Hello everyone… I’ve been a little quiet these last few days because I am preparing to fly to Iceland to shoot my first-ever documentary film (!!!). I’ll be gone the rest of the week, but I’ll return on Monday full of tales (or Sagas, if you will.)

Long-time readers may remember that last year, I won a grant from the Art Matters Foundation. I’m using the award to head to Reykjavik with my friend, the cinematographer Brad Coffman. We’re making a film about Iceland’s fascinating theatre scene, which is one of the most unique I’ve ever encountered. Along with interviewing a host of artists, artistic directors, and critics, we’re also seeing two shows and peeking in on some rehearsals.

Even longer-time readers may recall that this will be my third trip to Iceland. In 2006 Andrew and I went for our first anniversary, and in 2008 I traveled there to review an international theatre festival. Clearly, I love me some Icelanders.

I cannot wait to take this trip, and I’m anticipating having a very exciting movie to show you in a few weeks.

Also? I’m kind of exploding wtih gratitude for the universe.  How the hell did a public school student from semi-rural Tennessee end up doing something like this?

Partially, I feel like this entire project came about because I said “yes” to scary things.

I mean… consider this: I just happened to be talking with an artist friend last year about needing extra money, and she mentioned the Art Matters grant. Even though The Critical Condition didn’t exactly fit within the organization’s guidelines, I decided to apply.

When I got an award, I knew I wanted to make some short videos about various elements of Icelandic culture, but when Brad suggested we create a longer, narrative documentary about a single subject, I felt nervous. Could I do it? Could I really make a film? I decided to believe that I could.

Then came the prep work… calling all these people in Iceland and America and identifying myself not as a writer, but as a filmmaker. Whoa! I’ve never defined myself that way before, and at first, it was scary. Was this new identity allowed?

Well… it was allowed because I allowed it to be. You know what I mean? I decided to say “yes” to the idea that I was a filmmaker. The short films I’ve been making for TDF STAGES boosted my confidence enough to make me give it a shot.

Besides, there was a time when I wasn’t really making my living as a critic and reporter, but I was calling myself a critic and reporter anyway. Eventually, the label became true. Same deal with being the host of a pop culture criticism website. I kept saying I wanted The Critical Condition to happen, and then, thanks to a lot of persistance from a lot of great people, it did.

I’m not saying I haven’t worked hard, or that I haven’t been blessed with lucky breaks. I have, and I have. But for years, I’ve also forced myself to say “yes” to new things. I’ve forced myself, despite my ever-present nerves, to keep giving stuff a whirl.

This is partly because of my training in improv comedy, where a scene dies unless you say “yes” to whatever random suggestion your partner gives you. If she says, “Why do you have an elephant on your head?” and you say, “That’s not an elephant, stupid; it’s a crow,” then you will kill the moment. You will destroy the momentum of a scene by refusing to accept what is offered you. This has become part of my life philosophy as well. It’s less demanding and risky to shut things down, to close doors, but it’s rarely as rewarding.

So… as I embark on a crazy, unexpected new adventure—to make a movie! in Iceland!—I feel I should reflect on this whole “saying yes” thing. If you find yourself being asked to do something strange or new or difficult, then let me encourage you to nod your head at it. Let it enter your life. You might end up on a plane, next to a cinematographer, trying to remember where the good hot dog places are neear the Hotel Reykjavik Centrum.