It’s eleven o’clock but it’s already hard day. Yesterday I came back from a painting study doing what I danced and song but not finished my study. At home I watched Canadian series till night. I don’t want to paint. And I’m at a loss. I stayed under a shower trying to feel better. But breathing is the hard affair sometimes. I couldn’t sleep, but get up six o’clock and read a history book throght sleepy eyes. BBC radio en route to collage and legs what was so slow and unwilling. By the door I met Nastya, she said that our study has canceled for today (bad weather) and I upstaired to workshop to leave a canvas. As I’ve done it I just had found a chair and set. I have not energy. Irina asked me where am I going to paint. “What.. I don’t what wherever at all.” – it was sounded unwillingly. But I left collage and went to the river bant – I thought to paint dark water. But it was silver or grey – colourless at all. You look at the remote bank and feel like thousand stones push you down. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. I feel like I was restrained by all sides about four years and all of it haven’t helped me to be better to discover my talented my opportunities. I’ve tired by all of this. Like I’ve returned to the start and all I’ve done is erased. Even I don’t think about final big work. Bad. 

I came to my favorite cafe where slow warm music just turn you off the life. I left feeling easier myself. 

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1 thought on “”

  1. Oh, it’s always like this, the more you work the less you know and succeed – or at least you feel like this.
    Don’t you ever doubt in your talent, right? It might have been lack of impression, or good and fruitful bonds with people, or just physical conditions, and so on. Whatever. You are not a machine producing paintings, are you? You cannot just switch yourself on and off because you are alive.

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