Out of the Frying Pan into the Bathtub
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My name may be familiar to you, reader. Maybe you recognize it from the fading memory of your child’s school theater production playbill, or perhaps from reading Stella Haffner’s interviews with me in this very column. Thanks to Stella and the Montecito Journal, you’ll be seeing my name on a much more regular basis as the new author of “Dear Montecito.” How did this come to pass?
At every school I attended – MUS, Crane Country Day School, and Laguna Blanca – I was the resident art-kid, only comfortable when buried in a sketchbook or hidden behind a theatrical role. After a long day’s work in elementary school, I’d put in an extra shift at home as an aspiring author, writing stories (including a 100+ page rip-off of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight) in my makeshift office: a bathtub with couch pillows in it.
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Though I grew out of my bathtub phase (my family wanted to use my office for its “intended purpose”), I never stopped writing, keeping a daily record in over 20 journals since 2012 that include song lyrics, poems, and scrapbook collages.
Naturally, I left college with a degree that married visual arts, performance, and writing: animation. Even with the chaos of the pandemic, I was fortunate to nab a stable job right out of college. But two years into what some animators would consider a dream position – producing mobile filters for the social media mogul TikTok, my work seen by millions – I called my boss on a sunny afternoon to say: “This is my last day.”
My rational mind’s desire for stability could no longer withstand the persistent gnawing in my gut. I was the most unhappy I’d ever been, with no answer as to why.
I spent two years in search of an answer by busying myself with a myriad of unrelated jobs, from working in a children’s ceramics studio to hosting trivia. I deflected my peers’ questions, playfully naming my unforeseen career deviation my “side-quest era,” as if I was some valiant adventurer boosting her skill points before returning to her main quest.
I was fully aware that none of these gigs were my true calling; however, they satisfied an itch I’d never noticed needed scratching at my previous jobs: community. After the pandemic had swallowed my final college years, it felt refreshing to meet and learn from people outside my artistic discipline. Learning more about the world through other people’s accounts revitalized my creativity, and I promised myself that whatever my next job may be, it would involve illuminating the stories of those around me.
On the cusp of this discovery, the universe floated Stella to me to cover my first ever solo gallery show, HORSE$H*T. My show’s closure and Stella’s departure from these pages lined up perfectly, in what felt like a fateful opportunity.
I ask you, young reader, to contact me with accounts of personal achievements, valued life lessons, or thought-provoking stories so that I might share them with a wider, waiting audience. I’m particularly interested in stories about how the Montecito community has facilitated your upbringing, career, or passion project.
I look forward to bringing diverse experiences to readers’ attention to foster compassion, connection, and community. Thank you Stella Hafner and the staff at the Montecito Journal for believing in me.
And now – it’s back to the bathtub.
Please feel free contact me at beatricetolan@gmail.com