Well hello again, 4am.
I'm back, but this time with much less insight and with just as much anxiety. Tonight I woke up with thoughts of "press seats" and "box office holds," with thoughts of opening night will-call and building general admission dress rehearsal events, and so many other daunting/stressful/all-consuming work-related tasks. I just can't tell you how much I hate my job. I can't. I've never been so depressed before over a job. I feel so helpless, so unsupported and alone there. I am constantly overworked, underpaid, under-appreciated, and undermined. I am working with tools that are so outdated that I'm not able to complete basic daily tasks without spending between one and five hours completing them, and not a single staff member other than my associate will acknowledge how hard she and I are working to get around it to keep this horrid company afloat.
But what depresses me most is that I don't know where to turn from here. I do not see myself working in any other administrative arts position, ever again, ever. I no longer wish I worked in production. I have doubts about development/fundraising, and I despise marketing. Obviously finance is not my favorite, if only for the fact that I'm not the most mathematically inclined. Obviously I hate everything there is to hate about working in a box office. I don't even think I could see myself down the line as an artistic director or managing director or any other fancy-pants title within a theatre company. It's all been ruined for me by working at these greedy, selfish, self-serving, self-important, pompous, disorganized messes of theatre companies for the past two years. The only theater I've loved working for doesn't have a place for me anymore, and I'm almost glad because I don't think I could bear for another one to be ruined for me. You could also say that what depresses me most is that "theatre" no longer makes me happy. I have to fight very hard to keep my passion for it alive, and I never once in a million years imagined that I would have to do that. I can barely bring myself to see a performance anymore without feeling some kind of anger, sadness, or remorse. Even at happy, wonderful musicals.
Maybe that's why some people pursue careers that are not-so-fulfilling, and devote their free time to their passions--because trying to make your passion into your career can ruin your passion forever. Or maybe I just haven't found the right passion yet. I never felt the way that other people in my class felt about theatre. I did not grow up knowing from age 6 that I wanted to be a performer. At age 6, I wanted to be a Dalmation. I never dreamed of going to New York and "trying to make it." I dreamed of being happy, with a husband and a house by the ocean someday, and that maybe acting would be "fun" until I found that. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to "be" when I grew up, but to some people I know, doing theatre is all they have ever thought about and ever will think about--and those people will be successful and famous some day, and they will be happy as fuck doing all of the things that I am hating right now.
If you asked me what my dream is now, I'd tell you that I want to be a painter--and I suppose I already am. I'm not a famous painter, and I've only ever sold 3 or 4 paintings, but it's what I love. It's what I think about every day. And when I was 6, while I was dreaming of being a Dalmation and everyone else I know was dreaming of being an actor/director/playwright/whatever, I made an award for myself to let everyone else know that I was "A Star at Drawing." I loved it, and it made me happy. But a few years later (not very many years later, because I was still super young when I had this realization) I thought "I'm not good enough to be an animator or a painter or anything like that. And how will studying that get me a job some day?" It's sad that anyone should ever feel like they need to dismiss the things they love because they wrongly think that they are not "good enough," or that what they love is not "useful" to anyone else.
But if I could have my way, I would wake up early every day and paint. I'd paint for 3 or 4 hours, take a break to make my lunch, go for a walk with my (future) dog(s), watch an episode of some terrible TV show, and then paint for 4 more hours until my eyes crossed. I'd eat dinner with my significant other, fall asleep spooning, and do it all over again the next day. That's my perfect life. That's all I want. But I don't know how to achieve it and still support myself.
I'm still kicking myself for not taking that Post-Baccalaureate at the SMFA. I still regret it to this day. I know that I would be thousands more dollars in debt than I am now, and I don't even care. I just don't. I just want time in the studio to find myself and my style, and I want support from teaching artists and professionals to figure out how to do this for a living. Right now I'm trying to do all of that on my own while working a full-time job that I hate more than anything, and I'm trying to perform basic life-functions like cooking dinner and doing laundry on the side. It's a marvel that I ever have time to sleep. And when I do have time to sleep, I am awake thinking about how much I am going to hate the next day's work and how hopeless and miserable it makes me feel. It's a terrible loop, and I am not painting (certainly not every day, let alone every week).
I almost wish they'd fire me so that I could sleep again under the solace of unemployment. Then I might actually have the time to figure all of these things out, to rest, and to get myself back to normal again. I know that the grass is always greener, and that I might not like that if it actually happened, but it's my secret wish.
But what depresses me most is that I don't know where to turn from here. I do not see myself working in any other administrative arts position, ever again, ever. I no longer wish I worked in production. I have doubts about development/fundraising, and I despise marketing. Obviously finance is not my favorite, if only for the fact that I'm not the most mathematically inclined. Obviously I hate everything there is to hate about working in a box office. I don't even think I could see myself down the line as an artistic director or managing director or any other fancy-pants title within a theatre company. It's all been ruined for me by working at these greedy, selfish, self-serving, self-important, pompous, disorganized messes of theatre companies for the past two years. The only theater I've loved working for doesn't have a place for me anymore, and I'm almost glad because I don't think I could bear for another one to be ruined for me. You could also say that what depresses me most is that "theatre" no longer makes me happy. I have to fight very hard to keep my passion for it alive, and I never once in a million years imagined that I would have to do that. I can barely bring myself to see a performance anymore without feeling some kind of anger, sadness, or remorse. Even at happy, wonderful musicals.
Maybe that's why some people pursue careers that are not-so-fulfilling, and devote their free time to their passions--because trying to make your passion into your career can ruin your passion forever. Or maybe I just haven't found the right passion yet. I never felt the way that other people in my class felt about theatre. I did not grow up knowing from age 6 that I wanted to be a performer. At age 6, I wanted to be a Dalmation. I never dreamed of going to New York and "trying to make it." I dreamed of being happy, with a husband and a house by the ocean someday, and that maybe acting would be "fun" until I found that. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to "be" when I grew up, but to some people I know, doing theatre is all they have ever thought about and ever will think about--and those people will be successful and famous some day, and they will be happy as fuck doing all of the things that I am hating right now.
If you asked me what my dream is now, I'd tell you that I want to be a painter--and I suppose I already am. I'm not a famous painter, and I've only ever sold 3 or 4 paintings, but it's what I love. It's what I think about every day. And when I was 6, while I was dreaming of being a Dalmation and everyone else I know was dreaming of being an actor/director/playwright/whatever, I made an award for myself to let everyone else know that I was "A Star at Drawing." I loved it, and it made me happy. But a few years later (not very many years later, because I was still super young when I had this realization) I thought "I'm not good enough to be an animator or a painter or anything like that. And how will studying that get me a job some day?" It's sad that anyone should ever feel like they need to dismiss the things they love because they wrongly think that they are not "good enough," or that what they love is not "useful" to anyone else.
But if I could have my way, I would wake up early every day and paint. I'd paint for 3 or 4 hours, take a break to make my lunch, go for a walk with my (future) dog(s), watch an episode of some terrible TV show, and then paint for 4 more hours until my eyes crossed. I'd eat dinner with my significant other, fall asleep spooning, and do it all over again the next day. That's my perfect life. That's all I want. But I don't know how to achieve it and still support myself.
I'm still kicking myself for not taking that Post-Baccalaureate at the SMFA. I still regret it to this day. I know that I would be thousands more dollars in debt than I am now, and I don't even care. I just don't. I just want time in the studio to find myself and my style, and I want support from teaching artists and professionals to figure out how to do this for a living. Right now I'm trying to do all of that on my own while working a full-time job that I hate more than anything, and I'm trying to perform basic life-functions like cooking dinner and doing laundry on the side. It's a marvel that I ever have time to sleep. And when I do have time to sleep, I am awake thinking about how much I am going to hate the next day's work and how hopeless and miserable it makes me feel. It's a terrible loop, and I am not painting (certainly not every day, let alone every week).
I almost wish they'd fire me so that I could sleep again under the solace of unemployment. Then I might actually have the time to figure all of these things out, to rest, and to get myself back to normal again. I know that the grass is always greener, and that I might not like that if it actually happened, but it's my secret wish.