i had an idea

I had an idea to treat making art like a job.


I became the CEO of my art. I started waking up at 4:30am for a long
morning walk like Steve Jobs. I exercised before breakfast like Sheryl. I
dressed for success like Sundar.

It wasn’t a persona. It was a job. In the office I was deemed a high performer.
If art was a job then maybe I’d be able to make something.

I got a coffeemaker. I bought an ergonomic chair.

I broke the day into 15-minute blocks. Time to eat. Time for coffee. Sleep, 7.5
hours. Exercise. Creative time email time family time.

I typed long anxious notes into Google Calendar events. I rescheduled my
emotions for a later date.

I had an idea to make a career transition, from software designer to artist. I
had an idea to question my upward mobility. I had an idea to close some
doors.

I had an idea to apply for jobs I didn’t want so I could turn them down.

I really wanted an offer from Amazon. I cleaned up my website. I joined
LinkedIn Premium.

AWS ignored me. I watched each application move from 'In Review' to
'Archived.' Maybe they found my signature on the petition “No Work for
Amazon NY,” in opposition to their proposed headquarters in Queens.

Audible didn’t seem to care. They had already gentrified a
neighborhood in Newark. They emphasized: converted cathedral
building and free meals.

IBM emails me every week with new job listings. Palantir got a little too
friendly. I let Raytheon go to voicemail.

I blew off Comcast. I streamed the Twitch interview.

Michelle works at Facebook, so taking their calls in our living room is
awkward.

The Morgan Stanley office is across from the ACLU. In the marble lobby there
is a grand piano. Anyone can play—but only on Mondays and Wednesdays
between 3-5 pm.

It’s Tuesday, 10 am and I sneak a selfie with the sign out front. I meet Michael
the hiring manager in the lobby. He is very apologetic about the
misunderstanding last week. We go up the elevator and into a glass
conference room. I express genuine interest in finance, but lie about wanting
to work on his team. We work through some hypothetical problems on the
whiteboard. At the end of our 3 hours together, he lets me down easy.

I start to feel bad about my experiment. None of these companies want me or
my premature rejection. I learn something about leverage.

Quinlan Maggio is an artist and third-year MFA student at Hunter College in New York. Quinlan writes and makes videos and objects informed by a constant ongoing practice of performance. www.quinlanmaggio.net/