Well. Today has certainly been a long day, hasn’t it?
Date: October 5, 2015
Days Spent on Project: 958
Location: NW Portland, OR
Person I would have sent it to: TBD
Music I listened to while sewing: I decided to deepen my appreciation for The Chemical Brothers today; I discovered via Spotify that they’ve released a new album this year. I’ve had “Sometimes I Feel So Deserted (The Skream Remix)” on all day. Now I’m wading deeper into the album “Born in the Echoes.”
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: Last night, in my apartment, I couldn’t stop my mind. I ended up drawing and re-drawing a dress until 10:30pm. I got in bed and watched an episode of American Horror Story Coven. Around 11:30, I turned off the lights. I turned them on again at 2am.
And I was awake until almost 5! I think, in the end, I probably got three hours of sleep. Because of that, in spite of that, despite that, I’ve been on a holy rampage during the day. So much to do, so much accomplished, and still so much more to do. We’re in crunch time at the theater, and it’s not just my department. The scene shop is more overworked than we are; in our case, it’s that all our deadlines were missed and we didn’t have any time to pre-plan or get ahead and, in their case, it’s that the show just got too ambitious for the resources, money, and time that was allocated last year.
I finished going through four credit card statements of receipts today. I managed to get one off-site stitcher to commit and got materials to her so she can start working tomorrow. I reached out to two more stitchers in Portland, trying to pressure them to work with us… or not. I got one craftsperson on board today. I managed to buy materials for the shop. I got a few orders in for fabric, millinery supplies, and clothes. I fixed the printer. (I never realized how much I depend on that printer.) I got returns mailed off. I talked to the accounting department and production management about labor and money needs. I got payroll done.
Today was busy.
And, so here I am: again, I’m on my balcony in the Ikea Poang chair that my father bought me in June. There’s a glass of wine nearby. The lights are dimmed, the windows open on the unseasonably warm fall day.
I’m ready for bed. But. First. I want to admit this.
There are moments, increasingly there are moments in my day-to-day Portland existence, when I just pray that someone here will just give me a chance. That they’ll see something and say, “go for it.” That they’ll give me a look and say, “run with it.” That they’ll extend a hand and say, “let’s go.” That they’ll trust me and say, “Yes.”
I’m so tired of waiting patiently for someone else to knock on the door so that I can open it.
When do I get that chance? Why is the power in their hands? Why do I have to wait for them to knock before I can get out? Do the work? Put myself out there? Be seen?
Why! Why am I letting someone else determine when I’m ready. When am I ready? I’m ready when I’m ready and I’ve been ready already.
I know it’s selfish to say this and what this: I understand that we all want that chance; we all have something we want to do or to be, but there always exists that possibility that those opportunities won’t come to our door and knock.
Knock, knock; please, knock.
But, jeez, I feel like I’m capable and able and willing. I feel like I’ve put in the time. I feel like I will put in even more time. I would do whatever it takes. I now I can deliver. I now the skill is in me and the passion is in me and the ambition is in me.
I’m impatient in general, and I’m growing impatient now. And, yes, I’m a little selfish at times.
But, if anything, Portland has taught me that being an advocate for yourself- whether it’s as a human, a person with goals, a boyfriend, a friend, a shop manager, a designer, an artist- is at cross-purposes with people *always* *liking* you.
If I need to be selfish, so what. It means I’m letting my desires out in the world and acting on them. If I’m impatient, it’s because I know I’ve put in a lot of work and I can darn well produce just as well as the people who’re getting the experiences I want. If I’m contrary, well, it’s because I know after 15 months that the person who held my job (for 15 years!?!) didn’t do one of the vital aspects of his job: running a shop and advocating for its success. I’m trying. I’m working. I’m sacrificing.
But I’m still hoping.
And I’m putting it out there.