Eh. Major case of Mondayitis... just did not want to go to work this morning. Took last Friday off to pick up G from the airport - the first time I've used annual leave since starting full-time work. The long weekend felt like a significant event in itself, just because it was... long! 3 days off work... how sad is that? It reminded me of how free I was as a uni-student. One day, I'm going to have that life again!

Trotted my tired arse out to Tropfest last night. The films were good but I didn't get much of a chance to talk to my friends because I spent half the night trying to find them and bring them together in one place! The awards ceremony was depressing. The prize money was less than the official cost of the films, and that's not even including labour costs! Tropfest films are crafted on free labour. It's a joke really. There is no film industry in this country. It's just a hobby! There is no such thing as a career, unless you want to run away to Hollywood and become American. How else can you explain all these 30-somethings working for nothing, investing their precious savings in celluloid trifles? I pity them. I pity myself. If only God had been a filmmaker... things would be better for these sorry creatures.

At least a painter can sell paintings. A writer can sell articles and books. A filmmaker? You can't sell short films! Most of the time you can't even afford to make short films! The most you can hope for is work on TV Commercials... and that takes some serious grovelling. Bleh! If you're going to do mediocre work, at least get paid for it! I'm better off where I am now. At least this way I can afford to make films for myself, in my free time. If only I had more of it!

Interesting fact: At the age of 35, Paul Gauguin left a successful stockbroking career to devote time to the arts. In 1891 he organised an exhibition of paintings to finance his projected excursion to places where he could live on "ecstasy, calmness and art."

Gauguin's art was a search for new ways of life, more primitive, more real and more sincere. He increasingly abandoned imitative art for expressiveness through colour. This conceptual method of representation was a decisive step for 20th-century art.

In his last years he was destitute and stricken with eczema and syphilis. But in a letter to a friend, written in 1897, Gauguin wrote, "I sit at my door, smoking a cigarette and sipping my absinthe, and I enjoy every day without a care in the world."

I've started work on a new film, which will be related to my last one. I'm going to take one of the secondary characters from Tian Bian and give them their own film. I like the idea of overlapping stories, overlapping worlds - the ability to show the same event from different perspectives, to explore realities rather than reality.

I'm also particularly interested in the international student experience - their transient view of Australia, and the personal problems they run into and have to overcome. I want to craft a story thats based on impressions of what my cousins and friends have gone through, rather than my own life. I think its more challenging to discuss issues through other people's experiences... it forces you to critique your own viewpoint, assumptions and goals. What are you trying to say? How true is it? Is it interesting to other people?

Although the story will be about an international student in Australia, the central theme will be about my love of travel and the way its changed my life... My "foreign eyes" - that sense of being distanced, of knowing more than what is in front of me... a different kind of awareness. Also, loneliness and hope. The observation of small details. Amusement in the surreal. The chance happenings, vague desires and sensed opportunities. The tiredness and withdrawal into introspection... a beautiful kind of aloofness.

The way music draws out the beauty in life will also feature as a sub-theme. For me, music has been a major contributor to my memory of places... it brings out all the things I do not write down, and all the things that cannot be written down. Music draws people together, it creates moments, and it reminds us of needs we cannot express.

Watching the figure-skating on TV tonight it struck me. Fuck I'm useless! These Russians, weaving around the rink, touching each other with such beauty, such grace. That moment where her body sailed above his... it was pure cinema! That one dance alone is their contribution to humanity. Nobody need ask anymore of these athletes - in ten minutes they have done enough to last a lifetime. One can happily fade into obscurity after a performance like that. What freedom! Like a beacon in time, that starburst of beauty was enough to justify your entire lineage, dear Russians.

Dare I take inspiration from these heroes? Imagine the discipline, the suffering to reach this point. Goddamnit, the only thing I'm good at is expressing ideas! I should be writing and making films, not whittling my life away in this frivolous manner! If only I could crack that barrier and break through to that other place. Throw myself into film. Empty life into art. Be but a living idea, an icon, a seduction. It's simple really. Burn one memory into the minds of millions and you are free to live as you wish.

Middle of the week. Stocks are down, raining on my CNY parade. Will the year of the horse be good to me? It is my sister's year, which doesn't bode well. Ours lives seem diametrically opposed. She is generous and energetic. I am snake and cold-blooded... how deep do these veins run?

Already, the winds of change are irritating me with their chilly breath. I'd like to be swept away but instead I seem to be frozen on the spot. I need the warmth and comfort of a bright light to thaw me out. There are many and I have known some of them, but where are they now? Lost in a sea of light. I know you're out there somewhere. Je regrette. I miss you. May the new year brighten your life as you brightened mine.

Drinking foul black coffee at work... Actually, this doesnt qualify as coffee, but acrid dregs of drip-filtered scunge. But I like the trip to the kitchen so I mustn't complain. The thin caffeine scars on my teeth bear witness to my love of this trip to the kitchen. Ode to the coffee break! Life stops for you, my beloved!

I shouldn't be blogging at work either, it's unethical, as my dad would say. But at this time of day, it's hard enough to stay awake and stop counting the minutes. Bad habit. I must stop counting the days in dollars. It's so hard! This is how I motivate myself, like those prisoners who scratch a line in the wall each day... doing my time...

I've had some awesome weekends these last few weeks. Had lots of great meals with great conversations, even made some new friends. Feeling more alert and sociable than I've been in a long time. I think it's related to starting rowing again. The chi is flowing again. My shoulder blades ache but I think that's a good thing. The pain reminds me that I have pushed myself beyond my usual, slothful limits. I seem to be making an effort. Scary - my life has always been effortless. I remember saying "Pleasure good, pain bad." My idea of a good workout was spending the day in bed spooning. But now I'm even considering rock-climbing! Who would've thought... Perhaps this 9 to 5 business is making me more of a masochist... I am a black hole. I am mu. I am eating life. I chew. I swallow all.

G's been in Taiwan for 3 months now. Yogi reckons that's a short time. I said "Short? It's longer than most relationships!" He thought I was having a go but it was just one of those things that you say without thinking. Three months can be an eternity in a young guy's life. It's just long enough to make you feel like you're single, except you're not, which is worse than actually being single, because you can't do anything about it.

The first month was pretty hard, sudden withdrawal and all that loneliness. The second month is relatively easy - you start re-establishing contacts and finding new friends to fill the gap. I guess that's the upside of the whole experience, you have to reach out and grab life by the collar again, instead of hibernating in cosy coupledom. But where love's involved, it still feels a little surreal. Where's G?

The third month is probably the hardest of all - you start counting down the days and time seems to crawl to a halt. Lust rears its ugly head but it's illegal to indulge. Well for most of us anyway. Personally I don't believe monogamy is a prerequisite for Love with a capital L, but I haven't strayed this time. I'm a little surprised. I'm not good with temptation. Perhaps I'm maturing? They say guys peak at 20, whilst women peak at 40... It's a scary thought. I won't dwell on it. I just want to hit the fast forward button and bring G back sooner.

An out of the blue request or taking over from someone could lead to the career break you've been praying for. Take things in your stride and be a little nouveau in your approach: not a day for the ordinary, only the extraordinary get somewhere now.

I'm beginning to have second thoughts about being a professional trader. Am I really cut out for the greed of the floor? Do I have the arrogance and hardness that it takes? Watching JAG today had me all inspired to write prime time drama series instead. I love the gems of truth that find their way into these scripted worlds. Sometimes its just a glance, othertimes a cutting line, or a mawkish moment between ex-lovers. Harm and Mac, Ed and Carol, Mulder and Scully. I know the formula but I can't help falling for it. By neccessity, lead actors are meant for each other but for one reason or another, never manage to get it together, except of course, for the beginning and ending of each season, when events conspire to tantalise the viewers with a collision of unrequited love.

TV rocks.

Fulfilling your ambition means following a vocation that has your name written all over it, so start the search for the right career. You could be powerfully attracted to a public figure but it's not so much the person as the power they wield, for you power is sexy and that is why you need a position where you are in control.

At varying times, I want to do everything, and worst of all, want to do it well. Maybe I just want to surprise people. Maybe I'm merely prolonging the endless possibilities of youth... when really, all the world asks is that I make myself useful to other people, and quickly. Is that what I am? Another sack of flesh with an expiring utility value? The thought doesn't disturb me, I've already internalised it. Viewing the world with utility goggles is the key to power. Everything is sexy when you know what it can do for you.

In the midst of war I am weightless. The stench of carnage makes my stomach turn but I feel no shock. I am distanced from reality, because I am not surprised. I see history repeating. Every tomorrow will be a yesterday, and every yesterday, a tomorrow. As they say... ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We are building sand castles and the tide is coming in.

Sea sand. Kelp. Polyps. Whale Carcass.

I think I'll export myself to Asia and let circumstance shape my immediate future. I'm thinking Japan. But I'm always thinking. Which means I change my mind a lot.

A big idea about where you live is okay but make sure it is feasible and affordable before you get too carried away by it. You're conflicted about where you want your career to go, especially since the job market is so tight. A love of security could prompt you to keep a position that makes you fundamentally unhappy. Before you give up on a dream, consult someone in the know. There may be a way to work toward your goal without losing your self-esteem.

The filmmaker gasps. The web producer grins. The trader feels a rare bout of self-loathing coming on.

Play it again, Sam.