In 1961, Jean-Luc Godard released the film Une Femme est une Femme (A Woman is a Woman), which I had to watch in undergrad as part of a film studies class. It it supposed to be a tribute to American musicals and centers around a woman wanting to have a child but her lover does not want one. It is a confusing, jarring film (at least for someone who'd never seen a French New Wave film before), and earlier today I realized I've been feeling the same way the past few month as I did sitting in a chilly, darkened classroom watching that film for the first time, discombobulated and lost, trying to understand what was going on but feeling severely off balance.
You might notice the last post was three months ago.
I've thought about writing in the past few months a handful of times. But I've always held off.
My original plan was to write a new blog once I'd secured a career in the commercial arts/museum field. To have it be an exciting post: Huzzah! My life will be illuminated once more and I will be so occupied! I will work at a lovely place filled with history and have a cute, small apartment and make money that I can save little by little to travel with!
But right now I don't know when that will be, and my mental health is very poor. I usually express emotions through writing and drawing, but because not being readily employed out of grad school can be seen as embarrassing, I kept it inside. If people asked how things were going while I was at work or with friends, I would reply--but I wouldn't bring it up. However--because I've been keeping every negative thought inside me for the past five or so months, and drawing it out would probably look way worse than just putting it into words--I'll just write what's been going on.
Before Christmas, I was very busy. I worked two jobs, revived a book deal, and applied to positions at museums, auction houses, arcane art societies and galleries the world over. After Christmas, my one job finished up and I really enjoyed the extra time. But then the time dragged on, and I wondered exactly what was happening. I sent my cover letter templates and resume to friends in the arts field and they said they looked great; I grew frustrated.
I had a Master's degree from one of the top universities in the world, two solo exhibitions under my belt, with the co-curation of two more from undergrad. I was multilingual, very experienced, and cosmopolitan--so why was no one getting back to me? I worried that because I came home to a rural area, no one wanted to waste the time in bringing me in from far away. I made connections and called influential women from D.C. and Vermont--but because they only dealt with directors and such, they could only offer advice on how to nab a job.
I applied to one position at a Massachusetts university who held me on the line for months, replying to my email asking for an update that they were finalizing people for the interview list and to please wait. I figured I must be a contender for the list because they didn't simply say I wasn't chosen in that email. I waited three more weeks. They sent me a form letter rejection.
I did have one phone interview about a month ago. It went really incredibly well, and they called me for the interview the day after I sent them my cover letter and resume. They were so kind that at first I thought it might be a scam of some sort. But it would be a wonderful position; a really wonderful position. They said they would be in contact soon; only I am not sure how soon is 'soon'. I thought it meant a week or two weeks, but hiring in the arts world goes painfully slowly. I'm terrified to send them a follow-up email in case I seem pushy or nagging.
So I'll see. I'm not dead--just horribly stagnant. I work out and play piano and draw and play with my dog--but my friends are either busy with children or work and live very far away so I don't hang out with anyone much. I don't know when I'll have to start paying for an apartment so I'm not spending any money if I can help it.
A happy note is that, at the end of next month, my family is going to Florida and I wasn't supposed to stay home and lay on the floor staring at the ceiling. :P I'll get to actually be out in the sunshine and warmth (season depression is definitely a thing in Western NY and I have horrible heat circulation so winter is not great fun), and lay on a beach somewhere and stare at the sky. I think it'll be really good for me, and maybe between now and then someone will get back to me about a position.
Hopefully I will have good news to write about within the next couple months!
Official website of Rachael Kosinski, 24.
Pen for hire.