Melissa Metyko & The 'Hero's Journey' Of Becoming An Artist
Austin-based multidisciplinary artist, Melissa Metyko delves into the intentional choices she made to influence her artistic destiny and the art forms that inspire her.
By Sarah Gill | 5/1/24
The artist’s journey, much like a hero’s journey, is filled with rejection, redirection, and revisions. Character development happens when we’re presented with challenges. Change can be frustrating, confusing, and often, disappointing, but what’s a plot without conflict? Can we grow without adapting?
Such is the case with our protagonist, Melissa Metyko, a filmmaker, video editor, and storyteller who is a prime example of how change is best handled when embraced. Born in Houston, Texas to textile designer Mihn Metyko and photographer and designer Jimmy Metyko, unlike most artists who have to wrestle with familial expectations, Melissa’s parents hoped she would follow in their footsteps. She giggles recounting a conversation with them, “They were like ‘We are artists, so if you're not, we obviously don't know what to do with you.’”
Melissa gravitated toward traditional mediums of drawing, sketching, and painting at a young age. As an only child, she spent a lot of time with her parents. Their obsession with movies sparked her interest in storytelling.
“Growing up, I would see movies sometimes twice on the weekends. We would just be constantly seeing movies,” Melissa says. This frequent exposure shifted her focus from drawing scenes to writing narratives.
"I had a notebook with me always. I was writing a book at any given moment,” Melissa says. “It was cringy, embarrassing stuff, but it was important and had its place.”
At age 13, Melissa discovered manga and was inspired by “the marriage of visual storytelling and writing”. She wanted to “have a hand in every storytelling element.” This newfound inspiration led Melissa to sign up for a summer filmmaking class, where she recalls watching the 1982 film Blade Runner, cementing her desire to become a filmmaker. “The visuals were unique and striking and beautiful. The story was profound and thought-provoking. I felt like this was who I wanted to be. This is what I want to do.”
She began talking to teachers and counselors proudly exclaiming, “I want to be a filmmaker.” Melissa soon started making movies with a handheld camera and applied to the University of Texas at Austin Film School.
The first of many rejections came when Melissa was deferred to UT’s Coordinated Admission Program (CAP), where she spent a year at UT San Antonio. Rather than wallowing in defeat, she found any resources she could that aided in her journey to film school. She joined the film club at UT San Antonio and would often remind herself “I’m a filmmaker. I’m going to make this my life path.”
Once accepted to the University of Texas at Austin the following year, Melissa jumped in with her sights set on becoming a director. She remembers thinking, “I want to be a director; that’s where my storytelling abilities would shine,” but notes how overwhelming and competitive the position of director is in a film school.
“Everyone wants to be a director; no one wants to be the head gaffer,” Melissa says with laughter.
After grappling with potential roles, Melissa decided to try a different avenue in filmmaking –– producing. Unfortunately, she hated it.
Producing is meticulous. It can be overwhelming delegating tasks, scheduling, organizing all the talent, keeping a budget, and telling everyone where to be and what to do. While managing all of these responsibilities, Melissa found herself missing the opportunity to use her creative abilities.
“There’s so much pressure, with very little reward. There's a reason why the producer accepts the Oscar: they do everything,” Melissa says.
After a disappointing few turns as a producer, Melissa thought to try her hand at screenwriting and quickly fell in love with it. As a lifelong writer, it made sense to try a different format. It was an easy transition into a simplified narrative. “You didn't have to write the world around you. You just write what characters are saying and create a blueprint, sort of, like a director would about what the world should look like.”
In her final year at UT Austin, Melissa felt lost when it came to what direction to take. As Melissa weighed her options, she felt “discouraged from jumping right into Los Angeles and starting from the bottom and moving my way up, especially since that sort of like ‘start sweeping the floors until you make your way to the executive’ isn't the thing anymore.”
As Melissa lamented the need for connections, the advantage of being independently wealthy, and the benefits of privilege and nepotism, if that were not enough, she also found herself questioning if she wanted to go to LA and “join that rat race” around the same time the MeToo Movement was gaining traction and the Harvey Weinstein scandal was near its height.
“Life isn’t very kind to women in LA, kind to anyone really, especially women of color, which was all intimidating to me,” Melissa says. “Maybe there are stories of people making it just from their hard work and effort, but now more so now than ever, it just seemed like that wasn't the case.”
When Melissa graduated, she felt like she had spent years in limbo, trying to figure out what to do next. When calculating her next steps she thought, “I know I want to be a storyteller. I just know that's what I’m good at.”
After much deliberation, Melissa took an unexpected route. She decided to move back to San Antonio, taking a year off after graduating to work for a church, hoping to figure out her faith and a direct career path.
Then, another blindsiding redirection: The COVID-19 Pandemic. No longer working in ministry, Melissa realized her vital need for an income and soon found a video editing position. During this time, she took all of her creative energy and put it towards her first novel. She finished her manuscript and realized the next step in her journey was to become a fiction author.
“I finished that and I was like ‘Oh my, god it doesn't matter what I have to do to make money. At the end of the day, I want to be a fiction author.’” Although stressful at first, Melissa says, “The transition was valuable. Meeting new people, being in a new environment, and learning that San Antonio is actually a really cool, creative city.”
Even though Melissa was confident in her choice to become a video editor, she was very candid about her occasional struggles with comparison. “I saw my friends, especially 21 and 22, move out to LA. It seems that there's an emotion of jealousy, but also feeling like I knew it wasn't for me, watching them, seeing their daily lives. Having to work in a big store to make money, or some bartending, you know, constantly promoting themselves, promoting their portfolio, looking for work. I don't know if that's for me. I like being in control of things. I don't wanna subject myself to more uncertainty.”
Now in 2024, Melissa is preparing for two new transitions: marriage and a new city. When asked about all these changes she says, “I think the move, while intimidating, isn't so much impactful as that I'm getting married.” But she still conveys her dismay at having to put her writing on hold.
“I've had to put my author goals on pause because all my money and all my creative energy is going towards video editing to pay for our wedding,” Melissa says.
Yet she reminds herself that there’s no shame in taking a break from one’s passions to pursue financial stability.
After the chaos of wedding planning and moving, Melissa is looking forward to living in the unique and historic city of New Orleans. “I’m very motivated by the places I'm surrounded by, my environment. Even if I’ve been working from home knowing I’m in this city that's creative does something to my brain. I feel like I can do something and be something there.” She is also encouraged by the stability of a dual-income household. “I'm very fortunate that my position might allow me to pursue my dreams more.”
Alternatively, Melissa feels quite a bit of apprehension. The freedom to pursue a writing career requires the strength to be honest with oneself. As the previous excuses fade away, one has to be diligent to not come up with new excuses. I don't have enough time, I’ve been so swamped at work, and I have so many commitments! might no longer apply.
“Now I need to practice what I preach,” Melissa says. “Even just calling myself an author. It can be so easy to say ‘Well, I’m not published.’”
To see some of Melissa’s work, give her a follow on Instagram.
PHOTO: Kyle Bowden @grainytexmex
About the Author:
Sarah J. Gill is a nonfiction writer and poet currently working in the fragrance industry. She is an avid baker and a proud member of a nonperforming choir. She is tall, beautiful, and easily overwhelmed. If you like her work, please kindly keep it to yourself as she can not bear the weight of perception. She lives in San Antonio, Texas with her cat, Guinevere.