Five Big Questions: Paco de Leon

Plus a few things I found helpful, resonant, and wise.

Welcome to this week’s installment of Five Big Questions, the short interview series where awesome people share a bit about who they are and what moves them.

Today’s guest is Paco de Leon, a musician who happens to be killer at finance.

Paco is the founder of The Hell Yeah Group, and Hell Yeah, Bookkeeping, dedicated to giving people the tools for better finances. She is also the author (and illustrator!) of Finance for the People, which may be the most readable book ever written on the topic, and host of the Weird Finance podcast. Her free weekly newsletter, the Nerdletter, is a personal favorite.

Because “making contributions to the artist community is pretty much like, my whole thing,” Paco cofounded the non-profit Allies in Arts, with the mission to support artists who identify as womxn, BIPOC, and LGBTQQIA2S — all of whom are underrepresented in creative industries. Last but definitely not least, she is the singer and guitarist in a band called Mister Fantasy. She lives in Los Angeles.

Here’s Paco in her own words:

What’s one thing you struggle with that people might be surprised to hear?
I am not very organized. My backpack, which serves as my business woman’s briefcase, has shit just floating around at the bottom. Squished papers, candy, erasers, multiple sets of hard-wired headphones. I have to go against my nature to be organized.

What’s one thing you’re proud of?
My relationship with my partner. We’ve been together for ages. We choose love everyday. People say marriage takes “work.” To me, I think being in a healthy, long-lasting relationship forces you to continuously work on yourself. That self-work translates into me being able to come into the partnership whole. And it gives me tools to work through all the times I act like an asshole because I’m hungry.

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever heard?
The first lesson my first boss at my first real job taught me was the importance of managing other people’s expectations. This translates really well as a business owner, a collaborator, and someone that chooses to put their work out into the public. 

The second lesson from my second boss at my second real job was that arrogance and ignorance is the most lethal combination in the world.

What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever read?
I keep a long list in the notes app on my phone of phrases that I find interesting, beautiful, and provocative. The note is titled “phrases” and I refer to it when I sit down to write songs. I love this practice (maybe every writer has some version of this) because of the way it makes me orient my experience of the world. There is always an opportunity to find joy, meaning, and art in the most mundane places.

All of this is to say that I have no idea what the MOST BEAUTIFUL thing I’ve ever read is (what a question!), but here are a few recent phrases from my list:

Fruit for the gods.

What would it be to shape a life around pleasure?

Like a shredded nose adhering to the golden ratio.

I’ve been shit on from a great height.

Infinite regress.

You admit that love is an idiot.

Futility of wealth in the face of fate.

Bonus: I also do this with sounds. I’ll often record soundscapes at cafes, beaches, restaurants, hotel lobbies, public places like parks, and rainy days.

What’s one consumable thing you recommend?
I recommend allowing yourself to fully consume the present moment. It is truly indulgent and luxurious to focus on your own goddamn experience of human consciousness on planet Earth.

Thank you, Paco. You are a gift.

Image from The Hell Yeah Group/Instagram

Also! Paco gave this TED talk on the secret to being a successful freelancer, recommended for anyone who is currently freelance, especially those who are new to it or considering taking the leap. It’s four minutes well spent.

And now, on to a few things I’ve enjoyed this week…

I adored this excellent post from Noted about Francis Ford Coppola’s “Godfather Notebook,” a massive binder combining his annotated pages of Mario Puzo’s novel with copious notes on how he envisioned the film coming together. Jillian Hess does a fantastic job breaking down Coppola’s process and juxtaposing it with finished scenes. I devoured every word.

As much as I relish witnessing Coppola’s thoughtful, methodical approach, what really moved me was the anxiety behind his actions — he made the notebook to help quell his fears over the script’s success. Indeed, we all have moments when we’re terrified and trying to do our best. Perhaps the solution is a giant notebook of our own.

(P.S. A version of the Godfather notebook is available for purchase, for any film buffs, aspiring directors, or fans who wish to get a deeper look.)

As Socrates declared, “Know thyself.”

The soundtrack of my life lately has been The National’s ninth album, “First Two Pages of Frankenstein,” which has infused my days with the sort of meditative melancholy I’ve come to expect from them. What I’ve enjoyed just as much as actually greeting new music has been witnessing others’ thoughts and reactions to it — from the celebratory to the scathing — including this New Yorker piece (“The Sad Dads of the National”) which said it best:

“This has been the National’s grist: not the major devastations but the strange little ache that feels like a precondition to being human. No amount of Transcendental Meditation, Pilates, turmeric, rose quartz, direct sunlight, jogging, oat milk, sleep hygiene, or psychoanalysis can fully alleviate that ambient sadness. Part of it is surely existential—our lives are temporary and inscrutable; death is compulsory and forever—but another part feels more quotidian and incremental, the slow accumulation of ordinary losses.”

Something about this week has been hitting me especially hard. Was it hormonal? Astrological? …This album?

Then I found it, buried in this 2019 essay from NYLON:

“The thing about loving a band is that they get older at the same rate that you do, and at some point, the music starts to be about the fact that maybe you should be too old to care about all this same stuff, and yet you still do.” 

Exactly that. Do you know the feeling?

On the other hand, it all reminds me of McSweeney’s devastatingly satirical “What Your Favorite Sad Dad Band Says About You.” (“Kayaks.”)

This week’s quote is from The Exchange, a short anecdote from Neruda’s childhood about the gifts we give one another. There are many wonderful parallels to be drawn, including exchanges between readers and writers, and within supportive communities. (Which is also my way of saying THANK YOU for your presence in this one.) A lovely read.

Wishing you a wonderful rest of the week. See you on Sunday. x