P. Craig James

I was born at the Hospital of the Good Samaritan an RH baby. My mothers blood was killing me. I had a blood transfusion. I survived - When I was a toddler, a horse “almost” kicked me in the head. My father swears he saw the “hoof pass through my head.” I survived - A little later a fell off the docks at the harbor. I remember sinking to the bottom and watching the surface get farther and farther away. It was peaceful. Someone jumped in and pulled me out. I survived - Not long after, I discovered singing, comedy and acting. I found my dream. I loved to entertain. It lit up my soul. I started to excel in band, drama, glee-club, etc. I was happy. I began to excel in sports and in my social environment. Not long after I transferred to Catholic school. Almost everything was taken away. I survived - barely ... I kept doing plays and making super 8 movies. Next was video. I still had my loves. I then went to Bible College. I survived - I moved to Alaska after dropping out. I lived in the wilderness. It was life changing. I came back to LA and started acting again. I started to thrive. Soon, responsibilities took over. Expectations, pressure, etc., forced me into a “real job.” Work, work, work. Jobs, jobs, jobs. Acted my way through all of them. I hit a bottom after several years. I survived - I began to sing again. I started to feed the Homeless. It saved my life ... again. Not long after, same old same old. I acted my way through my bachelor’s. I acted my way through grad school. I acted my way through all the jobs. I became a successful teacher. All great teachers are actors. I became a successful administrator. Another acting gig. I was living the “American Dream.” I was miserable. Three and a half years ago, I was struck down by a botched surgery. Nerve damage and pain de-constructed me. Almost two years ago the doctors, after a long struggle, insisted I stop working. Lawyers and pain became my masters. The insurance companies won. I’ve lost almost everything. I was still serving the homeless. I found myself on my deathbed twice. February was a close one. My true friends and family saved me again. I survived - I’m here now. I am a survivor. I am going to act again. I am going to continue to advocate for the oppressed. I am going to dance the dance with joy. I am writing. I will direct. I will live my dreams and love what I do. My song is thankful. If you want to dance with me, we’re on the road.