Feel like I should be happy going into this 2 week holiday and writing happy things, but when the sea changes it's never calm. Returning to the snows this weekend with the westside massive, really looking forward to it and to the two weeks of concentrated creativity that must follow as I prepare my AFTRS application. Trying to cram myself with fresh TV, books and music, in preparation for this challenge. Seeking that old confidence, trying to visualise the dream. But still lacking mental vitality... where has it gone?

Stop dreaming / People who say that are blaspheming / They're doing 9-5 and moaning / And they don't want you succeeding when they've blown it.

Meanwhile Mike is back from the UK for the exact 2 weeks that I'm off work. He sounds like he's having the time of his life, bringing home the paper from the land of Sterling. Can't help reflecting on where I'd be if hadn't left BIT back in 96. The choices we make... Forks and consequences. Comparing makes it hard to keep the faith. I read in a stock trading book that everyone gets what they want, in the end. If they lose money, it's because subconsciously they didn't really want to win. Or rather, they didn't want to lose a lot of money, so they had to lose it all. What do I really want? Is my subconscious leading me down the wrong path? Rhetorical questions. It's all about happiness, and who's to say who's happier?

One thing I've learnt in my current job - never confuse effort with results. The boss likes to use this to deny people their bonus. No one cares how hard you tried if you've got nothing to show for it. You have to stay focused on results, not preparation or dreams or anything else. No one deserves it, but someone's gonna feel the gold and the others get their heads flown. Why shouldn't it be you? Think of your idols, who are they? They too dreamt about their day. You have to keep making positive steps and avoid being lightweight. That's what keepin it real, really means.

My uncle wants to bring his family of 6 to Australia. He's coming in under the business immigration plan, which requires him to turnover a minimum of $200k a year and employ at least 3 aussies. So he plans to open a bakery or takeaway joint and take me under his wing. Not sure that's what I want, but it's not always about what I want. Besides, a family business isn't too different from climbing the ladder. If anything, you've got more motivation to put your back into it. Who knows? Maybe what he wants is what I want, and I just don't know it yet.

It amuses me that I actually want to work harder. But it's true. Soldiering under a stick is boring. Put a bigger carrot in front of me and I will perform. It's all about respect. Respect for yourself, the work and your boss. Currently, I can't think of any good reason why the other two deserve it. Luckily there's lots of potential developments on the horizon. And I'm in good company, so I feel safe, no matter the outcomes. In the meantime, I'm staying focused on my goals, and looking forward to good things.

Simon says "Get the fuck up!"

I haven't been blogging lately. I've been going through a rather flat period, vaguing out on Civ 3 and CS and generally avoiding getting my shit together. My friends have been generous and encouraging, providing me with many enjoyable distractions - soccer games, steamboat, R&B nights, great parties, a weekend of snowboarding. Life has been good. But I've been annoyed with myself for mentally wallowing... am I fattening up as planned or just plain rusting? Certainly, Nereis has been AWOL for over a month, either verbally constipated or chasing the skirts of inner truth. But tonight I got that good feeling, when you know sitting down to write will help disperse the vagueness, get some momentum happening again.

Weighing on my mind is my application for the AFTRS - Australia's national film school. 90% of the time, I'm convinced I don't have a chance of making the cut. I've been reading the bios of recent graduates on the web... I don't fit the MO. I'm not early-30s, white-Australian, with a couple of short films and a few years of lowly-paid industry experience under my belt. And I don't wear a black leather jacket! However, not everyone that gets into AFTRS fit this MO. So I could be a contender, I could be a somebody. My friends have every confidence in me... they're unnerving me with their confidence... who do they think I am? Dawson Leary? Unfortunately my life isn't scripted. I can't be sure there's a happy ending waiting for me...

Readying myself for this year's application I realise just how unprepared I am. I haven't done enough training courses, lived in foreign countries, or worked on other people's productions. I'm about 5 years younger than the average directing graduate. My portfolio is entirely composed of my own creations. The films I've made are not impressive on paper. Any fool can string together a resume with half a dozen home-movies.

On the other hand, I'm Asian, I'm passionate and articulate about film history and theory, and I have first class honours in film studies thanks to a 30min drama I made in 2000. But it's only shot on video, with non-professional actors, and 2 years on, it looks very amateurish in comparison to the $9000 films other candidates have made. Aiiish. I must stop thinking of the obstacles. Like a tight-rope walker, I should imagine myself treading a mere crack in the pavement, instead of a wire suspended 50m in the air. It's all in the mind... I think.

If AFTRS rejects me, I've committed myself to an extended overseas adventure, a year or two waitering, taxi-driving, and doing whatever the fuck it takes to get the interesting experiences I need to draw upon as an independent writer/filmmaker. I will enrol in short courses and volunteer my services non gratis to interesting film productions and sundry artistic projects. In short, I will go out of my way to become the ideal candidate for the filmschool.

And if they still won't take me, I'll do a Ph.D and become an inspirational teacher of film studies like my honours supervisor. Do you know what Ph.D stands for? Or I'll become a professional film critic and gloat over my reviews in the weekend paper. Oh Nereis, you are one smart cookie! As the old adage goes, "Those who can't do, teach, and those who can't teach, write." I don't care. There's more honour in each of those options than never gave it a shot cos he was too chickenshit.

{ An ode to chickenshitness }
Call it pride, but I'm not sure I can give up my taste for money and fine things. With most of my friends working in finance and I.T. there's a real risk I'll end up being the only penniless bastard at Friday night drinks. I won't be able to afford a nice house, a decent car, the kind of freedom that money affords. Am I brave enough to risk a "hand to mouth" existence? The decision to break from the safe and narrow allows no room for compromise. It's either an exciting life of arts and leisure, or a short sojourn into the unmapped territories of failed ambition and back again. Hands up who wants to spend their life hanging around the sets of second-rate films and TV commercials?

{ Reprise: Damn where have we heard that before?! }
Scanning through my blog I realise just how many times I've written about this dilemma. Creativitiy vs. Comfort. I amaze myself. So much clarity in the writing, yet so little action. Where do you want to go today Nereis? The 9-6 shit-kicking is killing you. You're not learning, not being stimulated, instead thinking more and more like a shit-kicker. The void beckons. Bonsoir! Pull it together. Start reading again. Start thinking and writing. Practice your craft. Get out there with the camera and start capturing. What you really want is to make Groundhog Day, not live in it!