much bigger if I played nicer to press, if I said more, as if the media notoriety would guarantee me happier life, solve my production cost issues that I as a woman who’s trying to own and run my own business solely on my own with no help whatsoever; as if they can decide for me what my perception of success should be!

We live in mega irritating times where society thinks the fame, popularity and attention are the most important things in the world, regardless of quality. To have that option to be “big”, “huge”, people pulling your sleeve, pushing their sharpies to your face to scribble your autograph to some dumb pic they dragged, like that matters more than the actual art you’re creating. Nah! And major blah.

The likes of Joseph, or let’s say Josh Hartnett, and endless discussion as to “how they were suppose to be huge but what happened”, the people. The damn people and their entitlement to decide and judge what constitutes of success! The attention? Followers? Influence? Reach?

An idiot, a clown can be an influencer today. The more idiotic, the more clicks. Are the clicks exclusive to quality?

People are slaves to attention, today.  And the ones that take it lightly, the ones that do not engage it, or attract it; they anger people. How dare Joseph Fiennes, at the hight of Shakespeare in Love fame decide to take a year off to travel to India, rather than stay in Hollywood to capitalize on Shakespeare’s success? How dare Josh Hartnett after 40 Days and 40 Nights fame decide to lay low and refuse to put on the tights to star in some huge studio superhero blockbuster?

I live for those artists. The true artists who enjoy their creative process and dwell anything else that comes with it, the ones who would almost sabotage their career to not give everyone full access to their private lives, the one’s that thrive not off of attention, but solid fulfilled life. The one’s that define success as living the way it suits them, and not being slaves to their ego or mega recognition.

I went on to watch The Camelot over the weekend, a TV show I wanted to dive in for the longest time, but never managed; with Joseph in the role of Merlin. It was a new, sexy, take on the iconic Sorcerer; his screen presence was as grand as ever, stealing every scene, proving once more his career status is only his choice, and his prerogative.