After nearly 12 years in New York City, I took a job in Pittsburgh seeking a fresh start. Pittsburgh proved professionally and personally disappointing, and conflicts with a boss over creative vision culminated in being fired. Repeated visits to Los Angeles over a decade fostered a strong sense of belonging and affinity for its creative energy. Frequent trips intensified the desire to stay, and a friend's remark made relocation feel possible. In October 2015 I packed up and moved to Los Angeles to pursue a more fulfilling, creative life among like-minded people.
After months of struggling with my boss over creative vision, which typically ended in him telling me I was uncreative and unintelligent and me crying in a corner, I was unceremoniously fired. At this point, I felt like I was dangling on a dangerous precipice. Pittsburgh, the city that had once seemed so full of possibility for me, was feeling more and more like a wasteland both professionally and personally.
While I'd been visiting Los Angeles increasingly more in the last 15 months, I'd actually been going there for a decade at this point, visiting different friends and distant family members each time. I'd always felt a strong connection to the city. It seemed as if creative vibes ran through every street, nook, and cranny. Practically everyone I met was creative in some way, and respected that trait in others, too.
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