The second day I painted the still life. It was ok, until it began to be grey dirty colour. And yes, I’ve remembered immediately that painting isn’t easy thing to make it fine. The other thing I remembered is that it’s so tedious to work after dinner.
After dinner some power drew me out of the flat. I couldn’t sit in front of the screen and write my great deal of essays. And I went out in the best condition of soul to damn streets.
It turned out that making my exercises at further McD’s is so cozy. People around are real, with real passions and boredom. I could hear to two girl of fifteen, one told another that she’s her only friend and nobody would connect with her in hard times. (Typical teenagers)
Meanwhile, I started again to write morning pages and have already some clarification in my mind.