2 days before the end of the study

To not fall into contempt to myself I have to write at least a word here.
I’m in spring time mood on this either cheerful period or slack one. Just imagine but today I have received the letter from N. She entirely write beauty type.
College is the strange place now. There are whether pure silence or laugh of first year students in the corridor. Like a ghost of time when other oldest students got out their workshops to ask to keep silence.
I was too energetic till talks. It was much unexpected jokes by me. It would be good to have this joking skill during winter time.
Tennis training was typical.


4 days before the end of the study

Saturday – the most favorite day in a week. Great breakfast with omlette, toast and coffee. And laziness as usual.
Going to the bank by bus without headphones helps you to feel the smell of reality. Entirely old and unpleased. But without any music you can hear your own voice, what is trying to say something. You may watch new building sits instead of old dicrepit houses and foresee a new district there sometimes.
In “The frame’s gallery” my classmate works. I went to invite her to pose me but we talked long time enough to touch basic point in study and work. And she refused me. I bought two oils and had a friendly conversation.
Everything is so pure light like a delicate texture.

5 days before the end of the study

This was the day of work. Maybe work wasn’t fully on the painting lesson when Irina cryed “What about tea break?”. Sometimes this kind of life’s style annoyes me.
But after a salad on the dinner and some tea I began to draw Nastya’s portrait for the picture. Long time we set it up. Kate with whom Nastya was going to go home was so slowly and scatter-mind that I had got some add time for the sketch. I heard some songs from 2013 year K turned on. Listening those russian lyrics I saw clearly how far that time for me now. Time of type’s tasks till nights, some phantoms of amourness, alive dad who got up at night and talked with me. To say honestly the time of my study has gone not so swiftly as it seems sometimes. As it seems to majority of students.
Hour later my mind should be concentrate on literature’s exam and Solzhenizin’s biography exactly. Then it was brunch in McD where I decided not to go there anymore. Sun and stir of young and mature people.
On the sketches I tired, really tired to the last pose.
When I concentrated on my own life’s aims I had became rigid and senseless like a stone. Stone what can’t speak fluently with people. No. I can, but the persons around me influence on me with their closeness to life. I see it and want to change the situation.

I should not only speak about changes in my space but to do some movements to changes.  I really dislike society around me what chills the passion to life.  They aren’t who I would like to be.

7 days before the end of the study

From early morning to the dinner time freeze wind blew everywhere. I was sitting at the computer with my illustrations. A lesson had gone so invisible that I have no so much enthusiasm for the second one. I was complimented by girls for my little pictures and was so glad to feel it even in such a little portion. Also we had found the programm what initiating real oil, watercolour, pencils etc with so realistic approach.
Since the dinner it had been beginning to be rubbish. I could’t or rather say didn’t want to mix with them on conversation about cheap liquid. And when I actually will be able to listen music on my own phone?
The good point was about a visit of Britvin. As usual he said some notices, but among them a golden light of phrase about right drew neck. Oh my lord, it isn’t so hopeless, something is studied for these five years! This is a very joyfull note for me.
As I drew till girls were flaping about I decided to go home earlier. The other reason is about my stomach.
This kind of times when I have no theme to discuss with classmates and N doesn’t answer nor my letter niether my texts to her I feel a scruple shade of loneliness. But then thoughts about future chops and changes take it away as useless redundant.

8 days before the end of the study

There is a driving snow out of the window. White streams are whirling across streets as these are claiming about winter return. No, thank you. I was in the old coat and with the oldest phone we had at home. My timely eight years age nokia had told us good bye and repainted the screen in black.
Today I’m light. Nor a sitter’s stupidity, nor some grey faces among classmates, neither unpleasant critic of the teacher could make me feel worse. It’s all rubbish and of course has an end in eight days. Last eight days of study here. And a few rigid months for diploma picture.
My en route time I read “Pride and prejudice”, watch tranquill world of personal doubts and joy. So far from there.
To say in one word, now I see the light in the end of this way and the idea of living another way makes me more severe in daily aims. I must just try to have better marks on our next thursday’s exhibition (the last one).

The Saturday’s morning in the local museum of fine arts. Just fourty minutes with Russian art. Creaking floor and ancient black staircase.
In spite of light streets and freeze air I felt something from yesterday sadness. Friday’s sense of emptyness.
But it was delight to sit in the McD’s with double espresso. In the bus I was watching around listening french music the same time and tryed to admit a light into my inner. Just give the moment to take me with it’s softy yellowish.
Now I’m at home and it’s the less wanted place where I would like to be now. Of course saturday with a plenty of deals to do.

18 days before the end of study

It was fabulous day of sun and colours. There is some miracle in being quiet at the morning and having some more time.
At first time I had visited a bank in the usual office of business centre, where among corridors there dwelt a little other people that in a bus. My daring behavior is another reason to get pleasure. The sun and sense of freedom are other. I look at the sky and ginger light on the walls as I would be fall in love with somebody or with something like a spring time. My views on male strangers is constantly the same.
En route to the college I’d met Kate, who said me about teacher’s absence and cancel of the main plan to paint a nude study. By the way, she hadn’t recognised me in my new jacket and the hat immediately.
At home hours later I at the end had drawn the view out of the window for degree picture. It’s noticed that with little deals everyday we become nearer to our dream. And this is what I feel now – sense of motion to my own dream. Even if showing sketches on tumblr confuse me.


And finally we should try, just try. As we couldn’t get another life, another flat in a moment and to change the past is impossible. Past is like a monument inside each of us, like Stonehenge. The only way to live with it. I can’t return to school and force myself to study lessons or to try to enter into college in another city. Or burn in a city, not in a town. I can’t.
But only thing I am able to do is about today. Live my life fully today, paint pictures today, study language, prepare to exam today. Be better today. Sometimes we need to forget about Stonehenge and live. (I mean not to forget past’s glads and mistakes but the fact of total sadness)
As we have the one life there will be nothing bad just to try do it the best way. Try.

Exhibition day

Is it a great time of greyness or great time for a plunge up?
Got arrived at taxi to the college with two heavy bags of oils, hummer and pictures. It was half to nine, the first time this year when I came earlier than lessons begin. Before the start there is another area of junior courses’ people, managers and some innocence. I was in the dark blue shorts, dark blue jamper with diaper – so self-restrained condition.
At computer design lesson after I had shown my illustrations, there was no real deal to do. Painting lesson was unusual as we tryed to set at the stage. Our deserve to get it throught a space hadn’t been understood. F. had much efforts to stand it without any notion what we really meant. Finally it was just a usual stage with draperies and day time light. But I found a place were it seems more dimentional.
My literature compositions appeared better than I had assumed before.
But not our exhibition’s outcome. It was thus. I was going to the ladies’ room as couldn’t to be at workshop more time. That time the teachers were going out of auditorium and were asked if I might to come in. Inside there’s marks I could imagine. But the same marks for others whom pictures was frankly bad had surprised me. Surprised and disturbed. As every effort I gave to my pictures is senseless. And even with all my notion about importance’s absence of mark I feel something cheating.
When I came from literature girls had been sitting in the corner of the workshop under a cold lamp. Everywhere teacups stand and litters thrown. Talks was about kinder’s toys and Iphone’s qualities. I watched on N – good looking girl in black dress, eating an apple who so serious discuss such a rubbish. In a quater of an hour I was hauling my canvas through the bridge. Usual gloomy thinks. Throw away it!
And now I should go to the theatre where they would be with the boyfriends. Why? Maybe it’s time to act out of word. Maybe.