Today we’d like to introduce you to Louie Love
Hi Louie, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
It all started with music. After Saturday morning cartoons, my dad would cook breakfast while my mom played her favorite albums. The four of us—“Mama, Papa, Sister, and me”—would listen, sing and clean the house. By afternoon, the place was spotless, and it was my dad’s turn at the record player. My sister and I would sit in his lap while he practiced his set list or studied a new song for the band he started with a couple of fellow soldiers. He encouraged us to sing along as mom made dinner. After that, it was movie night.
Growing up in Germany, my parents instilled in us a love of art in its many forms. By 12, I’d visited museums across Europe and experienced artists like Mozart and Da Vinci. These experiences shaped my perspective, becoming the cornerstones of my journey to this day. I’ve learned that evolving my perspective is crucial to staying on this path.
One art form that captivated me was comic books. Spider-Man (my favorite), Superman, X-Men—even Archie. I was an avid collector, and I’d mimic the styles of artists like Jim Lee and Joe Madureira to learn how to draw. After my dad left the military, we moved to Georgia, where I finished high school at North Clayton in College Park. There, I joined a four-man a cappella group called “FOREPHRONT” and met Vandon Gibbs, now my close friend and film-producing partner. Titan Games and Comics, just a few blocks from home, became my sanctuary, along with Oxford Books and Comics on Piedmont Avenue, which I visited at least twice a month.
Next to Oxford was Nick Conti’s Professional Actors Studio. Every time I went to buy comics, I’d linger outside the studio, intrigued but hesitant to go inside. It wasn’t until years later, after joining the Air Force and returning home for a visit, that I finally stepped through the door. Even then, I had to drag my sister along for support. We audited a class, and as I watched the scenes unfold, I took notes. To my surprise, when Nick offered his feedback, it mirrored my observations. It was one of those lightbulb moments I realized: “I could do this job.”
From there, it was years of study—acting books, classes, and communal learning.
I was playing multiple characters in a community theater production of “It’s a Wonderful Life”, directed by my mentor, Michael H. Cole, two fellow actors, Nic Starr and Keith Franklin, watched me backstage. After the show, they approached me, impressed by how I stayed committed to the character even when delivering lines offstage. They asked if I’d be interested in exploring August Wilson’s work. I eagerly agreed. Since then, I’ve performed in over 20 productions, tackled 8 of Wilson’s 10 plays, and gained another mentor in Nic Starr.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
in short… absolutely not. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if the road had been smooth. Every setback has been a lesson or an opportunity to discover a new perspective on how to approach the process. Financial obstacles taught me to manage my money, limit my credit, and invest wisely.
Losing my condo to a repeatedly bursting pipe—living in ankle-deep water for three months until black mold crept in—taught me where my rock bottom is. I learned that family support, if you’re lucky enough to have it, is tantamount to heaven, and to a corporation, everything is just business.
At one point, I found myself in what seemed like a healthy relationship, but I had become content to the point of complacency. For three years, I stopped creating. It took yet another pipe burst for me to realize that I wasn’t answering my calling. In the work-life balance equation, too much life can be unhealthy. Loving each other until the world disappears is beautiful, but if you don’t look up, you might find yourselves stagnant and drowning in ankle-deep waters.
One of my favorite perspective shifts happened soon after. I moved back to my parents’ couch, my relationship had ended, and we said goodbye with tears in our eyes. I decided to return to acting and found an audition for an indie film. Cautiously, I walked back into my career.
I signed in, fourth in line to read. Looking around the room, I noticed I was older, a little heavier, and definitely more nervous than the other actors. The scene: a first-round draft pick football star just finished his first press interview, thanking everyone except his boyfriend, and now facing the consequences. As I sat there running my lines, the thin office walls betrayed the actors inside: introductory mumbling, a moment of silence, then, “SO I GUESS I DON’T MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!” The argument escalates, followed by appreciative exiting muffles, and the call for the next actor.
Now, I’ve always believed that gay characters should be played by gay actors (which I’m not), so I knew I wouldn’t take the part even if I nailed the audition. So as the actors introductory mumbles began, I shifted my perspective and gave myself a new goal that had nothing to do with getting the part. “SO I GUESS…” the actor’s lines echoed through the walls, I told myself, “Whatever I do, I’m not yelling.”
These were two people who loved each other. For the last few years, I knew what that felt like. My character wasn’t angry—he was hurt. For the past few weeks, I’d been living that hurt myself. So after the final actor’s exit, I walked in, delivered my introductory mumbling and moment of silence, and showed them what it felt like. When the scene was over, the room was silent. Finally, the woman running the auditions broke the silence, saying, “Aww, that was so loving.” In that moment, I knew I was back. (Thanks, Nicole.)
There will always be the part you don’t get, the line you drop, or the project that doesn’t pan out. But faith is like a muscle—if you want it to get stronger, you’ve got to lift some weight.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
What do I do? Too much and not enough. I’m a creative producer, writer, sometime director, and a former singer who’s rediscovering his voice. I studied game design in college, but as my email signature says, “I’d (always) rather be Acting.” For all I’ve done and hope to accomplish, I will always be most proud of the constant source of peace and joy that is my family.
Shifting perspectives has been a theme in this article, and while it’s not the only tool in my toolkit, it’s one of the most powerful. It allows me to weave a colorful tapestry of options as a creative. For example, in my theater troupe, Starr Enterprises: Etheridge Arts Ensemble, our last two plays were produced simultaneously—one in the matinee and another in the evening. I played two wildly different characters: Floyd in Seven Guitars, a passionate, hot-headed musician, and Mister in King Hedley II, a meek, quintessential sidekick. After seeing both performances, my mentor Michael Cole asked, “Is there any role you can’t play?”
I’m also proud of the stories I’m in the middle of writing, each from a unique perspective—whether it’s a young woman grappling with the question of abortion, an immigrant seeking asylum, or a pair of lifelong friends at a deadly crossroads in the mid-1800s. My ability to see through others’ eyes, or shift my own perspective, opens up countless doors of opportunity. However, it can also be a double-edged sword, as it sometimes makes it hard for people to figure out where I fit.
Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
Though the temptation for a good ol’ semantic argument is strong, I’ll resist. I’ll also try not to gild the lily of the theme here. I’ll just say this: it’s all been good luck—every last bit of it.
If I hadn’t been gaslit into being held back a grade, if the group hadn’t broken up, if I wasn’t rejected at that “Pop Stars 2” audition, if I hadn’t missed a romantic chance with my coworker, if the same pipe hadn’t burst over and over… if I hadn’t let my girlfriend go. If, if, if. Every single setback, every single one of those “bad luck” moments, played a role in me writing this article right now.
Because the flip side of those moments was the good luck I’ve been blessed with. A relatively healthy, close family, three talented and supportive mentors in Michael H. Cole, Nic Starr, and Jayson Warner Smith, a creative partner and friend in Vandon Gibbs, and an acting resume that some people can only dream of. And I know there are folks out there hoping to be as lucky as I’ve been. So I’ll always remember, even in the mess of it all, to be grateful—for all of it. Even the “bad luck.”
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3425755/?ref_=ext_shr_Ink
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the2ndlove?
- Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/the2ndlove
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCXNaXrGFze8JjaLNIVJGAKQ
- Other: https://youtu.be/E-yXKBBUz2Y?
Image Credits
Margot Desannoy
Nic Starr
Vandon Gibbs
Amber Germain
Princess Starr
