Invisible

We don't see a lot, in spite of social networking and instant Internet news. Sometimes a documentary or magazine article will reveal an invisible world, like say, rodeos, coin collecting or dog shows. The people and things within these worlds are a kind of closed circuit, revolving around outside our "trending now" everydayness.

The tragedy in Arizona suddenly brings to light one of these invisible worlds: mental illness. Clearly, the "suspect" shooter needed treatment years before the preventable disaster, but instead ended up isolated like so many in this mostly misunderstood world. We hide people with brain disorders in prisons, under freeway overpasses, residential hotels, a relative's spare room, or homes for the aging with dementia.

I spend most of my time in another invisible world: the arts. Sure, a few shining members of this world grace the front pages (of the Entertainment Section). But artists generally cycle unseen on two paths: 1) Create or perform work; 2) Work a "regular" job to pay off debts incurred in #1.

As an artist without a "regular" job, I've been keeping myself sane by engaging in various creative projects like radio drama with KPFA- Berkeley, writing poems and short stories, dancing, singing and actng. None of these activities pay even close to a living wage. Job listings in performing arts are - yes - invisible.

Seeking to become less invisible, I posted my performing artist resume on a popular online job site. Presto! I received three emails from various highly positioned employers. "I am impressed by your skills and think you're a perfect fit for our organization. Please contact me for an interview." Great! They saw on my resume that I can act, sing, direct plays and write poetry and will pay me to do these things! Or they want me full time as a drama professor at a college!

WRONG. The job openings for which I was asked to interview? An insurance company, a bank, a realty firm, full time data entry. Like Superman, we artists work undercover in such jobs. That man or woman in the cubicle next to you might even be one.