The empty desert that is February and March, often January and sometimes April... no work.
Little work.
Work that trickles in as you beg friends to pay you to hem pants and repair pockets...
and sometimes you get to alter Cristo-esque blankets that cover set pieces...
This is the season when one questions the path that has led to art as a career... and pines to tell your younger self "go into biology!" "How about you try computer programming"
Soon all of the shouting about being out of work should result in a tsunami of jobs that (hopefully) will make me wonder why I was ever so despondent about this paucity of work.
(fingers crossed)
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