
For most of the last year I’ve been parked on one of several couches, editing or mixing sound, creating music, creating or managing websites, writing, editing photos, creating graphics and editing a book. I know I’m missing a job title or two, but that’s been the bulk of it. Mostly I’ve been in Vancouver, but about two months of that has been in Manhattan. My work days normally last from between 8 & 10 straight through midnight or 2am. Sometimes I will take the day off and do almost no work at all on Saturday, but usually I keep working straight through the weekends. It has not been easy. Honestly, my lower back is kinda trashed and I have to plan my diet pretty carefully so I don’t overflow the couch. Thomas, the cat, has been my closest friend. My wife is on the other side of the continent when she’s not flying and if I’m very lucky I see her for an average of about three days out of thirty. When I do see her, she has to share me with work.
That said, I still brag to anyone who will listen that I have the greatest job. It’s pretty rare that anyone can argue. Most people hate their jobs– if not to the point of loathing then at least they will go on at length about the job they’d rather have.
Almost all of my report cards, from elementary school right through grade 10 or 11, detail mysterious founts of potential I evidently hinted at, if ONLY I would apply myself. All the things I was made to feel guilty about– the sketching and the music and the endless hours wasted reading and writing and messing about with computers– all that creative thinking that wasn’t “on task”… well, now it’s paying the rent, so screw you, system! I play with my favourite toys ALL DAY LONG.
Back on the other hand, I spend the great majority of my waking hours thinking about work. I was in New York for a month and only used my camera on one day. My world is pretty small. I rarely even think of updating my own blog. I believe I have a regular readership of two where it used to be about a hundred. The high point of the week is Friday, when as often as not I will meet Jayme and Matt et al for a badly needed pint. And human conversation. There are days when the only words I speak out loud are to the cat. It’s not so bad. He does chat back and his sense of humour keeps up with mine.
All this is focused toward the move to New York, to a wife and a waiting job, and, in the not to distant future, the beginning of real work on our first feature. The more I find out about the film industry, the more I know I can do it. By far, the greatest advantage most of those industry folk have over me is their connection to other industry folk. The way I figure it, if we can produce a full-length marketable feature on our own, and maybe sell a script or two, meeting those influential industry folk should be a gimme. I’ve already proven to myself several times that I can succeed outside the system, so I really don’t see why this time should be any different. I’m cocky that way.
I live out of suitcases in two different cities. My home base is not my own space. My income strictly covers my cost of living and I spent most of the year away from my wife. It’s not a life I could actually recommend to anyone. Maigen and I were on thin ice and though I feel we’re better now, we’re not home free. I need to get local with her.
You are probably getting the idea. The circumstances are sucky but I love my job. I’m going to make movies for a living. That’s pretty neat for a daydreamer who relentlessly refused to tap his potential.
Filed under: my life, photopost |