Today has been man versus technology. Today I’ve been working all day, recording and editing. Today I gave hours of my time for no financial renumeration at all. But I was enjoying most of it. Until I got to the technical part.
It’s not so much the time taken recording stuff. It’s the time in post. This is my issue with self-tapes, and it carries through to all the “do stuff from home” malarkey.
As soon as there’s a bit of money on the table then my whole attitude changes. I’ll put the hours in tinkering. But if I’m working for free I don’t like doing the technical stuff and I lose patience almost immediately, particularly if I start getting chased for unpaid work. That’s a sure fire way to bump yourself down the list.
It’s not what I signed up for, the technical stuff. Nevertheless, something made me agree to do these things. I’m a man of my word. Today was the day I did the bulk of the work. I recorded an unpaid thing. I edited it a bit. I edited some video for another unpaid thing. I fucked with WeTransfer. It’s done. I’m not doing any more unpaid things. Well, apart from a quick easy one for Jack but that’s basically working for myself. But yeah. I’m not a graduate anymore, lockdown or no lockdown. Silly idealistic fucker. Pay me.
Exposure? Meh. A useful practical kit test? 100%. Getting better at the post production shit? Indubitably. Money? *cries* Now I’ve sorted the kit and my editing is stronger, bring me the dollars thankyouplease.
I was on a roll before lockdown, fuck it. It’ll come again. But this is getting long now, and things are mounting up.
My council tax bounced because Kitcat has only paid half her rent so far with no explanation. I’m getting seriously worried about cashflow, particularly with the fine from the coppers. But I haven’t spoken to many entertainment world people like me who’ve been used to living through graft and attention and who aren’t worried at the moment. There are a few clever ones who have found lucrative lockdown hustles. A few who aren’t earning the money they live on in the first place, and are thus always going to be fine. A few who have already banked the big money gig and are sitting pretty.
I have to thank my lucky stars I’ve got the flat – (and kitcat will pay the rent eventually, she just forgets that other people have needs.)
Like a fucking Oscar speech I have to thank Esta Charkham and AFTLS and The Christmas Carol Team and Sylvia and D3 events and Nina Gold’s office and Netflix and Creation and Big Telly for that impossible run of work before and into the lockdown that has meant I’m not quite yet working out which foot to eat first. I thought that that money was gonna help me fly, but almost more importantly it helped me not drown.
If I hadn’t paid my credit card off entirely I wouldn’t have the buffer zone I’m now burning through. It’s frustrating as all hell to go back to where I was, as it felt great clearing the debt. But my instinct at the time was not to cancel the credit card. And evidently that was a good instinct dammit.
I hate getting back into debt but I’ve got no option for the moment. And I’ll be angling for flow again as soon as possible. If I’ve hit it once, it’s there for me to hit it again. It’s what I’ve worked for. What I’ve chanted for. Onwards.