Always Tired @artiebhatt - Tumblr Blog

I. Hi! We’re happy to have you with us. First thing’s first, can you slate for us please?

“I’m Artie… Well, erm… Can I take that again? I promised I would try and sound professional, but I’m already failing. My name is Arjun, but I go by Art. Art Bhatt. I’m twenty six years old. I guess I use he/him pronouns when I’m not being called the gender neutral title of ‘hey, kid,’ and I’m a Special Effects Technician at Vanguard Entertainment. People are always telling me I look like Dev Patel, but I’m pretty sure they just think all Indians look alike.”

II. It’s great to meet you. So you have to know that everyone’s been curious about you, why don’t we start with where you’re from? Tell us where you grew up and what your childhood and family were like.

“I actually grew up in Los Angeles. My older sister is a doctor, and my little sister is practically a musical prodigy, so, ah, you can probably guess my parents are less than thrilled that their son plays with fake blood for a living. My grandparents are more supportive, but I’m pretty sure that’s because they don’t like my sister’s husband. My grandfather told me I was his revenge for all the shit my dad put them through. I guess I’ve always been the problem child. When I was a kid I used to fill balloons up with red jello, and throw them off the edge of the stairwell. I wanted to make it look like I pushed my little sister off the handrail… Not that I wanted to, you know, like, actually hurt her… Alright… If it wasn’t obvious, I didn’t have a lot of friends outside of my favorite movie monsters.”

III. Well, they say our upbringing molds who we become. I’m sure that you got your reputation for being (3 +/- traits) from that.

+ meticulous, assiduous, genial - quixotic, obsequious, ingratiating

IV. And what about that lead you to your current career? How did that impact you enough to want to do what you do now?

“This is just always what I wanted to do. I don’t remember when it started, but I used to sneak into R rated movies all the time after school. I would tell my parents I was in chess club or some shit, but really I was stealing popcorn. I spent my greasy teenage years working at a knockoff blockbuster, but I think what really did it was seeing those dogs split in half in The Thing. It was just so… Gross. I was obsessed with that movie. I’d say ‘art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed’, but I’m pretty sure that’s just the live laugh love of edgy artists.”

V. That’s awesome. I’m sure our readers will love to hear that. So you knew you had a calling, what came next? How did you get yourself to Hollywood? What was your first job?

“Believe it or not I was pre-med before I dropped out to work on my hobby full time, but I was miserable at school. I did okay, but I was going to school all day, then working full time third shift. I was fucking void and miserable like a Romero zombie. I got serious about my craft when one of my buddies asked me to make a fake cadaver for a student film he was a part of. It just kinda took off from there. I rented a shitty studio with my financial aid money to work in, to hide what I was doing from my parents. After a while I just stopped going to class, and started working on no budget projects until I earned an apprenticeship at an independent effects studio. When I told my parents about it they kicked me out. My mom cried. My dad said I broke her heart. Guess that’s what I get for trying to follow my dreams.”

VI. Of course, but we all know there’s a sea of faces out here trying to get famous as well, right? It must have been hard, the first few rejections or being told something wasn’t good enough. What was the most difficult thing you faced on your journey?

“It took a couple of years for Vanguard to take me on; actually, it was sheer dumb luck that I landed this job. This city is all about who you are, and who you know so I guess the hardest part has been that I’m a nobody who doesn’t know anybody. If I had a dollar for every time some jackass actor asked me to go get them a latte I could finance my own movies. I just try to keep my head down around the talent, and keep working hard at what I do best.”

VII. So then what was the moment that you realized you made it? Or are you still waiting for that moment?

“For people like me in the industry fame is a foreign concept. You’re either good, or you’re out of a job— that’s it. So the day I got the call from Vanguard it took every ounce of professionalism in my body not to shriek like a fan girl. I knew I made it the second they were interested enough in me to take the time to seek me out. Of course after the call was over I was practically squealing. Everyday I get to work on something I love is a day I’ve made it.” (1 - Bit Player)

VIII. It’s amazing when you make it far enough in this town when so many people end up giving up and going home, isn’t it? So now that you’re here, what’s next for you?

“One day I want to be a respected name in the industry, maybe make my own movies where I can truly dictate my ideas, but I won’t hold my breath. It’s already been a miracle that I’ve made it this far. I think a more reasonable goal would be to become a props master, maybe— maybe owning my own effects company. Who knows. Three years ago my goals were to get through medical school in one piece. Goals change, shit happens. All I can hope is I’ll be ready when it does.”

IX. Now we know it’s personal but we have to ask, do you have any comment about the rumors going around about you?

“HR pulled me aside the other day to ask me if I was homeless because someone saw me sleeping on the bus bench. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed that someone caught me falling asleep and missing my bus, or if I should be offended that HR thinks it matters if I’m homeless. It’s all to keep up appearances. I’m not homeless, but I have been sleeping studio since my parents kicked me out. It’s cheaper than an apartment. I may have my dream job, but I’m definitely not making my dream pay.”

X. Thank you so much for talking to us today. Lastly, is there anything you want our readers to know about you?

“Um, wow, way to put me on the spot. Now I gotta think of something that makes me sound interesting. Well, I don’t just like making art with fake blood, latex, and CGI. I’ve always honed my skills with fine art. I can paint and draw, but sculpting is my favorite… Was that good? Oh, ah, I also love animals. I’ve been feeding this stray cat outside of my studio. He’s only got one ear and half a tail, but I’ve seen him take down a couple dumpster dogs.”

#bio

The meeting could have been an email; hell, the meeting could have excluded Artie completely, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. He cursed himself for letting the word “mandatory” scare him into going when he could have skipped it without consequence. Now he was stuck in a room of people who didn’t bother to know his name, fighting to focus, quickly finding that his leg bounce had reached its limit of usefulness. This left him twisting the end of his mustache with the pads of his fingers to alleviate the anxiety that coursed through his system. He needed to be moving, creating, but as always he found himself lacking the grace and patience it took to sit down and shut up. He needed some fresh air, a smoke; fuck it, he needed a joint.

“Yes, genius.” He finally said, standing with manufactured confidence, still unsure of exactly what he was agreeing with. When not a single pair of eyes shot his way Artie took advantage of his social camouflage to make his exit. The weight in his chest lifted the farther he walked away from the boardroom, and as soon as the LA smog outside hit his lungs his hand was digging for his cigarettes in his front shirt pocket. “Next meeting I’m forced to attend, I’m putting squibs on my chest.” The rant came out as he tapped the bottom of the pack before pulling one out, rolling the filter between his fingers, as his stooped frame paced back and forth. It wasn’t until his fourth puff that he noticed the unfamiliar eyes on his erratic display. “Um, always have an escape plan... Right?”

#tumblr has been a god damn joke #like not letting me post anything #trash #cosstarters #also idk what this is so do what you want with it

esmenunz

Awards season was in full swing, which meant Esme’s nights were filled with screenings, parties, panels and events – all of which were attended for work reasons, not for pleasure – and her days furiously typing away on her laptop while drinking coffee like it was water. After wrapping up an interview, she decided a change of scenery was needed in order to get her writing muse going enough to get these last few articles done before the following days deadline. Unfortunately, with it being the afternoon in Los Angeles, Esme wasn’t the only one with the bright idea to attend the local coffee shop. After grabbing her cup of tea and sandwich, she let out a soft sigh as she scanned the room for an open seat. With no options in sight but refusing to return to her desk back at Endeavor, she approached the nearby table with an empty chair. “Do you mind if take a seat? Next round of coffee is on me?”

artiebhatt

Artie was pretty sure if he inhaled one more speck of silicone dust it was going to solidify the walls of his lungs. There wasn’t any science to back that up, but he had left the realms of science way before he found himself reading his worn copy of Jurassic Park in the busy LA coffee shop; hiding from responsibilities like work and, god forbid, paying bills. The chatter surrounding him had only helped to encase him in his more personal hobbies, book folded in half in one hand while the other blind sketched the dinosaurs he read about in between sips of his overpriced coffee. When the voice obstructed by his laser focus asked to take a seat he was quick to agree with a slight nod. It wasn’t until he finished his chapter that his gaze came to meet the beautiful stranger causing his eyes to widen as he practically choked inhaling sip from his cup. Artie Bhatt, smooth as always.

“Wow,” he mumbled, further making a fool of himself before clearing his throat sheepishly, “sorry. I’m usually a more accommodating host.” Trying to recover with a self deprecating chuckle Artie placed his book down to push his mop of locks out of his face as if that could somehow magically fix his appearance like a shy girl in the movies taking off her glasses. “But,” he continued, finally recovered from the sight of the woman across from him “that seat isn’t rent controlled, so I’m sorry to inform you but the cost is gonna be two coffees. I’ll wave the scone security deposit, but don’t let anyone know I went easy on ya.”