Travel Journal #8

Things are up and running. I must admit, it is disheartening to see how much of film is cellphones and meetings. How little people care about the art itself.

It's almost like being a slave on the auction block; being poked and prodded and just praying to be sold to a good master. Nothing matters except the sale. How sad. Someone asked me today if my films were good. What a dumb question. Why would you ask that?

I have to say that work will always be work. I will always wish I were somewhere else. I don't like being captive. One of the most wonderful things about being here is the sense of incredible freedom I have found. this is why I move around all the time. To regain Freedom. Pull up the anchor and set sail. Why am I like this? Why can I not find freedom within myself? It is such a simple idea, but so complicated. I'm looking for the freedom that is in my, not around me.

p.s. roommates suck.