Job Opportunites and a Happy Ending
I had a job interview today for a position that had already been filled which was strange. It was set up through Elaine, who I work with while interning at the Elizabeth Foundation. After she learned I had lost my job at the Princeton Review she made it her personal crusade to do find me some kind of employment. She is "dear friends" with the boyfriend of the man I was interviewing with today. In the initial email she sent to her friend hoping to get me an interview, she listed among my many attributes that I was smart and capable, and that I had "great hair." I don't know what to do with the last bit. I considered putting it in my resume, but Scott thought it was more cover letter material.
The job would have been a personal/administrative assistant for this older gentleman. He's a retired lawyer who is involved with a ton of different cultural and arts councils. From what I gathered off of the internet, and what he said today, a lot of it has to do with property rights of cultural and artistic commodities. While it's never been what I consider to be the most interesting side of the arts, had it been offered, I would have gladly accepted the position. Artists should have some knowledge of such dealings, I suppose. But, as I said before, the position had been filled. It wasn't a total loss, though. Obviously won over by my hair, (which, come to think of it, had a lovely just-out-of-the-shower tousled look to it seeing as I had just come out of the rain and had dried it with some paper towels from the bathroom) he promised to pass my name along to somebody who is the president of a corporation of which he is a board member. Sarah, hoping I was going to come out of the thing with a job, was a little upset, but I think there could be good news still to come.
After the interview, seeing as I was in Midtown and on the East Side, I decided to go check out some of the 57 Street galleries. I went to the Fuller Building first, but there was nothing interesting to be found there. There are a bunch of galleries there, but I am never terribly impressed by what it has to offer. Little John can be okay, but it's usually pretty boring too. After the Fuller, I went to the building which houses Forum Gallery and Mary Boone. I am sure it has a special name too, I am just not familiar with it. Forum, which can be utterly lame, had a pretty cool exhibition of miniatures on the forth floor. Little fake rooms. You can probably find some images online. I was surprised by how much I liked it.
Upstairs, Forum had a bunch of photo-realistic paintings of suburban locales. Had I not seen what was downstairs, it would have probably been one of the better shows I had seen there in a while, but since I did see what was downstairs I have to say the paintings were pretty uninteresting. If I thought about them more I could probably make them more interesting, but (you know me) I like things you don't have to think about. It seems like every time I am in galleries in that area I run into Michael A. He was a year ahead of me at NYAA and was among the group of us given a free trip to France to paint at the Forbes family chateau in Balleroy, Normandy over the summer in 2003. Coincidentally, he also worked for Barbara doing art handling work for a while until he (as Barbara puts it), "decided it wasn't the life for him." Since then he has been doing part-time art handling for different galleries in the 57 Street/Fifth Avenue area. Which is why I always see him, and why he was at Forum today.
Anyhow he's apparently found a full-time position at a gallery in the Fuller Building, and basically told me I would get his job at Forum if I applied for it. He also gave me the heads-up on an artist's assistant type thing he does about once a month that he will have to stop once he starts his new job. As a former student of NYAA, I don't know how much I like the idea of working at a figurative gallery. It seems so obvious. But I'll take it. If only for the time being.
There was an email from Elaine waiting for me when I got home. It was in regards to another friend of hers. This one, I assume, is completely ignorant of my hair status. I think he is in charge of construction at the Guggenheim Museum. He might be looking for some temporary work. I don't know how I feel about doing construction, but it is at a famous museum. And I imagine it too could be good for me. So it's been a pretty active job day.
Sarah just came in with a paycheck in my name for $450. I am officially a professional writer. Sarah is too, though not officially.
By the way, seeing as Scott just did a long entry devoted to the anniversary of his proposal to Amanda, it bares mentioning that today is not only famous for being the anniversary of the Japs preemptive strike on our Pacific Naval Fleet in 1941. It's also famous for something that happened much more recently.
On December 7, 1996, while enjoying a cup of coffee on at Cup A' Joe on Tate Street in Greensboro, NC I was approached by a young girl called Alexis. She recognized me as somebody who went to her school. She invited me to sit with her and a friend at their table while they waited for a boy she met at the Nature Store at Four Seasons Mall. His name was Bo. Or possibly Beau. Hours later, he did eventually show up. As did Ben H. Somebody I knew I knew from school and, coincidentally, another of Alexis' crushes. While that triangle worked it's way out, I had spent much of the night writing fake poetry with Alexis' friend, a certain Ms. S. Livengood.
For the longest time afterward I could recite for her how we had spent each of our days afterward. That was a Saturday. My dad's office Christmas Party was that night. I had spent that morning walking around Greensboro to show my support for the, I don't know, fight (?) against AIDS/HIV. I wasn't alone. There were other people there too. She walked me to my car that night, and I remember the windshield was very frosty. We sat in the car for a while. We didn't kiss for another couple of weeks. I was pretty inexperienced in the ways of the woman, and missed what I realized later were some pretty obvious signals. We did eventually kiss, though.
The job would have been a personal/administrative assistant for this older gentleman. He's a retired lawyer who is involved with a ton of different cultural and arts councils. From what I gathered off of the internet, and what he said today, a lot of it has to do with property rights of cultural and artistic commodities. While it's never been what I consider to be the most interesting side of the arts, had it been offered, I would have gladly accepted the position. Artists should have some knowledge of such dealings, I suppose. But, as I said before, the position had been filled. It wasn't a total loss, though. Obviously won over by my hair, (which, come to think of it, had a lovely just-out-of-the-shower tousled look to it seeing as I had just come out of the rain and had dried it with some paper towels from the bathroom) he promised to pass my name along to somebody who is the president of a corporation of which he is a board member. Sarah, hoping I was going to come out of the thing with a job, was a little upset, but I think there could be good news still to come.
After the interview, seeing as I was in Midtown and on the East Side, I decided to go check out some of the 57 Street galleries. I went to the Fuller Building first, but there was nothing interesting to be found there. There are a bunch of galleries there, but I am never terribly impressed by what it has to offer. Little John can be okay, but it's usually pretty boring too. After the Fuller, I went to the building which houses Forum Gallery and Mary Boone. I am sure it has a special name too, I am just not familiar with it. Forum, which can be utterly lame, had a pretty cool exhibition of miniatures on the forth floor. Little fake rooms. You can probably find some images online. I was surprised by how much I liked it.
Upstairs, Forum had a bunch of photo-realistic paintings of suburban locales. Had I not seen what was downstairs, it would have probably been one of the better shows I had seen there in a while, but since I did see what was downstairs I have to say the paintings were pretty uninteresting. If I thought about them more I could probably make them more interesting, but (you know me) I like things you don't have to think about. It seems like every time I am in galleries in that area I run into Michael A. He was a year ahead of me at NYAA and was among the group of us given a free trip to France to paint at the Forbes family chateau in Balleroy, Normandy over the summer in 2003. Coincidentally, he also worked for Barbara doing art handling work for a while until he (as Barbara puts it), "decided it wasn't the life for him." Since then he has been doing part-time art handling for different galleries in the 57 Street/Fifth Avenue area. Which is why I always see him, and why he was at Forum today.
Anyhow he's apparently found a full-time position at a gallery in the Fuller Building, and basically told me I would get his job at Forum if I applied for it. He also gave me the heads-up on an artist's assistant type thing he does about once a month that he will have to stop once he starts his new job. As a former student of NYAA, I don't know how much I like the idea of working at a figurative gallery. It seems so obvious. But I'll take it. If only for the time being.
There was an email from Elaine waiting for me when I got home. It was in regards to another friend of hers. This one, I assume, is completely ignorant of my hair status. I think he is in charge of construction at the Guggenheim Museum. He might be looking for some temporary work. I don't know how I feel about doing construction, but it is at a famous museum. And I imagine it too could be good for me. So it's been a pretty active job day.
Sarah just came in with a paycheck in my name for $450. I am officially a professional writer. Sarah is too, though not officially.
By the way, seeing as Scott just did a long entry devoted to the anniversary of his proposal to Amanda, it bares mentioning that today is not only famous for being the anniversary of the Japs preemptive strike on our Pacific Naval Fleet in 1941. It's also famous for something that happened much more recently.
On December 7, 1996, while enjoying a cup of coffee on at Cup A' Joe on Tate Street in Greensboro, NC I was approached by a young girl called Alexis. She recognized me as somebody who went to her school. She invited me to sit with her and a friend at their table while they waited for a boy she met at the Nature Store at Four Seasons Mall. His name was Bo. Or possibly Beau. Hours later, he did eventually show up. As did Ben H. Somebody I knew I knew from school and, coincidentally, another of Alexis' crushes. While that triangle worked it's way out, I had spent much of the night writing fake poetry with Alexis' friend, a certain Ms. S. Livengood.
For the longest time afterward I could recite for her how we had spent each of our days afterward. That was a Saturday. My dad's office Christmas Party was that night. I had spent that morning walking around Greensboro to show my support for the, I don't know, fight (?) against AIDS/HIV. I wasn't alone. There were other people there too. She walked me to my car that night, and I remember the windshield was very frosty. We sat in the car for a while. We didn't kiss for another couple of weeks. I was pretty inexperienced in the ways of the woman, and missed what I realized later were some pretty obvious signals. We did eventually kiss, though.