An artist in corporate clothing

Last week I interviewed for job I'm still being considered for here in the Bay Area. It's another one of these marketing meets filmmaking type positions, that in reality is all project management with enough marketing for me to convince myself it's a creative job and enough connection to filmmaking to convince myself that it's related to what I'm really interested in. They told me that two people would be selected from this round to meet the SVP of Marketing and then the decision would be made. I got an email right away that I was one of those two.

This is the job that I gave the presentation for and had a sick feeling afterwards. I thought they were they were not enthused with my ideas, I thought they were grilling me because they didn't think I was qualified. Neither was true. I'm realizing now that everything that happens, is happening inside me. What I see on the outside is only a reflection of what's happening in my mind. It may or may not even be happening!

It occurred to me that I still didn't know why I was even continuing to interview for it. I wondered if it was because I don't like to leave things undone and I didn't want to walk away from an opportunity without understanding fully what the opportunity was. Maybe I thought if they made me a good offer, I'd stay for a little while and do my thing later. "Do my thing later?" Then I realized I didn't even know what the salary range was for this position. When the HR assistant emailed me to set up the next interview, I asked. The salary range was far below what I was expecting and what I would have asked for. Interesting.

Now, all of a sudden, it seems easier to walk away from this position. It becomes the final vote to do my own thing. But it wasn't! Somehow this threw me into an even crazier loop because it made me start to understand that it really doesn't matter whether I have a job or how much the job pays. I reviewed the benefits for the company: Three weeks vacation, over a week of holidays and the time between Christmas and New Year off, free gym and classes, free lunch twice a week, flexible work weeks, free counseling, first time home buying assistance, a $5,000 rebate if you buy a hybrid, paid jury duty and volunteer hours, discounts, free tickets, on and on and on. This is why people want to work there. This is why they can hire people who are over qualified and pay them less than they're used to getting. It's not a stepping stone to something else, this is a lifestyle.

After a talk with the HR gal, she said she could add $10k to the top end of the range and with the potential 20% bonus, it was within $8k of the low end of my range. I felt my throat clench and my stomach turn. I felt myself in danger of considering this job (that I haven't been offered yet) even as everything that came out of my mouth was meant to get them to go away. It was like when I was trying to break up with the last guy I dated: he was perfect on paper but he made my stomach turn. I decided to go to the last interview anyway, wait for the offer and then consider it. The SVP asked me very directly why I wanted the job. My answer was weird, weak and unconvincing, even to me. I couldn't think of a reason in the world why anyone would want this job. All of a sudden it made sense why they keep asking me that question.

A friend of mine asked me the same question only an hour earlier and my answer to her was honest. For this and the last three jobs I've considered, I wanted them "because of the potential that it could help my film career." That was my only answer. I couldn't believe it. How absurd! I'm too afraid to pursue what I really want so I look for it in a job. There's a part of me that wishes I could just get a job in a great company like this one, buy a house, meet a guy, get married and make a bunch of babies and friends who like to ski and camp and take trips together. As the years pass, however, more of me begins to accept that I'm just not that person. I'm an artist. I have more ideas than could ever be utilized in a job and at the end of the day, the only thing that matters to me is expressing myself. I can live without the other stuff but living a life without sharing my ideas and creating art with like minded people isn't living; it's dying a slow, comfortable death. I've spent the last three years discovering what came to me yesterday afternoon in an instant. I *don't* want that job, I never did and no one is convinced that I do, even if they see how my ideas and energy could benefit their company.

Starting my own business is also, I realize, not a means to financial independence in the usual sense. I'm not looking for a business idea that will make me rich. Living in this world of tech startups and VC capital has made me think that I probably could. I certainly have the ideas and smarts and enough talented friends to make it happen, but it isn't what I want. What I want is to make movies. That's it. Documentaries, shorts, features, low budget, big budget, webisodes, it doesn't really matter, as long as it's a film. I had a boss once who said my problem was I have "too much potential." He said that it would be hard for me to stay committed to art because I was capable of too many other things. He said that in 2002. It's true that choice can be paralyzing. It is extremely difficult to intentionally give up the earning potential of a steady career to be an artist. There's no clear path, no guarantee of success and no automatic respect in title.

When I get emails from actor friends, desperate for a job because they're flat broke, or when I hear filmmakers talking about spending everything they have on a film that didn't pay out, it scares me. This is a life of poverty and uncertainty, sometimes temporary, sometimes not. All of this time I've been accusing myself of running away from security, responsibility and commitment because I didn't have a solid career, a husband and a house. It turns out, I'm not not running away from anything, I'm just fumbling towards where I belong. The truth is, I do want those things, but not at the cost of giving up who I am.