october 22.

I retreated to the office today for quiet and focus, figuring that if I stationed myself where I do five days a week, perhaps I'd trick myself into forgetting it was Saturday and keep some momentum. I'm here now, realising I should probably leave now that it's getting dark outside - time seems to evaporate when you're staring at computer screens. This could easily become a habit however - there's something that's very thought-conducive about empty offices. Another plus, desk space for scribbles:

Best investment so far: $3 pack of graphite pencils. No better feeling than smudgy fingers, I think I tell myself every time I use them. Plus, they're good for angry black what-were-you-thinking lines as well - so many benefits from them.

I'm so close and yet so, so far. Our deadline is 23 days away, which is really no time at all when I think about how quickly this year has gone. It's really just in work left that it's far away - all I can do is keep going and trust that, as always, it WILL get done. I'm a terrible deadline pusher. It's like if there's no date looming I will get about 20% done of what I could have otherwise. There's nothing like looming finality to kick you into gear. My problem is that every time I sit down to write I find myself in the middle of one of 'those moments', the ones you can't easily fly through. They're gritty and draining and sometimes I find myself about to lose it because I'm so desperately trying to get in their frame of mind, and it's not always a pretty one.

Which is where the other perk of empty offices come in - dance breaks! I think I can now make a big over-generalisation in that if anyone says they've ever written a film without pausing for some of these, they'd be outright lying.  I'd go so far as to call them essential, even. Granted, my music bill has increased ten-fold with an addiction to new album and iTunes at my fingertips, but I'm putting them down as investments and so far they've proved worthwhile. Recent buys include...

more magic from the masters

ironically named beauty from grouplove

lovely moments from the kooks

and a long-overdue buy from The Middle East. Still so sad they've thrown it in (and being there to witness it has given me the impression that it's a pretty permanent decision, what with the mandolin throwing and et cetera).  I'm starting to think of music and media as a cyclical product (duh) and it's intriguing to wonder which albums and films have been influential in the creation of others. I wish every movie came with the screenwriter's playlist, much the same as novels should include mix CDs from their authors - a nod of appreciation to everything that's been thrown into the mix to spin this new piece, which in turn will find its way into the next person's melting pot. Crazy to think how everything is just begged, borrowed, stolen and then re-interpreted.

Oh, and this clip falls into that notion as well. It's what first sparked a thought that tumbled into a scene that spread itself out into a major piece of the puzzle, and I'll be forever grateful. (Excited to see it in context as well.)