Santa doesn't live at the North Pole. No, he lives in room 314 at the hotel; for now anyway. How do I know this? I'm a housekeeper by day at a local hotel where Santa is staying. The housekeeping gig was an opportunity that I had to take most recently.
Sometimes artists have to take on odd jobs and hold the art muse at bay for a few hours and I've come to believe that such jobs are placed before us not only to continue to stretch our character to new levels, but because there is always inspiration to be found in the most unusual and unexpected places and the path of an artist is strange and never straight. Inspirations to solve problems or projects sometimes can't be found on a normal path, we need such diversions to solve issues and to create new things and this part time job is doing just that for a huge part of the artist in me that had stopped dreaming years ago.
There is a meditatative calm that comes about when engrossed in the mundane. In the realm of all this mundane work is a good deal of intrigue and laughter at how humans live on a daily basis in a small room. I never thought such a job would expand my artistic ability, but it has in ways no other job could. Every room holds intrigue. Some rooms hold secrets. Each room has some interetsing inspiration in it. Santa's room has tons of peroxide and red hair clippings. Apparently Santa is a red head. Yeah, I didnt know either.
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