Monday, September 10, 2007

The Interlude

I was sitting in my room when the phone rang. It was a friend asking me to go out to a fancy party somewhere. I didn't really wanted to go, but my reasonable side remembered that if I don't go out once in a while I can succumb to depression again and so I agreed to go.

I sat on my dressing desk figuring out what to wear. I love to dress up for a party. I like trying new things on and see if they look good or not, especially if I'm hearing some easy-listening song in the background - maybe an opera. Often I find myself drowning in the high notes of the music and forget to get ready.

I work on the perfect makeup like a piece of art. Have I mentioned I like to feel pretty? I never forget the perfume. Lacoste, Chanel or Versace, it depends on where I'm going and how much attention I want to get.

While I wait for the ride to come I usually face a sudden melancholia. I don't feel like going out, but the ride is already on the way. I know I have to go so I won't be sick again, but I really don't want to get out of my safe cubicle and spend the whole night out there, somewhere.

I feel so peaceful at home and as much as it suffocates me sometimes it is my safe ground and I don't want to leave even for a few hours. The interlude between getting ready and waiting for the ride is always a torture. I don't know where to stand, if I should turn on the TV or if I should put on the high heels already.

Maybe I extended myself in the digression to explain my current situation right now. I'm in an interlude - an intermezzo, as the most cheered names of the operas would call it - and I'm lost between the nostalgia of what happened in the first act of my life and dying of anticipation of what may come next.

I've prepared myself for this moment for years. I studied, I got in a good college, I learned English and Italian. I did everything obsessively right so I would get a good job and gain my independence while drowning in the dazzling wave of versatile that working with arts would provide me.

I just made a big mistake: I didn't think my passion for stability would be greater than the uncertainly of leading an artistic life. Because of the insecurity filmmaking provides I lost passion for it somewhere between end of college and my first job.

Two weeks of slave work, no payment and being harassed by the co-workers were enough to make me give up - after staying awake more than 43 hours filming a stupid TV commercial and having a nervous breakdown. The small flame of passion inside of me extinguished and I knew I couldn't do it. I needed some time to think.

I've got my time between June and August. I've got a job in a school and I'm teaching English and Italian to a bunch of kids who are more worried about dating than learning another language. The irony of it all is that the school's method is a big fraud. Even if they wanted to learn they wouldn't because they just memorize some sentences that may help them not starve if they ever leave the country. I agreed with the method because I don't have to work too hard and I'm getting a great amount of money for the ridiculous work I'm doing.

But now I've reached my conclusion. I had the time that I needed to think and I realized I don't want instability. I only picture myself happy when I think about a comfortable country house with a beautiful garden, dogs and peace and quiet that only the English fields would provide nowadays. I imagine myself painting an impressionist view in that scenario. For that I need financial stability, I can't keep teaching and I can't rely on filmmaking to allow me to pursue that dream one day.

Now I feel suffocated with the responsibility of having to teach until November like I promised the school. I decided to attend University again and I'm already studying for the entrance exams. My new chosen course is Architecture. It deals with arts and it's highly paid. I should have no problem getting a job in the area with the Italian language on my resume.

Meanwhile something marvelous happened in the filmmaking career. I was kindly invited to work in the next Disney movie. I was taken by surprise, but I didn't change my plans because of it. It only encouraged me even more to drop teaching and only work with animation while I resume another University course.

I don't know if I've chosen the right path right now. All I know is that I'm stuck in this moment when I'm all dressed up and have no choice but to wait for the ride to come pick me up. I'm stuck in a moment when turning on the TV is too late and putting the sandals on is too soon.

I feel ready, but I don't want to go out just yet.

The Act I is over and even though I'm curious I'm afraid of what may come with the Act II.




Painting by Garmash.