Block 615: February 26, 2015


It’s only 10am and it’s already been a day! I love it when a crisis happens right when you walk into the front door…

Date: February 26, 2015

Crane: 615

Days Spent on Project: 737

Location: NW Portland, OR

Person I would have sent it to: Continuing on with that ill-fated theater piece…

Angie K.

When I was fired, my replacement actually showed up within hours of me having left the building. I gather they staggered her arrival in case I made a scene.

She’s ultimately someone I know (and had drinks with one night at a party) through a friend who works at a shop that caters to theater costumes. I don’t know what she was told about me or the situation she was stepping into, but there you have proof… in New York, you are most certainly easily disposable and replaceable within minutes. I know she was lined up to come in before they had fired me, in fact.

Oh well.

The assistant I had hired to help on the show stayed with the production. The General Manager told her he wouldn’t pay her for any of the work she had been doing at that point unless she stayed on (maybe not so legal…). A few months passed before I could speak to her.

She told me I dodged a small bullet. The Associate who replaced me ended up buying lots of the show’s costumes on her own personal card as the company ran out of money at one point.

Again, I tell myself it was for the best.

Music I listened to while sewing: I went back to Madonna. She’s like comfort food for my soul these days. I’m not sure she’d appreciate that or not.

Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: I can only tell myself that everything I do and encounter and experience is ultimately something that’s going to shape me and direct me towards my future.

I can only tell myself that I am only 35 and I have a lot to learn and experience still, so I should embrace everything that’s happening now as a part of the journey and not the destination.

I am only 35 and this is not my destination.

I am not yet at my destination.

This doesn’t have to be my destination.

When I was living in New York, I always knew that each project and production was another line on my resume. I was meeting people. I was working with people. I was trying to network. I was doing work. In the end, however foolish or misguided or naive it was, I was always working towards the idea and goal that I was a costume designer and I was working in theater in New York as a designer and an assistant designer and an associate designer. Yeah, it was a lot of work and it didn’t pay and it was stressful, but it was the path I chose to be on and I was hopefully working towards a career in that and I was operating on the deluding dream that opportunity could actually be around the corner… because, hey, New York is sometimes like that. (And other times it’s not.)

Now that I’m in Portland, I don’t know what I’m working towards. I open a new show each month. Those shows close. They do and do not sell well. People do and do not see them. There is no feedback. There is no sense of accomplishment; there’s a sense that there’s another one around the corner. Just get the work done.

I go home and I sew a crane. I try to get to the gym at night. I walk my dog. I go to sleep. I spend my weekends at work in rehearsal or doing paperwork that other people in other positions that don’t exist anymore would normally do. I go home.

What am I working towards here? Other than just getting the work done?

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