Friday

I worn a dress with violet tights and scarf. Again wonderful sun and placid music I like. As I entered the workshop it had started. Stir with canvas, talks with teacher. He organizened some view of works and took us advices. I’ve understood right now that all that time I couldn’t enter that world be a part of one. Of course I talked with the teacher enjoying attendence of questions. Our sitter is a pretty girl who speak intellegently. But actually that two lessons wasn’t study at all. the teacher remarked me much and I felt I couldn’t relax and abstract myself from life around. Ksenia had her canvas made bad and it slitted with pieces.

On the break I downstaired to wash hand and met a first course girl I know. She called me to greet her classmate whom we were in a camp with long time ago. She was taller than me and sweety. There was pulling memories talk – I have no memory from that time. I was too old and ponderous with all my philosophical view on life in front of them.

In the study soap was eaten by me with so appetite and joyfull. And the tirade had started. Director talked us much contradictory things (he’s clever on his own space) as war (everybody stop talking about it!) and school life morality. A little he was managed to abuse many people as Jewishes, Indians, Africans, Americans, men and women. He qoutes holy bible and says a lot about readiness for war. I sitted replacing to and fro my pens and trying to make his words go through my mind without touch. If I don’t enter the college I would never know about accidents in the town, political passions of people, I wouldn’t know how world is bad, how life is hard. Rubbish. Like a simple girl I glad to be in fanny dress and beauty scarf, I glad to see the sky and orange leaves led on pavement. I am so glad to listen new graceful music. My view is in future what stained with vivid light colours, in present what studies me something. That stern reality he tryed to take me isn’t my own reality. And it’s some problem as I totally feel myself outsider. When Mary said that Picasso paintings are daub even Gernica, I was confused in shock. So narrow. When I open my mouse to say the opinion I am so angry with the whole world and set people at against me. I mean Mary. I feel (oh so ordinary!) people doesn’t understand things I say. And I afraid the moment I would really enter this world and don’t be able to see all picture at once.

So this day was specifical as every my day. Tomorrow we are going to a picnic.

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