It’s been two months since I last blabbered on here. Two months since I made my way out west to make a new life and figure out what to do with it (see the last maudlin thing before this. I’ll wait).

And a lot can happen in two months.

I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version: it did not work out as planned. A lot of hooks in the water.
Plenty of nibbles. No bites.

Not a failure, but not a success. Least not in the conventional sense, anyways. I had friends, contacts and all kinds of networking on the go. And that was it. I had been invited and encouraged to make the trip and give it a go. And I had nothing to bring to the table.

It should be noted that many of these friends DO have things to bring to this metaphorical table. Filmmakers, writers, artists, performers of all stripes. Each and every one of them had established themselves by putting in the time, effort and sacrifice to get where they are.

Me? I had ideas. Nothing concrete, nothing to show once I got my foot in the door. As far as hard lessons go, it’s one of the hardest: to realize that you are NOWHERE near ready to get into the ring. I realized that I was still a “little fish” and that there’s no room for me in the “big fish” pond.

So here I am. Back at the starting line, no further ahead than I was when I left Toronto. Except for one thing: clarity.

Nine months ago, I was a part of something. I was the first to flash my business card at functions and events because, dammit, I was proud of that. I had made this position my identity. And now, it’s gone. Since then, I have struggled with the knowledge that THIS was no longer my life. Three years of amazing opportunities and wonderful moments and a feeling of belonging. It was a good life. But it’s over now. And I am slowly accepting it, the final stage of the break-up. It’s not easy. Some days are better than others, knowing that there are some people and things that are now out of reach and out of my day-to-day routine. Some by circumstance, some by their own choosing. But there are no grudges to be had, no ill will. I wish them well and nothing but success.

So, now what? What comes next? This. I have a fresh start and this little corner of the blogosphere. And it’s mine to shape and mold. I started Thoughts And Scribbles as a form of creative therapy, something to help push through the “grey days” of my new status quo. But it can be more. So here’s the new contract with you, Constant Reader.

Once a week, to start off. Let’s make it Wednesdays, shall we? Be it a recommendation, an interview or whatever random thoughts are floating around in my noggin, it will show up here. Not to mention the occasional “pop-in” from assorted folks with things to say (because sharing is caring). Like clockwork. Because all the connections, the name-dropping and schmoozing it up in all the right places mean nothing without putting in the time on what matters most.

It’s the work. Without that, everything else is wheel-spinning.

Hard lessons are still lessons. And I’ve learned a couple along the way.

Now, time to dust myself off, straighten my collar and, as Stephen King would say, “get on”.

Thank you for this moment of self-indulgence. Time to get to work.

WEDNESDAY: Why the third time’s the charm for DC’s resident occult troubleshooting bastard.