Starting from Scratch

four nice people tell us about the time they cast their lives aside to start again.

INTERVIEWS SOPHIE KALAGAS

Cassie Lucas

I worked in landscape architecture for around seven years. If you think about architecture and all the elements that go into that, it’s the same thing, but outside, from residential design to public parks. My interest was always in more temporary spaces, like art installations – it makes a lot of sense to me now.

I worked in an office in Amsterdam for two years, giving landscape architecture a red hot go. When I came back, I got a job teaching at RMIT. There’d be book and exhibition launches, and because I’d always worked in a deli, it was my job to get cheese and salami and stuff like that. They asked me to do a party for 250 people, and I was like, “Sure, let’s give it a go.” I loved that I could create the atmosphere; do all the visual stuff; collaborate with lots of people – that was a light bulb moment.

I never said, “Today, I’m starting Firecracker.” It was more of an organic thing that happened over about 18 months. Firecracker is a food and events business. We do styling, planning, graphic design, stationery – that kind of thing. I love creating feelings at different events through food and props.

It was a hard decision to leave landscape architecture. I was proud of the work I’d been doing, and felt like I was part of something. I was worried what people would think of me, giving up this ‘proper job’ for more casual stuff. But it got to the point where I was like, why keep working on someone else’s business and helping them grow, while only spending 50 per cent of my time and energy on my thing? Then it’ll never be anything, will it?

Going full-time on Firecracker in 2013 was petrifying. I was so scared. I didn’t have much cash in the bank, and didn’t know how it would go. The hardest thing was doing everything. With a small business, you’re the accountant, the business manager, the kitchen manager and the admin assistant. I hadn’t really prepared myself for all that. I had no interest in accounting or bookwork; I still don’t.

Over time, I’ve learnt to ask for help. I didn’t do it at the beginning; I’m severely independent, to my detriment. I’ve become open to delegating and saying, “I’m struggling, can you help me?” Building a business has given me a great confidence and belief in myself. When I started Firecracker, I was basically working out of a home office, hiring a kitchen on a needs basis. Now, we’ve nearly finished fitting out our second space. We’ve worked for some amazing people. Without a doubt, I made the right decision.

Daniel Gray-Barnett

I never knew what I wanted to do for a career. At school, my marks were pretty good all round, and I had this big science versus art dilemma – I didn’t know what the career options were for the art path, though. People with good enough marks usually did medicine or law, so they seemed like obvious options. My parents were pretty happy I was thinking about medicine – they didn’t push me, but they wanted me to do my best, and something that would be good for me.

Medical science is a three-year degree. Most people go on to do post-graduate medicine, so that was my plan. It was really interesting, because you do stuff like anatomy and playing with cadavers, but about halfway through, I felt like I was just going through the motions. Other people were really excited about what they were doing, but I didn’t feel the same. It made me realise I didn’t want it as badly, and maybe I shouldn’t be a doctor if that was the case. I finished the course, but only because I didn’t know what else to do.

I worked for a pharmaceutical company for a few years. The pay was good, but it wasn’t making me happy. I wanted to feel excited about going to work every day. I’d always liked music and playing instruments; I was really into bands and went to a lot of gigs. One day, I was googling and found that TAFE did a music business course, so I decided to quit my job and go back to study.

People were like, “You’re so brave to quit, it must be really hard.” For me, it would be much harder to stay. This seemed like an easy decision, to do something I wanted. I was 25 when I went back to TAFE. Because I’d been through one round of study, I knew what was expected of me, and was a bit more focused. Trying to juggle work and TAFE while paying rent and bills was a bit of a hurdle, but I worked shifts at a pub on weekends to get by.

The music business course helped me figure out what I ultimately wanted to do. I had to make a fake gig poster as an assignment, and loved it – that got me looking into illustration, which sounded perfect for me. It’s so unrealistic for kids to choose what they want to study straight out of school. There’s a lot you just don’t know about. People change their minds all the time, and it’s totally OK to do that. Just find something that matters to you.

Lyndal Kilgannon

I met my ex on RSVP. We dated and moved in fairly quickly; it got serious, and we talked about getting married a lot, so we saved up for a house, then ran away to New York to elope. It was so much fun! We’d been together for 10 or 11 years by that point.

A few months later, I was like, something isn’t right. It was a quiet voice in my gut that I couldn’t ignore. I had the house, dogs, a good job, and now the husband. I thought, this is it, I’ve got everything I’ve been told I should have – but something was off. We gave it about a year, then I said, “You know as well as I do, I’m calling it.” Neither of us was happy, so I moved out. It was so confronting. I never dreamed I’d be single and alone at 33. Giving up my ‘perfect life’ to start again from scratch – what the heck?

It was appealing and terrifying at once. I felt very isolated, because all my friends were in long-term relationships, getting married, having kids. Meanwhile, no one was obliged to check in to see how I was doing; if there were financial problems, there was no back-up, just me. But how many people get a second chance to create the life of their dreams, knowing exactly who they are and what they like? That was amazing – I could do whatever I wanted; I could live overseas, take a new job, anything.

I had to learn the dating game again, it was really bizarre. The guys I met were so full on – they wanted wives, and it was all a bit much. I thought, just do what you love; you’re not half a person looking to be completed. Know yourself, find out who you are, get a busy life, then go back to it. It’s been really good, because now I know it’s OK not to say yes to a second date. Just have fun with it and see where it goes, without any expectations.

When you’re part of a team for so long, the biggest thing is getting to know yourself in such an independent way. Rediscovering who I am as a person has been a huge upside of this change. Also, the unexpected gifts – meeting new people (as crazy as some of them are), and friendships that have become so much deeper. I’ve learnt that nothing lasts forever, but not in a bad way. It means you don’t take anything for granted, and really live in the moment, appreciating what you’ve got. I never thought this is where I’d be at this time in my life, but I’m really, genuinely happy.

Ai Nishimoto

I am 100 per cent Japanese – I’ve lived my whole life in Osaka. I was born there, worked as an artist there, and in other hospitality jobs. Some friends moved to Japan from other countries, and I loved speaking English with them. I’m also really interested in the art culture in other places, so I decided I wanted to live somewhere else.

I met some people from Melbourne in Osaka. I also searched the internet for artists I liked, and many of them lived in Melbourne, too. I thought, I should go there! I’d never been to Australia before. I was so nervous, because I’d never lived anywhere except with my family.

When I moved here nearly two years ago, the biggest hurdle was the language. It’s hard to understand the Australian accent – in Japan, we learn with an American accent. I was very confused at first. My friend here introduced her friends to me, and I was so lucky, because I found a sharehouse in just five days. I was worried I couldn’t live with other people, but it was so nice, because I got lots of information from my flatmates, and they were really kind and funny.

I found a job at a local café. It was hard to communicate, but I’d worked in hospitality before, so I knew what to do. My co-workers asked about Japanese culture; they were very kind. I taught them some Japanese and practised my English, so we had an exchange. For me, food was the most foreign thing. Japanese food here is so expensive! I’m really interested in vegan and vegetarian cooking – it’s hard to find in Japan, because people eat everything.

I was most excited about starting from scratch as an artist in another country. In Japan, I was doing work by myself; Japanese people like to be alone. Here, I collaborated with my friend – it’s a new way to work for me. It’s more relaxed and easier to communicate. Many people understood my work, I was surprised.

I’m proud of my life here. I have lots of good memories, like going to the river to swim and feeling part of nature. I’m a student now, studying business and marketing. I got more confidence in myself, and had many challenges. Sometimes I feel homesick, but not often. I miss my friends and family, but we keep in contact by the internet, so I feel better these days. The best advice for someone moving somewhere new is to be positive and expect good things. It took around a year, but Melbourne feels like home.