Christina Catherine Martinez is a writer, actor, art critic, comedian and Los Angeles native who was named in 2020 to Vulture’s Comedians You Should Know as well as TimeOutLA’s Comic to Watch lists. Martinez has performed on FXX’s late-night showcase, Cake, and has written for Adult Swim’s The Eric Andre Show. She is the creator and host of the live comedy talk show Aesthetical Relations. Martinez sat down with me to talk about how she got involved in LA’s burgeoning clown community, and how she separates her outer selves, the art critic from the comedian, and the comedian from the clown.
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This transcript has been edited and condensed only slightly for your convenience.
A big part of the act is not being ashamed.
Is it difficult because you come at it first as a journalist and as a critic yourself so you already know and then you have to you have to overcome that hurdle?
I don't know. It's not that I come to it like I'm a journalist approaching comedy. It really is separate and informed by both, but just as a person and as a woman, I think through frankly just doing stand-up and comedy now for eight years, almost, and also then getting into the clown work — part of it is learning to trust just that initial spark or piece of inspiration or inexplicable impulse to do X, Y or Z, put shrimp on my face, hump this body pillow, make this particular joke — I've gotten better at listening to that but then immediately after, you know, my ego, my socialized self kicks in and I'm just like, no, that's what makes you happy? That's the thing you want to do? And it's tricky because, a lot of people talk about oh, you know, losing your ego, and you gotta like get rid of your ego self and don't be egotistical. It's really sort of, what we think of as egotistical when we meet someone who’s, their egos too big. It's actually the opposite. Their ego is very weak. And so they get sort of bandied about too easily.
The last time I saw you in person face-to-face was the last time I went to Los Angeles in February, when you were doing an event in character leading a public tour at The Museum of Contemporary Art. So how did you feel after that?
I was kind of in a fugue state. I mean, that's the paradox of, you know, performance is that it's the fundamental tension I have between being a writer and being a performer which is, you know, the former is sort of predicated on retaining memories and sensations long enough to record them. But the latter is, as the performer when I really feel like I succeed, or at least I'm very present, it actually makes it almost impossible to really remember what I did. I mean, it was recorded. I remember feeling very, very calm and very flat, like I had just gone through the eye of a storm. But I did feel a lot of, yeah, it was embarrassing but my embarrassment came more from a) the fact that I think a lot of there were some people who didn't really know that it was a character so that I was embarrassed thinking that this is what people think I really am. And then embarrassed that there were some moments when I really did — a lot of it was improvised, but a lot of it was just taken from other parts of my act and things that I had written so there were a few moments where I really did just kind of blank out because it was just such an intense, strange thing to do. And so I got embarrassed that I brain farted but then also I was able to use that for the character. And at the end of the day, it was hard to know how I felt because it was such a weird. There wasn't a whole lot of precedent for what I was doing. So like who's to say what it's supposed to look like when it goes “well,” they literally, I'm giving a walkthrough I'm giving a tour basically of a real art exhibit. Not just as a comedian, which has been done before but as a character, and the character actually doesn't get what the work is about, but me as a critic, does on some level and has to filter that through this character who's “stupid.” And then also at the end of the day, it needs to be funny because it was actually the artist’s idea. She had the idea of allowing a comedian to do a walkthrough of the show. And then I pitched it this way, because if you had like a traditional or conventional comic doing that as themselves, it would have been a different thing. But because I'm an actual critic, if I had tried to do that walkthrough as myself and being funny, it would just not be as — it would be like a little bit clever and haha, but I just felt like to really get at the comedy that I think she was looking for. It's almost I had to take on this persona of someone who doesn't really get the work, right.
Especially considering as I looked around, there were definitely people in that tour group who didn't know that this was not an ordinary tour.
Yeah, they didn't know it was like a performance.
Yeah, they just thought they were on a tour. That added comedy for me as a spectator knowing what was going on.
That blows my mind because to me that character is such a heightened stereotyped parody. It's crazy to me that anyone not knowing would like not get right away that that's a character.
There were people there with small children.
I know. I was worried about that. But this is art. We showed them the statue of David we can show them this lady talking about her pussy.
Just don't show them drag. I've been fascinated with your career for a little while now. Not just because it's fascinating, but also because I am someone who I'm now a comedy critic, but I did it sort of in a roundabout way, where I was a hard news newspaper reporter who ended up joining an improv group on the side. And then when my editor when my editors found out that I was doing comedy at night, sent me on more outrageous stories, such as I had an editor had me try out for Ringling Brothers one time.
Improv skills are probably really good skills for a reporter to have, right?
But then I became an entertainment reporter. And then eventually, I dropped performing and just became a critic.
So the opposite way.
That’s why I'm fascinated by your journey. So I had Frankie Quinones on the podcast, going back and looking at his Cholofit videos, I noticed a young, short-coiffed, Christina Catherine Martinez.
I was in the original Cholofit.
Actually before Cholofit, it was a slightly different concept that I had a bigger part in, and it was called Cholo Whisperer. It was basically a riff on Dog Whisperer. I played part of a couple that had adopted Frankie. I could see where I guess it didn't, I thought it was hilarious. It was basically like a guy that came to the house and told us how to like make your Cholo feel at home. Cholo Whisperer but then Chlolofit is what really took off. I think I just met Frankie through doing stand-up around town. And he asked me to be part of the sketch. And that was the first thing that kind of blew up, you know, like, I'm just in the background of that, you know, doing the exercises.
I had people stop me on the street about that video. You know, it was on WorldStarHipHop. And at the time, I was just like, I don't need Sundance. I don't need JFL. I don't need Vulture, I don’t need any of it, like Worldstar it's like I've arrived. You know what I mean?
Where were you in your comedy journey at that point? You met Frankie at the clubs?
Very early, not at clubs, like at indie shows around town. I think I would have remembered. That was really early on. I think I would have just started this other job that I had. I was probably like barely a year in. I think the show that we met at was just some bar show in Silverlake. But I was at the point in my journey where you know, that was the grind for me. It's just going to different bar shows an indie shows checking things out and trying to get booked on them. You know, I had a whole not system I guess, but I'd be like, Oh, if there was a show that seemed like I wanted to get on it. I would go. See it. Say hi. You know, be like I want to be on your show blah blah blah.
Just like hundreds of other people.
I was barely a year in and I was just on that grind of like trying to get out of open mics and just onto more booked shows. At least in LA, there's lots of levels so it's just like trying to move from the open mic level to just like indie shows bar shows, things like that.
What was the impetus? What was that first moment that made you even go to the open mics to begin with?
I was going further along in my art. I don't want to say art career because I'm definitely more definitely an artist now in a way that I wasn't then. But I was furthering my career in the art world, which ostensibly should have made me feel happy or accomplished and I just wasn't. I was getting further along in writing and then I was running a gallery, which even if I had never became a performer, I don't think the commercial gallery route was necessarily my path, either. Even in the context of the art world. So I started and I realized that the art world which is an amazing crazy, weird, fun place to be and to exist in, was just taking up so much of my emotional, intellectual social life. I wanted to do something creative for myself. So I just started taking, actually I ran into a friend from high school, because I did a lot of theater in high school, but also carried the idea that like, that's not something that I could do seriously. You know what I mean?
You grew up in LA, right?
So I ran into a friend from high school just down the street, a guy that was very, very talented that I did a lot of theater with in high school, and he continued on and he's a working actor now. And I was telling him about what I was doing. And it's funny because he was so shocked that I was an art critic, which was not what anyone at high school would have imagined me as. I was just like a crazy theater girl. And then he was like, oh, you're so funny, though. Like you should get into improv or something like, I don't know my. I was like, Yeah, that sounds fun. So I started taking improv classes at iO West. Just for me, I just thought that I just felt like I needed some some sort of creative outlet that was very low stakes that had nothing to do with the art world and that could just be something for me. And I was still in denial about what I what I really wanted, because I was like, OK, well, this will just be a little outlet to get my ya-yas out. That way I could be a serious writer, art writer. And I went through the whole program. I got on a house team. I was still working as a director of this international art gallery trying to squeeze in being on a Harold house Harold team at iO which is, you know, a lot of work because it's at least two nights you know, you have your weekly show, and then you have your practice. And then you have to like, just and then I'm just trying to wrangle being in the same place every week with like eight other people who are are trying to be actors and who generally work at night. And I have these social obligations connected to being a gallery director, being at openings, you know, it was just a lot. I had so much fun and I was a good improviser but I think like my team felt it and a lot of people felt it. I got, I will never forget this. This pissed me off so much. I had a lot of clashes with sort of the culture of improv. Because at the time it was for me like just a way to have fun. It was really hard to have fun with people who are also trying to be actors and comedians and brought a lot of stakes. Some of the best improvisers I've ever worked with people who were just like doctors or had day jobs and were doing it for fun because I'm like, this is it. This is all I'm getting out of it. So I want this to be nice and it just felt like that was going against all this weird shit everyone else was bringing to it. There was a guy on my improv team who like asked me out for a drink. You know, we had never really hung out outside of our team. And I thought, like, oh, OK, cool, like we're gonna be friends or maybe he's asking me on a date. I'm not sure what's going on. But like, Yay, this is nice. He, he like sat me down. We had our drinks and he's like, Thank you for meeting me. You know, I just wanted to talk about, you know, your commitment to the team. And that like, you're so talented. And I love having you but it's like, you know, we just really need you to step it up in terms of you know, you miss these practices. He's not even our coach. He’s just another guy on the team asked me out for drinks, for drinks. And I'm like, Oh, this could be a date. No big deal. Either way, just like I was excited that we were like now that we were at least going to be friends and I'm like, he's shaming me for not being dedicated enough to this team. And I'm like, motherfucker, like, I have a job, like a real career. Being in my mind. I was like, being really bitchy and pulling rank like, I just, I oversee the transport of priceless artworks! I sell things that cost millions of dollars and who the fuck are you?! I just checked out because in general, this is not for you. No, this is supposed to be fun, and you're making it a bummer. And then shortly after I got kicked off of the team, and they were like, Oh. It was such a such a thing. It's just really funny. The Creative Director of iO at the time, I don't even remember his name. It just felt very strange to me. I think by this time, I was like, I had left that other job and I was working at a startup. I had already been fired from that other job, my art world job. I was working at a startup. I don't know, it just felt like there was this big disconnect between how serious everyone was taking it and what I was getting out of it. And they were like, well, you know. I felt like I was getting fired from a tech company. They kind of give me just long like, this is not very, maybe just a good fit, you know, the dynamic is off, but we're going to put you on probation. And then in six months, you can try out for another team. And I was just done. I mean, I got a lot out of it because I hadn't really had any kind of comedy or improv training since high school. So I mean, it did help me become, set the foundation for me to be a better a better actor and a better performer but I was just like, you know what? I said like thank you for everything, but I'm gonna just forget it. You know, I'm gonna go try doing like a form of comedy that will be logistically easier. And then maybe people will come see. I literally started doing stand-up because I just, logistically couldn't deal — logistically, culturally, spiritually. I couldn't deal with improv anymore. I'm like, well, at least, you know, standup is something I can do by myself. And there's open mics all the time and I just Googled open mics and I started doing that. I can't quite remember I think it was only a few mics in, you know, because I'm not an idiot. And improv did help, at least in terms of stage presence. So I think like, Yeah, I think it was barely just like two mics in. And I was like, Oh, my God, like, Yeah, this is, this is it. Like this is where I want to be.
How long after that before you made the short film with Josh Fadem?
Well, that was very shortly after that. Yeah, that was pretty early on. Once I made that commitment, because I was still doing improv. I was kind of doing both, like trying to do improv and then kind of going to some open mics when I got fired from my gallery job because it was clear to them I wasn't actually committed to being a gallery director. So then I had my first year of doing stand-up, I was fortunate enough I was on unemployment, so I really really, I made it a point to treat stand-up like it was a job while I was on unemployment. So the first year I was going really hard. I was doing mics all the time. Going to a lot of shows which you need. I mean, it wasn't work in the sense that like, it was difficult, but I really loved it. The short with Josh, I think was shortly after. Because I realized I wanted to make videos, I wanted to make movies and I remember thinking like, oh, I want to make a sketch, but I didn't have.I had an iPhone 6. I was like, Well, you know, there's apps you can, it has a camera on it. But then I realized that like, oh, there's no, the sound is so bad on an iPhone and I don't really have any way of, I have no idea how to make that better or what that even looks like you know? So I'm like, well then OK, it's a silent film, you know? And then I crafted this whole idea around like a silent film around this girl and her jacket. And then I just asked Josh to be on it because I had done a couple shows with him. I didn't know him very well. But he was very sweet. I promised him I was like, I was very specific in my ask. I said this is the short. This is what I want to film with you we all meet here. I knew it was in the neighborhood. He lived close by at the time like it will take like an hour or less to get your part down. He was like Yes. And I was so grateful and so thankful. And I think Josh is such a great, great artist and a good guy. He was like, I respect people who do stuff and I like what you do and I like that you're just like out there getting it done. So I'm like happy to collaborate or help you if I can. Everything about what I'm doing now, everything that I've learned about being an actor or a filmmaker, especially as I'm getting more into that side of things, it's just been trial by error and everything that I've made along the way has been me trying to learn or figure out a specific problem or aspect of filmmaking. And that first one, for sure, every creative choice in that in that short, which I don't even think is great. I mean, it's like I was trying to figure out how to make a comedy sketch and it doesn't really, it's like seven minutes, which is way too long. It's like kind of edited, it's like not that funny. And but you know, every creative choice in there was was in response to a creative limitation. So I've just been like, learning how to make things in response to what I don't know and then trying to figure out the next thing that I don't know and the next thing that I don't know. And now I'm directing the next Avengers movie, so it really can go from there.
Yeah, you just have to yes-and your way to the top.
Josh is a bit of a clown, but he's not a clown clown.
I think he's, I think he's one of like the purest clowns I've ever met. He just doesn't need any. He's ready made, he's fully cooked. He doesn't need to be labeled or part of the community or to go through any kind of system of training in order to be that.
I guess I was trying to get into how you fill in with the clown crew of Los Angeles. Is there a formal name for the group?
The thing about the clown scene, it's not a word I thought would ever come out of my mouth. It's pretty expansive. There's the clown school there's, you know, the scene that's gathered around the Elysian, there's PDA, which is another performance space in Altadena, there's Wet the Hippo, which is more like idiot work and not to get into the semantics of different types of like clown, but our group right now is would just be called Clown Zoo, I suppose. And that came together under my first clown teacher Phil Burgers, aka Dr. Brown.
This was still like six or seven years ago. I was like maybe two years into stand-up getting better. I think. Just that first year of just doing it so nonstop really helped. And I had no conception of, other than sketch, improv, stand up, I had no conception of what like live comedy could be so I was kind of doing weird stuff but still doing it at bars and open mics and whatever show I could. And I did a show at Lyric Hyperion and Dr. Brown who I had no idea who he was. We'd never met. I had no idea who he was at the time, just came up to me and he's, I did a stand-up show but he was like, Hey, that was pretty good. And I said thanks. And he's like, you know, you got the clown and I said, OK. And then he said, you know, oh, you should take, I'm teaching these clown classes. You should take my class, and I was just really intrigued by stand-up is I think it's less so, but I don't think it's bullshit. I think stand-ups have a hard time being giving each other constructive criticism, like I really wanted to get better at comedy. And it just felt like I think it's fine, you know, in stand-up, no one will really tell you you did bad. No one will really tell you what's not working. And I get it it's just so fucking hard to do it and it takes so much to get up there like everyone just wants to be encouraging but I think the description of Dr. Brown's class is something like this workshop is not for everybody, because sometimes people think I mean, because I will tell you when something you did is not funny. And if that doesn't work for you, then maybe this workshop isn't for you. But I was actually drawn to the idea of him being mean, or just someone who would really who would actually just say like, if you don't have a problem admitting that what you did on stage was not funny and no one really got it, then you might get something out of this.
But at the time, you weren't aware of his comedy pedigree?
No.
That he had studied in France and that he won major prizes in Edinburgh.
He's a very important dumbass and that this is a whole other type of comedy discipline that's important in Europe. It's becoming more important here. So his class was really really intense. I do wish there was more like long term intensive clown workshops in LA. I think a lot of them are sort of short-term or introductory. His workshops were like 8-10 hours a week for like six weeks and I did them for like two or three years in a row. And then from from those classes, Phil actually put together, what I would call the earliest iteration of this group that is now Clown Zoo. So Phil kind of put us together just from people being in his different classes and we had a weekly show at Lyric Hyperion for a while. We would do these basically, I would say clown plays. We would have like a weekly show, which was sort of a live directed clown show. But we would actually use that show to generate material that would turn into like a full hour long, original play, and then we would have like a short run of the play, and then just like start over, so we had this whole system going and then we all kind of disbanded during COVID. We'd actually made a series of shorts for FX.
The Two Pink Doors series.
Yeah, Two Pink Doors was Phil's pitch to FX, behind our backs, like we were just doing our weekly shows. And in my mind, I thought like clown isn't going to do anything for me. I'm going to be a stand up. Stand-up is what's going to launch my career. But the clown work is so fun, and it's so fulfilling and I think it just serves me as a performer in general that I had committed to being in that clown group. It's funny because in the back of my mind, I was like, well, the clown will never go anywhere, but I just love it. So I'm gonna stay with it. And then out of nowhere we go into rehearsal one day and he's like, he basically gave us the pitch that he gave FX. So they said, OK, and like, do you guys like, does that sound cool to you? Like you guys want to make a TV show? And we were like, what? Yes.
We made a couple of rounds of shorts and then COVID kind of made it all fall far away and disappear and we kind of disbanded. And then Natalie Palamides sort of had the idea, or I think it was actually Corey Podell, who was not originally in our clown group, but Corey is is part of Clown Zoo now. I think the group is the same except Corey Podell wasn't in it then. We just sort of came back together on our own terms to start doing those weekly shows in the park. So after like a couple years, we sort of came together, started doing these weekly shows in the park. It took off because it was during COVID and a silent masked outdoor brunch time pandemic era clown show was one of the few performance entertainment opportunities available. And then once performance started coming back, that has become a monthly show at Elysian and actually, but the core of that started with these like, weekly free outdoor shows that we do at the abandoned zoo at Griffith Park.
A true Clown Zoo.
I mean, that's why we call it Clown Zoo. It's just it's funny because that trajectory is so long, and when I think about like the magic of our group, a lot of it is just that we've just been playing together for so long. And it's funny too, because I think we have our trajectory as a group, but everyone in the group has their own career as well. And so, while this is happening, I'm also still just performing and building my career as a stand-up and an actor and a writer. But it is increasingly stand-up and clown and being a critic. I used to try to have these all in very separate funnels, and just the more I progress in general, the more these things are just all in fact, one another. And then once in a while I really get to do a project that really just puts all that together. And I think what you saw at the museum was one of them, because it is basically an act of criticism to be walking through, to do this museum show in this way through this character who has a different point of view, but I also know that it was like, dumb as hell.
That's part of the fun of it.
oh, that's part of the that's part of the beauty and it always feels like my brain and my heart are being pulled in opposite directions all the time. And I always felt like I had to resolve that in some way. And it's actually I don't think it's ever going to be resolved. And I think if what I do succeeds at all in a way that I appreciate or enjoy, it's just that I'm constantly balancing that tension and also you know, it's so hard to be dumb. I think it's harder it'd be dumb to be smart, to be really like genius stupid in the way that clowns can be is to me more difficult than being an intellectual, which is just a lot of you know, memorizing, having the right references. I mean to be crass about it. I think there's definitely such a thing as being a true intellectual but so much of it gets watered down to just sort of like sharing the right kind of jargon.
That's why back when I performed I always loved improv more than stand-up, because stand-up just felt like memorizing something than trying to be funny.
I loved doing improv, but just I didn't like the community. I always love doing stand up. And I love it like still. I think if I ever had a sort of antipathy toward one or the other, it was probably improv. Like, even when I was doing it as like, stand-up was so much cooler, or I think actually, maybe because I am a writer because even when I was doing improv, I'd still you know, had this background as a journalist and, I mean, I think writer is a very, very fundamental core part of just who I am and what I do even as a performer, so, I appreciated stand-up even as a form of writing. It didn't bother me that it's like, oh, this is rehearsed. I'm just like, oh, this is such like, it's so interesting. I thought stand-ups were such great writers and I just liked that there was another way of going about it.
Back when there were newspaper jobs to interview for, I would always tell editors, as soon as I started doing improv and stand-up. Improv changed my reporting style. It transformed it completely. Because suddenly I realized that even writing about the city council was writing to an audience. So I had to hold their attention and the best way to do that was to just let it flow. What's the next thing that happens in the story?
Yeah, I would say, clown specifically, made me a better art critic. It’s sort of difficult to explain, but I think a lot of clown has to do with trusting your instincts and and being as like, plain and open and honest as you can. And having fun, you know, in a way. I felt like there was some part of myself that I was not being true to by being just an art writer. And then, ironically, and I thought that by doing comedy that was going to be my exit from the art world, not least of which because I'm like, there's no way anyone's gonna take me seriously as an art critic once they find out I'm also a comedian. Kind of the opposite has happened. And it's interesting that I think even doing comedy helped me to like stay in love with criticism and journalism and even writing in that way, which is, you know, what is still a part of like my income and my work and like what I do for a living.
It's funny, you mentioned Natalie. Natalie was on my podcast pre pandemic. And I just get such a kick out of knowing that most of America only sees Natalie as this Progressive Insurance character. The ones that get to see her onstage see this maniac who's just like pure chaotic joy. And you get to do that with her stuff in like Swan Leak.
I feel very lucky. I think our group is like insanely special, and it's people who I think we're special because everyone just has a different strength and has different backgrounds. I think I'm the only one who came from stand-up, does stand up but like Natalie's always been a crazy ass. You know, Chad. Max has like a dance background. There's a really specific like special alchemy that happens. But we all do other things that we need to do for money. What I respect about Natalie is that she's just not attached to it. You know, it's funny having that experience, especially I think most of us in Clown Zoo but I think pretty much any actor or comedian, in this economy where you have to do you know, have 20 different income streams or do 80 different things. It's interesting when people only see one part of you and then they see another part. I get that with people who read my work in a place like the LA Times or Art Forum, and then they come see a show. And it's like, oh, that's not a side of you that I got at all. I'm like, Well, no, this is a review of a painting show. Like you know, I have there are some boundaries between these different identities.
When you see me and Chad wrestling or writing on stage, that's a different thing.
It's a different form. That’s embodied critique, I would say, well also people have this the art comedy crossover thing is not you know, particularly unique. I know so many art school kids who became comedians and, you know, performance artists who become comedians. But I think because of that people think that, I mean I had no like performance chops or experience at all in the art world. I mostly specialized in just you know, painting and sculpture, the plastic arts. So even when I became a performer, I didn't really have a lot of context, even in terms of performance art, which is you know, now a lot of what people consider. Some people to make it easier, would call me a performance artist. Which is great, and I fully own that. But it wasn't like, oh, I came from performance art into performing comedy. It's like no, I came from just like writing. Maybe not knowing anything about performance writ large, into performing comedy, and then that just became this like almost after learning about how to do comedy, then it sort of like went back and like, got more into performance art and then you know, it all mushes together.
Is Aesthetical Relations, the most symbolic meshing of the worlds?
Oh, oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. It combines so much of like, my love of performance art. It's comedy. It's sort of weird, critical, cultural commentary, but it just incorporates so much of the things that I love about dressing up, talk shows, comedians, making videos and making movies because those are always incorporated into it. It's funny, it's a Gustavklimtswerk, if I may, you know, just like. It's a total work that incorporates, it's one of the few types of things that I do that incorporates every aspect of like my brain and body and performer/writer identities. And that's why I've been like getting more into just filmmaking. I mean, that show does it, but like when I think about making a film, that's also another type of project that incorporates every aspect of my brain and body and performer artist capabilities or tendencies, I suppose.
Are you actively making films now?
It's funny, people don't really see my acting work. I've actually made a few films with this artist named Christopher Richmond. But he is an artist. We made a movie a while ago. It's like a three channel meaning it plays across three screens. So it's more like an installation. It's like a three-hour like sci fi comedy epic, but it's owned by the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. So like, no one will ever see it. We just made another film together that I think will be screened. Definitely in an art context. I'm doing less commercial work. I don't know if you saw the Where's Waldo trailer. It was a fake trailer that I made. It's like a tiny short film that got incorporated into Aesthetical Relations. But that just got me more excited about I have a few short films in the pipeline that I'm working to make before the end of the year and writing a screenplay and just you know, I've always made films, I guess, in some way, but because I was doing it on my phone just in response to all of these limitations or shortcomings, I didn't really think of it that way.
Things have come so far since the iPhone 6.
Yeah, well, also just thinking a little bit more intentionally and expansively like I did my first TV writers room last year. And I don't know if the show was greenlit yet, so I can't really talk about it. But the Head of Development at that network was someone that used to work at Sundance, so they've been sort of helping me figure out how to just like, write a screenplay and apply for these things. And I was very in my head. I'm like, Oh, well, I'm not really this, and they were like, look at all of the shit you've made so far. You are already making films. And it's OK to just sort of like, own that and want to learn more and go to the next level. Part of me loves being just really nimble and like making these these like little things on my phone, but part of me is also very excited to see what happens if I like just invest the time into trying to get more resources to make things on a bigger scale. We'll see what that looks like or how that pans out. For better or worse. I'm very, very resourceful.
The Where’s Waldo short that I made in a day. It's basically the joke is that it's a trailer for the A 24 reboot of Where's Waldo. And I showed it at Aesthetical Relations as part of this larger bit where then like I brought Where's Waldo the character out as a guest, but he was hidden in the audience, so naturally, everyone had to find him. But when I posted the trailer on Instagram as like a joke, a lot of people thought it was real, that for some reason I was starring in an A24 reboot of Where's Waldo. People will still DM once in a while asking where they can watch this. Is it streaming somewhere? And I was like, Oh my god.
It should be.
It should be I mean, this is this is how things happen. Most of the most of the good things that I've either created or went for in my life started out as a joke and then against all reason I commit to it.
Well, Christina Catherine Martinez, whether you're lathered up in condiments, or the next host of at midnight, I eagerly look forward to seeing you in any and all of your endeavors.
Oh, thank you. Very nice talking to you.
It's my pleasure.