I started my gig here the same day as Conlan. Like him, I had done some projects for Windsong in the past. Also like him, I had grown accustom to a life of freelancing from home. I, too, was anxious about the whole pants thing.
I guess you could say I was anxious all around. It’s no coincidence that Windsong has a reputation for being really good at what they do. It’s because they are really good at what they do. Everyone here has the potential to be intimidating based on their own merits. Collectively, though, I felt like I had walked up to the Vatican and convinced the Pope I deserved the opportunity to work there because I once read a quote from Mother Theresa.
How on earth would I ever fit in with these people? It wasn’t just that they were all super talented. They were also all good-looking and clearly more hip than I could ever hope to be in my lifetime. Krause and his scarves. Jo and her knee-high boots and clunky jewelry. The incredible assortment of thick-rimmed glasses and newsboy caps. I’m still not completely convinced Sara isn’t from an advanced alien race sent down to earth to make the rest of us feel genetically inferior. No human girl can look that put together every day without some sort of supernatural assistance. I just don’t believe it.
In my first few weeks, I managed to drop a plate of sandwiches at Byron’s feet, require a fifteen-minute tutorial on how to unlock the front doors, and ask approximately 47,362 questions to each person on staff. However, they also let me shop for various costumes and prop pieces, create a spreadsheet of all the amazing local performers I know, act as a featured extra in a movie, suggest some stanzas for a rap spoof, make a few silly Vines with Scott and Jo (who, turns out, are as kind and gracious as they are stylish and skilled), and even do a little bit of writing. This encapsulates much of what the experience has been like. Everything is exciting and new, but I definitely still feel wobbly and tentative throughout most of my days. There’s that old psychology test, “Would you rather be the best of the worst or the worst of the best?” After spending some time at Windsong, I know what my answer is. There’s something exhilarating, albeit terrifying, about going into work every day knowing you need to be the top version of yourself in order to be worthy of sharing the same space as your co-workers. It’s also comforting to know you can trust all of them to catch you any time you might literally or figuratively fall. Not that I would ever literally fall; I’m way too graceful for that.
One day, a group of potential clients came through the office on a tour. After they left, Byron let out a sigh of relief and asked me, “How did I sound?” It was the first time it occurred to me that, as brilliant as they all are, the people I work with are actual, fallible humans with their own insecurities and doubt. It gives me hope that maybe each one of them had to also go through a learning curve before they grew to be the successful pros they are today.
Except Sara, of course, and her inherent extraterrestrial perfection.
Ballerinas and hibiscus flowers,
Haley
The Windsong Productions reclaimed wood desk was made by the talented team at Revive Industries. It’ll probably be the first thing you see when you visit our offices — or you might see Haley first, depending on how tall you are.
