But dreaming and doing are very different. Life happens, and often I feel I've become a passenger on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, holding on with white knuckles and unsure what is around the next twist in the road.
It takes a village to make a movie, but contrary to popular belief getting into the business isn't necessarily about who you know or sleep with. There is room in Hollywood for people who are passionate and work hard to find their place in the industry. Also contrary to popular belief, there is very little glamour involved in making a movie. The hours are long, egos are big, and the work can be physically and mentally demanding. But it can also be hugely rewarding.
But following the Hollywood Dream comes with a Tiffany-sized price tag. Long hours, distant locations, and feast-or-famine freelance employment are not very well suited to a balanced family life.
Marriages in Tinsel Town don't last long, and you have lots of Facebook friends all pretending that life is grand when you know that they are actually bitter and miserable.
Twelve years ago, on a crazy whim, we managed to scrape together a little money and we purchased a little house in France. It was meant to be our escape plan after the kids had left the nest. We rent it out, but unfortunately we rarely get to visit it ourselves. It turns out that France is a long way from Los Angeles (5,763 miles). Who knew?
Okay, now we are back to the present and my mid-life crisis. Perhaps men have middle-age crises for a reason. It's an annoying voice inside shouting, "Hey dummy, you don't have forever so don't screw this up."
The other day I started asking myself why I still live in southern California. Film has fled the state, the cost of living is ridiculously high, taxes some of the highest in the country, commuting is a nightmare, public education is terrible, and private schools are obscenely expensive.
The only real reason I could come up with was the weather. And sure, the beaches are nice but we never really go to them because parking is a hassle.
I find myself trying to recreate the experience of living in France while I'm in LA. But it doesn't matter how much lavender and wine and sunflowers you surround yourself with, it never satisfies the longing for history, old stone walls, thousand year old churches and perched villages with winding cobbled roads.
And American Croissants are not the same. No matter how you dress it, LA is just not France.
But more than risk, it will mean taking a leap of faith that wherever we are, we can have a better life as long as we are together.
"Show me the plan."