I had the honor to be cast in Death of a Salesman years ago. I remember always peeping through the side curtain at the end of the show to see Biff's monologue. Every single night my eyes would well up with tears, but I never new why.
When I ride on the subway, sometimes I scan the faces of the souls around me. I hear people talking on their cell phones about losing a job, hating their boss, the stress of relationships; and on and on. I see a-lot more Willy Loman's than I use to.
When I lost my survival job over a week ago, and the health insurance that went with it, I pondered on the lonely subway ride home, how I could avoid this situation in the future. I thought painfully if I should give up on my dreams of making it as an artist in the big city. Having flexibility is a huge need for artists and survival jobs are always best for that. But, I have grown so tired with poor pay, shady bosses, and people walking on egg shells; fearing the angry boss will say, "we no longer need you here."
I pondered why it is so difficult to find a job where you do what you love, are given great pay and benefits; in return for extremely hard work, passion, creativity, and loyalty. A workplace where people cared about each other, was inspiring, and tapped into everyone's strengths to make this world better. Was I to niave to believe such a place existed?
In deep thought, a homeless man enters the crowded subway car and sings "Ain't gonna study war no more." I nod softly, and realize that was the right song, at the right time.
My somber attitude changed:
I said a silent prayer for those who let me go and wished them well in my mind, decided I was going to enjoy my time off, made a pact with myself that I would use my creativity to find a way to make a living doing what I love, and most importantly "surrendered" that when God closes a door, he does so, for a very good reason. God is also under no obligation to fill me in on the "why's."
So, as of yet I haven't went back to the survival job track. But, I started to write a female ensemble monologue play, began a book on integrity, have improved the 20 monolouges memorized for auditions, and tried to perfect my political comedy impersonations.
By losing my job, I have become so much more prepared for when the big guy upstairs gives me my moment/big break.
I daydream often of figuring out a way to do the female version of Death of a Salesman; with my sister (a former Olympian) playing Biff and me as Happy. Oh the dreams...
I think I now know why I cried those nights I peered through the curtain; I like Biff, won't give up on my dreams, no matter how many obstacles come across my path.
And if I take all these risks and still fail:
As Jack Nicolson said in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" as he pulled up a sink while others laughed at his seemingly hopeless effort...
AT LEAST I TRIED
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john blumenthal
The Yellow Starlings
Love Grandma
Maria Stuart
Kerry Lauerman
Joan Walsh
Salon.com
Comments
“In deep thought, a homeless man enters the crowded subway car and sings ‘Ain't gonna study war no more.’”
This line took me back to one of my childhood summers when I was visiting my relatives in New York. I was riding the subway for perhaps the first time. There was a man sitting on the floor of the subway, singing and drumming, “Help me, help me, help me.” I can still remember the cadence of his pleas. I had made about $30 helping my aunt at her shop, and before I left the subway, I placed a bill in his hand while looking into his soft eyes. My aunt and uncle probably thought I was a naïve child being taken advantage of by a street peddler, but to have listened to his poignant song and walked away would have cost my soul far more than an ephemeral five-dollar bill.
“I pondered why it is so difficult to find a job where you do what you love, are given great pay and benefits; in return for extremely hard work, passion, creativity, and loyalty. A workplace where people cared about each other, was inspiring, and tapped into everyone's strengths to make this world better. Was I to niave to believe such a place existed?”
I am extraordinarily thankful that I can attest there are indeed jobs like that, because I am blessed enough to have one. Try academia :-) You will have much better luck finding the kindred creatives you are seeking.
I’m glad you are trying—and that you’re taking your time “off” to write and share your good work with us.
—Melissa (same one from Love Grandma and metaness :-)
Peace- Create