"By perseverance the snail reached the arc." -Charles Spurgeon
Once upon a time, there was a snail, who would later be known as Hudson, who had an unfortunate accident involving falling down a flight of stairs– which in no way was a reflection of domestic abuse; but, instead a classic case of curiosity meeting clumsiness on the internet, going on a date, falling in love and making babies together.
Back in February I accidentally knocked Hudson off the wall, and down the stairs, outside of my apartment and his shell broke open. Not cracked. Broke open. Like, a snail-sized asteroid came screaming into his atmosphere and exploded the roof of his house like the jerk an asteroid is. Needless to say, my simple animal loving heart could barely take the affront to this mollusk's life, so I brought him inside and did what any panicked-snail-cradling person would do… I got on Google.
Turned out snails can grown their own shells, but big gapping holes created problems with being able to maintain moisture. I did my best to create a damp environment, but prospects did not look good.
After a week, he showed snail-sized signs of improvement, so he was upgraded from deli-dish to a Mo-snail 6, and named after the place where the first ever moving sidewalk was installed, the Hudson Railroad.
Fast forward through the montage of my learning every *fun snail fact*, and a few months of him growing a patch over his injury… it was finally time to release him.
Now, being the actor/creator type… I decided somewhere in month 2 that I wanted make this into a short film. Commence filming! I don't know if anyone has ever tried filming a snail, but… it is exactly what it sounds like.
Lucky for me, I have friends and a brother who put up with such nonsense, and even offer their help. I'm either the luckiest person alive, or we're all so weird we have achieved homeostasis in our eccentricity. Either way, " 'hey, I'm going to start filming Hudson, and the release, and can you do an interview for it, and can I use your camera?' 'sure.' " Was a real conversation in my house.
So we finally let him go.
And we filmed it.
The whole thing began because I felt bad I completely ruined this snail's day, but morphed into something that taught me patience and appreciation for things in life that take time. Snails move slowly; yet, somehow they continue to survive and get where they are going… not a terrible metaphor for the acting world, eh? I'll take it.
Hudson created a snail-sized voice in the back of my mind which constantly questioned my sanity and reasons for caring about this insignificant seeming creature. However, as he snailed away, perhaps to be eaten by a crow immediately, or, to live a long life in the shadows of Griffith Park, I felt happy. And that was reason enough.
And so, it is my pleasure to share with you: Releasing Hudson.