So strange to find the college being still the same after weekends when I’d inspited of all rabbish deals, got some inspirition with my loneliness (physical need to be alone in the room). I was going to take a few colour sketches for composition on the composition. But Br. took us a lecture on a theme “Holiday” and required sketches immediately. As he’d arranged all opportunities to image this theme in a scheme I was sitting in a stupor. Till my classmate abused americans (so silly) I was drawing a sketch “the arrival in America”. For me it’s interesting theme. But not for diploma of course.
Whatsoever time in college was sad. I tryed to smile and take joke with my behavior. It was surprise to be the first greeted our returned teacher and the artist who made plain air this air.
When we had done our new stage for drawing I didn’t listen what girls was saying and just drew. In the breaks I didn’t know what to do and just sketched. Composition was so tremendous and so unreal. Br. slapped all my sketches and took advises what so — Oh, I feel it’s old russian school. Driving to tennis I even had taken an idea of a picture with classical signs of right picture. The plot, explicit shadows and lights, pseudo-deep sense. On the composition I felt myself like a desert where it could be anything called creativity. No ideas. A moment of test my self-gravity. I even couldn’t to breathe when went for supper to the cafe with music. I exhaled as understood it.
Tennis made me smile, jump, run and hope again. Don’t listen grumble voice of teachers don’t look at frowny faces of classmates, be yourself, keep calm and carry on.