Move Over Sun...
Last Sunday afternoon, New Yorkers collectively took the coats off their racks and put them back on their bodies as we go through our day. It's also been a major blessing to those forced to engage in small talk, because it's an easy go to, and every one has an opinion on it. Me? I felt a little let down by the mild winter this year, so this last gasp has been a nice excuse to get my peacoat out when I join the throngs heading into Mid-town in the mornings.
For a little more than two weeks now I have been getting up and heading into an office job in the heart of New York City. It meant giving my notice to The New York Transit Museum, which was a very difficult thing to contemplate, and it also meant giving up some of my freedom to head into auditions at a whim, and to consider myself a "gypsy". The decision made for a fidgety Easter weekend as I mulled over their offer of a 40 hour work week and their added benefit of working with my audition schedule. What was their to ponder?
I worried that this job would keep me from auditioning, keep me from creating. I feared that the stress of the day would keep me from pursuing other goals in the evening as I'd prefer to just zone out and relax. I worried that this money would make me complacent, and that before I knew it I would be doing a job I could easily be doing in Austin, near my family, for less rent. I did, and do not want this to happen.
I took a lot of risks coming here. I left a job, my family, left my dog in the care of that family, and upon getting here joined the union, which has taken me out of the running for all of the theatre I was doing in Austin. I subsequently lost a close friendship (though one could argue that was due to more complex issues and was likely to come to a head at some point anyway) and have put myself through the experience of and culture shock of New York City, re-establishing a social, work and creative life. I could not let those things have happened for nothing, nor was I ready to give up this soon in the game. Is that what taking this job was, in effect?
The other side of that argument was that this job offering was a blessing that would provide a steady income allowing me to remain here longer and pursue my goals at a workplace that feels like home, with people who had, in just a few days, shown an overwhelming amount of appreciation, agreed to work with my auditions, and had taken enough time to truly consider this fact of my life that I didn't feel like they would be shocked when an audition came up. Plus, because I'd been up front with them from the beginning I could be both loyal to the company, and to my other pursuits. If it truly doesn't work out? As long as I conduct myself professionally, I lose nothing, and gain some funds and some contacts. How could this be a bad thing?
After three days of careful consideration, and consulting with trusted friends, I took the position. And the strange thing is that now, having less free time, I am doing more creatively than I was before. Why? Because that time has suddenly become more valuable, and so I cherish it more and manage it much better.
I've continued working on my writing project, have looked into a couple of night classes about the acting business, and have auditioned for two Broadway shows.
In this spirit, I give you a clip from a very flawed, but very pleasurable film: Inside Daisy Clover, which begins at 2:09.
For a little more than two weeks now I have been getting up and heading into an office job in the heart of New York City. It meant giving my notice to The New York Transit Museum, which was a very difficult thing to contemplate, and it also meant giving up some of my freedom to head into auditions at a whim, and to consider myself a "gypsy". The decision made for a fidgety Easter weekend as I mulled over their offer of a 40 hour work week and their added benefit of working with my audition schedule. What was their to ponder?
I worried that this job would keep me from auditioning, keep me from creating. I feared that the stress of the day would keep me from pursuing other goals in the evening as I'd prefer to just zone out and relax. I worried that this money would make me complacent, and that before I knew it I would be doing a job I could easily be doing in Austin, near my family, for less rent. I did, and do not want this to happen.
I took a lot of risks coming here. I left a job, my family, left my dog in the care of that family, and upon getting here joined the union, which has taken me out of the running for all of the theatre I was doing in Austin. I subsequently lost a close friendship (though one could argue that was due to more complex issues and was likely to come to a head at some point anyway) and have put myself through the experience of and culture shock of New York City, re-establishing a social, work and creative life. I could not let those things have happened for nothing, nor was I ready to give up this soon in the game. Is that what taking this job was, in effect?
The other side of that argument was that this job offering was a blessing that would provide a steady income allowing me to remain here longer and pursue my goals at a workplace that feels like home, with people who had, in just a few days, shown an overwhelming amount of appreciation, agreed to work with my auditions, and had taken enough time to truly consider this fact of my life that I didn't feel like they would be shocked when an audition came up. Plus, because I'd been up front with them from the beginning I could be both loyal to the company, and to my other pursuits. If it truly doesn't work out? As long as I conduct myself professionally, I lose nothing, and gain some funds and some contacts. How could this be a bad thing?
After three days of careful consideration, and consulting with trusted friends, I took the position. And the strange thing is that now, having less free time, I am doing more creatively than I was before. Why? Because that time has suddenly become more valuable, and so I cherish it more and manage it much better.
I've continued working on my writing project, have looked into a couple of night classes about the acting business, and have auditioned for two Broadway shows.
In this spirit, I give you a clip from a very flawed, but very pleasurable film: Inside Daisy Clover, which begins at 2:09.