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Simon Gissler’s Stories, Lessons & Insights

Simon Gissler shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Hi Simon, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: Are you walking a path—or wandering?
I think there was a time when I would have confidently said “walking a path”, but right now I’m not as sure. But even as I write that, I feel that even if I am wandering, I don’t think it’s aimless wandering.

When I moved to LA, I did it to pursue acting, and I felt like I had a very clear and actionable battle plan for how to make that happen. Compared to how I think now it felt like a very traditional plan. It involved taking certain classes, it involved trying to nab agents by a certain time, getting headshots and reels that looked a certain way. Later when I formed a small live comedy troupe with my friends I felt like “Okay, this is THE path now- we’re gonna do live shows, and then we’re gonna turn those into something like a TV show, and we’ll sell it and that’ll be our way in!” And then that didn’t happen in exactly the way I’d envisioned. After a couple years of performing together the team drifted apart, and suddenly it felt like the path I’d been walking drifted with it.

There was no clear “next goal” for a bit there. But I’m stubborn and would rather die than be called a quitter. So instead of pursuing one main thing I started casting my net a little wider, making art in ways that part of me kind of always wanted, but never felt like I had the time or connections to lean into. Instead of doing as many traditional auditions, I hit up some talented friends and we started making more of our own films. In the wake of feeling bummed about not being part of a comedy troupe, I began submitting myself for opportunities to perform as a solo act. I tried to make a lot of new friends at screening events and festivals and generally just sowed seeds of opportunity without clearly knowing what kind of thing they’d bloom into. I promised myself I’d keep putting myself out there, and used that as a motivator on nights when I didn’t feel like leaving the house. So instead of walking a path, I guess you could say lately I’ve been wandering, but in some hard to define way it feels like that wandering still has energy and direction to it. It’s just one that’s zigzagging in ways I wouldn’t have predicted a few years ago. I still have a heading, and it’s to make dope stuff with good people.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name’s Simon Gissler! I’m an actor, filmmaker, and writer. I usually try to cap my list there, but it feels dishonest to not also say I’m a character comedian, producer, children’s theatre instructor and I guess, as of late, live host. I’m originally from Nebraska, and for the past half decade and change I’ve been in Los Angeles where I make “weird stuff with heart”.

In my time in LA I’ve made so many incredibly talented friends by performing in small indie spaces, and now I’m in a really fun era where I’m seeing those friendships blossom into the foundations of a strong and ambitious creative community. When I decide I wanna make a film or a live show, I feel like I have a rich pool of artists to hit up that are excited to make it happen AND who I also just genuinely love spending time with. That’s priceless.

Recently we put up an awesome winter themed variety show where we turned a backyard shed into a beautifully lit stage to showcase a ton of crazy talented comedians, dancers, and singers (video link below). Currently I’m writing episodes for a couple web series, navigating post production on a comedy about Gregorian monks, and preparing for a few upcoming short films. I am tired all the time and I have no one to cry to because it’s what I wanted, but now I have to make a lot of it happen myself.

Okay, so here’s a deep one: What did you believe about yourself as a child that you no longer believe?
That I’m not an athlete! I did some of the sports that everyone does as a kid, but somewhere along the way when I got interested in artsy stuff I kind of thought of a person who was really into exercise as being antithetical to that identity. Like, “I don’t like football; I’m into D&D and theater and next to that, the gym sounds boring.” I remember in freshman year of high school being kind of shocked to realize that in springtime the school musical rehearsal and track practice were at the exact same time, so it felt like you literally couldn’t choose to be both kinds of people. You had to lock yourself into one archetype.

Graduating from academia was the shift it took to shake me out of that mindset. In adulthood there’s not really cliques like there were in school (at least not the same kind). I’m a geek *and* a writer *and* an actor *and* I love learning how to use all the different equipment at my local gym. I kind of can’t wait to finish writing this so I can go hit up a trail I’ve been meaning to jog.

Moving halfway across the country came with me making a promise to myself that if I’m willing to do all that to chase a dream, I can’t then cheat myself out of that dream by not taking care of the body that has to get me there. I’m not going to pretend like I’m crazy jacked or anything (far from it). I have so much I’m still learning, and I still struggle in a lot of ways. But I find myself quoting an old professor a lot these days, saying “actors are athletes.” I got a day job to pay the bills, and when I clock out then my time for working on rehearsals and meetings and filming or whatever it is at the time starts. If I’m gonna do two days of work in one day (as it often feels) and bring my best self for it, I need my body to have the strength and stamina to carry me through it. And then if there’s a little time left on the weekend I’ll still play some Magic the Gathering or something with the boys. You can be both kinds of people!

What did suffering teach you that success never could?
“It’ll be okay.” By that I mean, whatever problem you’re having right now is something you’ll heal from. Even if you lose something that feels important, you’ll find another thing. And you have to trust yourself to do that. I don’t mean that the drama in your life doesn’t matter; it probably does, otherwise you wouldn’t be upset about it. But someday you’re going to look back on it and it won’t seem as big a deal. It just won’t. And you’ll be okay.

When I was a kid and I got kicked out of my local boy scout troop because my scoutmaster found a stupid funny story I wrote at camp and thought it was really inappropriate, that felt like the end of the world. But my dad said to me, “Don’t let this be a thing that makes you stop writing.” Time passed, I found a new troop, and wouldn’t you know it? I’m still writing things that are (debatably) funny and stupid and inappropriate.

When I moved to Los Angeles and the girl I got engaged to back home at what was definitely way too young an age said she didn’t want to leave her family behind to come catch up with me after all and also that she had feelings for the buddy who was gonna be our best man, that sure felt like the end of the world. But then a couple months later covid happened and all of our mutual friends back home stopped talking to me and I lost my day job and spent the rest of the year locked down inside on the phone waiting on hold to ask why the heck those super-sized unemployment checks that everyone around me was getting weren’t coming in for me. I had $3 in my bank account at one point that summer, and that REALLY felt like the end of the world. But in the year 2026, I’m okay. I feel like I’m stable (ish) and thriving and, as much as it stank at the time, I feel confident saying that basically none of that stuff matters now.

By the time my most recent end-of-the-world drama rolled around and I found my housing situation in jeopardy, it still felt awful. But time had taught me that even if my future was uncertain, and I didn’t have the answers yet, I’d figure it out. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it takes time, but you always do. You just do. And then it’ll be okay.

So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
Why don’t we just ask some of them? Here’s what they said!

“Moral integrity and originality,” – Jack

“Your family,” – Gabby

“Details! And that’s a good thing- Attention to details,” -Hudson

“I guess, especially leaning towards performance-related values, I’d say what I’ve seen mattering is inviting people in, engaging with imagination and playfulness, being earnest, and finding a spark of warmth in the escape. More broadly, making people feel welcome seems to be a biggie, and supporting people in what they want to do; community, I guess would be the broad term,” – Josh

My friend Josh is the cinematographer, editor, and just overall a chief collaborator and cool guy on a lot of the film projects I’ve been working on lately. People like him, and Hudson (our pianist), and Alex (often assistant director), and so many other crewmates and actors and friends that keep showing up to create things make me feel like we could do just about anything we really set our minds to. When they say they’re down to make something that no one’s going to get rich off of basically just because it’d be awesome, it makes me want to make sure I’m doing everything I can to make it feel worthy of their time and talents. I want them to have material that’s fun to shoot and perform. I want them to feel like their own opinions and input as artists matter. I want them to feel like they’re being taken care of. If making a funny video together feels like a chore, something’s gone horribly wrong.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What are you doing today that won’t pay off for 7–10 years?
Man, I’ve basically had to turn off the part of myself that puts a lot of stock into how many people see my work. Don’t get me wrong, getting a full house on opening night feels great, but sometimes I’ll spend weeks rehearsing an act for a little live show that ends up having only a couple people in the audience. More than once I’ve put so much time and roped so many people into getting a video looking and flowing really nicely just to throw it onto a tiny YouTube channel where it’ll peter off after about a hundred views. I’ve told myself that I have to choose to believe the process itself of making art is meaningful enough that it’s worth doing even if no one sees it.

If there is instant gratification, it’s because it was fun, or because I felt my team grow stronger through practice, or I learned something through the act of creating. And I think it’s that practice, that getting better bit by bit and slowly growing a community of friendships- that maybe doesn’t “pay off” right away, but it is a thing that I think there’s no shortcut for. I don’t expect any individual piece of art that I make these days to make me rich or make me famous or whatever. But I do think of them as experiences that may grow me into a wiser and more confident version of myself that’s worth becoming.

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Person with glasses holding a framed photo, wearing striped shirt and black pants, standing in a dark room.

Camera screen displaying a photo of a person in front of the Hollywood sign.

Four people at a table with a checkered tablecloth, one standing, three seated, in a dark setting.

Young person with short hair looking up, shadows cast on face, dark background with a cross on the wall.

Person with long dark hair wearing a white coat on stage, gesturing with hands, audience in foreground, presentation slide visible.

Person in white coat observing a man in a hospital bed with medical equipment and monitors.

Performer on stage with microphone, wearing hat and patterned pants, in a decorated indoor setting with audience silhouette.

Two men in a room with framed artwork, one standing and gesturing, the other leaning over a table with papers and bottles.

Image Credits
Ashley Karp, Joshua Contreras, Charles Danger, Ethan Gathman, Kayden Meisenheimer, Alex Myrick, Beau Agrawal

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