When we talk about pursuing a career in the arts, we often talk about the big moments: booking a role, opening night, hearing the audience applaud, or finally getting the opportunity we’ve been working toward for years. But what happens between those moments? What does life look like when the curtain is down and the next project hasn’t arrived yet?
These are some of the questions I found myself thinking about after attending R.Evolución Latina’s panel, After the Curtain Falls: Navigating Life and Work In Between Projects, at the Museum of Broadway. Listening to artists share their experiences reminded me that the time between projects isn’t separate from an artistic career. It’s part of it.
I know this reality well. Alongside performing, I’ve worked as a choreographer, a production team member, a props maker, a nanny, a personal assistant, a waitress, and a catering worker, among other things. My life doesn’t always look like what people imagine when they think of a performing artist. But these jobs help me sustain my life and continue pursuing the work I love. They don’t make me any less of an artist.
I’m also learning that being an artist doesn’t always mean waiting to be chosen. Sometimes, it means creating opportunities for yourself and others.
Working with Jenny Prada at ArtPlus has been an important part of that realization. Jenny saw something in me and gave me the opportunity to grow beyond performing. Through ArtPlus, I’ve learned about production, executive producing, creative project coordination, preparing press materials, and helping bring artistic projects and events to life. I’m discovering that I can contribute to this community in different ways. I can perform, but I can also help create spaces where other artists get to share their work.
Still, finding different ways to build a career doesn’t make uncertainty disappear.
As an immigrant from Peru building an independent life in New York City, I’m navigating the uncertainty of immigration paperwork alongside the unpredictable nature of this industry. It’s hard to plan a future when so much depends on things outside your control. You can work hard, prepare, and do everything you can, and still find yourself waiting for an answer.
I’m still learning how to live with that uncertainty. Some days feel heavier than others, but I continue to choose paciencia y fe. As In the Heights reminds us through Abuela Claudia, those words can carry us through moments when we don’t know what comes next. For me, they don’t mean pretending everything will work out exactly as I imagined. They mean being patient with my own journey and having faith even when I can’t see what’s ahead.
I’m also learning that I don’t have to figure everything out alone. Building a life far from home has taught me the importance of community and chosen family. When your family and the people who have known you your whole life are thousands of miles away, finding people who support you, celebrate your wins, and remind you who you are means everything. Sometimes, they help you keep going when you’re not sure of yourself.
Maria Bilbao – Photo by Krystal Pagan
As a Peruvian artist, I carry my culture, my language, and my experiences into every room I enter. I am not a daughter of immigrants. I am the immigrant. I am the one who left home and is learning to build a life far away from everything familiar. That experience shapes the stories I want to tell and the spaces I want to help create.
I hope that someone from Peru, or someone who recognizes a part of their own story in mine, can see what’s possible. Not because the path is easy or because hard work guarantees a particular outcome, but because our stories deserve to be told, and we deserve to take up space in the rooms where those stories are being created.
I don’t have everything figured out. I’m still discovering who I am as an artist, learning new skills, and figuring out how to balance the life I need to build with the career I dream of having. Some days, I feel close to where I want to be. Other days, I have no idea what comes next. I’m learning that both can be true.
Maybe that’s what the in-between really is. It’s not the empty time between the moments that matter. It’s part of the work, too. It’s where we learn, change, meet people who become part of our story, and discover that we might become someone we couldn’t have imagined when we first started.
The curtain will rise again. Until then, there’s still a life to build, work to do, and opportunities to create. I may not know exactly where this journey will take me, but I’m still here, still dreaming, and still becoming.
