It was probably inevitable.
From my first day in LA, I was amazed and delighted with the place. Glam and gritty, fabulous and sprawling, the adopted home of exiles and geniuses (including many from Eastern Europe), the center of a creative industry that sends its voice all over the world - what’s not to love?
It actually felt a lot like Moscow, a California version of Moscow: warm and star-obsessed, with palm trees and a beach. Having lived in the real Moscow, I felt right at home with all the contradictory bling and scramble. And unlike most new Angelenos, I was unfazed by the traffic and smog. The 405 freeway at its worst still moves faster than the MKAT, and the view is a damned sight prettier.
I was in town for a screenwriting workshop, held in Burbank, right next to the Universal Studios backlot. Driving through the place one could encounter craftsmen and work crews, 18-wheelers hauling giant pieces of equipment or set, busy folks with clipboards, and the unmistakeable smell of a project in progress. I felt like I was back on the construction site, only this time the heart of the project was a story. It was at once new and familiar. I found myself wanting to get closer, get involved, to join one of those crews and see what was happening on set.
So you won’t be surprised to hear that I’ve decided to give up my lovely San Francisco life and move to Hollywood.
I don’t know all the details yet. I’ll be leaving sometime in the next two months, I hope to work in the business/production side of the industry, and also to write screenplays. Everything else is subject to change without notice...and if you figure it out before I do, please let me know.