The end of the little trip

So, it’s my third day at home and there is no post on the romantic topic of road and it’s drawbacks. This is because of me who keep the word to be very active and do more for managing more. This is why two evening I either prime the canvas or sort out photos from the trip or download all the russian films I must watch and read my book (on the introduction step).

Now it is sunny morning with green trees out of the window and the cawing crow. I had the omelette for breakfast and have satisfied with it very much. How did I miss eggs!

Though, it’s time to back to Moscow. It was night when I was going to the subway, the town was different, almost empty but more dangerous and misterious. Near by the construction my heel was knocked down. In great hurry I amended it and went farther. That was the first time I saw the floor at the Arbatskya station. There wasn’t usual crowd but strange suspicious people who I tried to avoid. Even the railway station seemed to be more quiet and deserted. As I was aware of entries and exits, staircases and corridors it was easy to carry so much baggage to the platform. And there was no surprise when super Chuvash woman tried to humiliate others for her own vanity. People crowded around the railcars, talked or carried things inside. Of course, young men jumped the queue but it hadn’t any influence on anything generally. I was lucky to be surrounded with female. They patiently waited for me making the bed and stirring everywhere. I know I am a bad neighbour. It was night and I had no desire to look out of the window but sleep. It was the typical not full kind of sleep I have at the train. At the morning I was woken up by the frozen leg. Then everything was quiet: tasty breakfast, film 400 blows, the dinner – and at the next moment it had already been Cheboksary. 15.08.12 144

The weather blossomed. Sun lighted the green grass and trees, air and streets seemed significantly clearer. Mom had new haircut and another jacket. I had no inner problem in coming out of the capital, nor pathetic nor pose. The flat seemed very clear and comfortable – everything free to use. After the pea soup I sorted the baggage out so quickly and prepared clothes for washing so fast that I have time to go to know my exam results. And it is not so good as I hoped. And now I cannot know exactly the mistakes. Mom was a bit sad about it as it means I must work on the creative exams harder. But when I passed through the country like streets with little amount of cars and new building farther I was inspired very much. It was so easy to breath and think. That is behind.

The rest of the day I orginised the next two months and did little things.

The last day at M

So, the suitcase has completed, the dinner is eaten, rubbish is thrown away. And what else? I’m ready for the night train and have the intention to ride away now. But I have the lesson today and my train is at midnight.
I woke up so happy and enthusiastic to move on that I smiled and talked nicely with the Spanish man at the hall. The run was refreshing as usual. The track for run and dog walking was wet and grey today. Calm swans glided on the water surface while dogs were running and barking at each other. Funny character of a man who took a business call and told about something serious. He was in the black outfit which made him look like walrus. Many old people with ski poles. The pond was tranquil as usual, and as usual very pleasant. I found out the very harmonious Chinesse restourant at the corner of the building. It reminded me some Boston’s cafe on the corner. Basically, it all was the same. The same quietness, the same stir. Difference was in the weather which is so rainy now that I ch
ose the warmer boots for moving.

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Yesterday I watched two particularly interesting interviews by Pozner with Tatyana Chernigovskay. She told about the influence of Internet and typing on the brain and the fact that out brain decides everything ahead us. He takes decision, we do something and then he convinces us that this decision was our own. So we all have things decided long before we know it. I got it always that brain is much smarter than me.
The another thing was that wrong answers and untypical thinking make people more like genius. She noted that genius couldn’t take the State Exam well. And I know why. While I was preparing for this stuff I could feel the bad effect. There was no desire to be curious, to think through and find the gist. No, there were just answers on questions. This is why I really want to return to that eager approach in study and life.
  Also she told about the artifical intelligence which can develop so that it will desire to blackout us. Scary things.
But the way she answered questions and reflected inspired me to keep up with the old fashioned way of consumering informatio and think over my cellphone’s habits. I know that it would be better to limit my time there and maybe to come back to the paper recorder.
Now, I see that the decision not to make the new storyboard was silly and childish. I have time and place. What else? It’s important to begin the intensive process at home without any delay. There won’t be any excuses. I know.

Tuesday at Moscow

Actually, this is the last real day here.
I woke up late because of the yesterday headache and heaviness. But there was no shame about it. The weather was windy and grey, the playground where I do my exercises was surrounded by hurrying pupils and hurrying cars. Many big cars at the small roads of the old district.

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I didn’t do the storyboard only because of the low spirit. To the midday I went out to walk to the Hermitage Garden. The Tverskoy avenue was wealthy decorated to the first may. People took photos and selfies around everything. Florish archs, grassy monuments of the couples, sporty sculptures and many little decorations. There would be some gardening fair. My way led through the same place we were with Mary. But I couldn’t make out how the roads are established that the other side was nearer than that. So I was going there with music and high spirit among the stirring street. Cars don’t like to give you a way but boldly ride forward. Though the streets, shops and little park are nice. You can pass forward with pleasure and contemplation. Yes, cars are there but the green zones are there too. As well as great old architecture all around the center. At the Garden there were beautiful theatre, neat grass, benches and big playground with the country like cafe. The monument to Dante and many places to seat and read. Everything is quiet gracious.
The whole walk I was considering about my attitude to this town. The point is that this is so alike the hometown (mentality, order of things etc) that I don’t feel much confusion by being not local. At some degree I even like this. There are many interesting places and people, many opportunities for realization. And the outlook became better than before.
I make the conclusion that my feeling like home is so wide and limitless because of the sense of home inside me. Not outside. However, I miss my privicy and physical place which I have at home.
Near by the misterous synagogue with the David’s star at the whole fence I bought the jogurt which ate at the bench. The view was the crossroads filled with furious cars. But it was so romantic and plain for me. The little rain and visit to the candyshop made me happy even more.
I finished to read Great Expectations and am going to begin Odyssey. Not well planned days are so idle – think ahead always.

Last Monday of this trip

The grey day most of which I feel tired and exhusted. Before the dinner it was a torture to outline ideas for the storyboard. It’s so hard to follow the rules(suggestions) and make creative pictures with expression and fantasy. I found out that my mind is empty about the strange situations at the train station or at the exhibition. And it was so easy to plunge into my fantasies that most of that time I was sitting moveless trying to find the gold in my mind. Only rubbish. My head dizzied and I wanted nothing. Hate such moments but I wrote my thoughts down and got some ideas for overcoming such a BIG BIG problem. I’m looking forward the time at home, it will be full of business and growth. I hope, I know.

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Now it’s hard to do many things and there is no desire to describe it. I need more space or just the sign to begin. Or just begin. I have gone to the conclusion that I need to remind myself about all that stuff more frequently because it is so easy to forget and hover above clouds without anything done.
At the painting my head had been still dizzying but I tryed really hard to improve the canvas. Of course, the still life isn’t the product of adequate painter but the training. I still don’t connect with other girls as everytime I feelmyself much older, wiser and proficent than they are. And it’s hard to paint and talk the same time. The teacher asked me again about the education and was satisfied with my work. But I totally dislike his manners and the assertion that there is no artist who draw like twenty years ago. Common, come into the Glazunov’s academy and you’ll see!
I went out without Nastya and spoke with myself until the very subway. Why am I so tired? I need to schedule and sort things out.

Not so perfect Sunday

Strange day of boredom and tiny sadness.
But the morning was incredible. I woke up early and run to the pond where white swans relieved by the shining water. There were no people at the streets, all slept and didn’t know what a beautiful morning they had lost. I run with struggle and pleasure. Then good enough breakfast and the confusion of organisation. I texted much to Mary but she did not answer me. I did my daily things until we agreed to go to the park. Streets looked enjoying the spring, sun and blossom. At the cafe there were may interesting people who studied something. I ate the soap with bread – classic. My mind was open and easy for everything even for reading vocubulary aloud at the subway. Why not?
At the place I was early and took photos of people and exterior. It was the worse district than Arbat (really?): sectional house building, noisy dusty roads, poorer people. A hipe man bothered people with the books about god and twice went to me. I waged with arms and instantly demanded to go away from me. I waited while sun shone as in June but Mary hadn’t came yet. I wrote her, called her but there was no answer. Then she called and without any excuse said that she’ll come in twenty minutes (that was after her fifteen minutes late). She adviced to come to the cafe and wait for her. So I did. It had been the most despondent sitting in the cafe during this trip. Nor tiramusu nor mango tea nor a pear could dispel the bitterness inside. Immediately I’d hated all that mediocre people around, the cafe itself, the typical district, dust, noise and stir. The vision of the central district with it’s neat shops, cafes and good looking people seduced me to back there. And I got tired to wait. At the moment I directed to the park she wrote me. Finally we met by the station and she carried some snatch for us both as an apology. The reason of 1.5 hour delay was unexpected long sleeping. I still can’t say that I can get such flimsy explaination as reasonable.
So, we went to the park where she began to ask me about the yesterday. I told something and found that she didn’t know much about Pozner. It happens and does not matter. Though she left me again when instantly desired to try the local pancake. That was so boring and terrible to wait among trees and attrations that I called her. Actually the best thing was the ability to talk aloud sometimes without any responce. However, the forest and the lake were exciting as well as many trainers, the tennis courts and the pitch for football. She talked a bit scrappy and it was hard to converse long and profound – we were distracked by different fairs and fanny dogs. There were huge amount of all types of motobikes.
When we said good bye at the subway I felt the bitter sense of sadness. It wasn’t as good as it could be. There was something the same, something alike the monotone melody. The walk to the hostel I took many romantic photos and desired to buy the local chocolate again in the same old shop. But it was closed and I bought the jogurt. No talks this evening, please, only typing, watching Civilisation and reading the book. Please, I need some rest at my cave.

Extra Saturday

It’s just a  wonderful day filled with miracles and sun.

At the morning I pushed me out of the bed and went to run. And there were no regrets about that. Streets were so silent and empty that it had been hard to believe that it was the big capital. No, at the arbat district it is calm as in a little town with the pond and intelligent ladies walking with the beagle, with an old man who work out. I knew the road well and run with pleasure of confidence and pressure.

At the Arbat street air was fresh and springy. I found the cafe, took a cup of tea and sit to schedule activities. But suprisingly I could’t focus without my google calendar. Isn’t it silly? However the sun was bright and roads were free. I had the dinner with soap. In front of me there were two girls and their mothers who are to enter GITIS. Interesting, isn’t it?

Then I discovered the new way to reach the Tretyakov’s Gallery. At the Krimsky Val sky had so much white low clouds that I couldn’t restrain from stopping and looking at the huge picture of nature among the stony town.

The gallery was welcome as there wasn’t much visitors (thank God!). I did everything very accurate as I had big experience in going to the exibitions (pathetic!). The halls were smartly composed and we could go through the creative ages. Pictures were huge and monumental, programm sometimes, sometimes phylosophical. The main thing which I carried out of there was sketches. Little sketches with black pen or indian ink for the preparation to the canvas itself. They spoke me how to create things, how to think. Sometimes I forget that it’s allowed to make sketches, draw ideas and write instrutions down. The painting is proficient in the frames of natural school though his composition is usually cinematographic. There are cuts and not fully shown details as the cadre will change and the next will show us the continue.

The rest of the gallery I went through with tired foot. Nonetheless, I could really enjoy the pictures of some artists. The collection of the twentieth century is so big there that at the end I prayed it to be the last room. But then there was another room filled with masterpieces. What to say here? I want my student ID back to visit galleries freely and do it selectively, from time to time with little portions.

As the great art require the feedback my head had been splitted to the end of the visit. I was in hurry to have time for the meeting with Mary and the main event. It turned out that she couldn’t come. So, nothing’s scary. I went alone to the place. There was so much people that I had had no hopes to seat down at the beginning. But then I found the folding chairs, took one and enjoyed. After the half of an hour with the closed eyes, cup of americano and another stir around the books the audience had became quiet and calm. Just in a moment the waited for journalist came and just on a second I felt the pleasure of seeing the very admired person in life. It was Vladimir Pozner, the journalist who made a few profound films about different countries and the same time he is the great interviewer. I couldn’t believe, but then it was like the talk of near person in the lilac sucks.

He said many profound things about the importance of fantasy and the relevant part of reading in developing the vision. And as usual he said that without any importunacy which is typical for political stuff. Also he touched the importance of writing by hand (what a coincidence! Only this morning I looked for the notebook for usual writing sort of I used at the college). The screen versions and the books he called alarmed the great desire to read, to watch, to imagine, to develop. To look under the cover and find the gist.

The woman who accompanied him was interesting and resilient too. But people sometimes cryed without any politeness or understanding. How little and silly that routine life seemed and how big and beautiful – the world of art and truthfulness. When it ended I went directly to the stand with the foreign literature and considered about the purchase but put myself together and run away to the fresh Saturday Arbat. Sky was full of air and something magical. Something what makes life valuable and wonderful. I flight like a butterfly and didn’t want to touch the greyness.

Write notes by hand, read books, listen music, make sketches, learn languages, discover new, imagine, live.

Reflecting on the process

The midday which I spend at the little room with the laptop.

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Yesterday stressful walk actually affected my energy score. The storyboard which I tryed to draw looks terrible. Where to find the willpower to continue? At the moment I’m not so well motivated as should be. Maybe Moscow stir distracks or the limited privicy with narrow-minded neighbour irritates. I don’t know. This post is reflecting and there is no shame. I have no morning pages now and the result is visible. There is so much to do that I hardly can move. It’s easy to say “narrow it down” but how to choose between writing notes and making sketches, between reading the art history and fiction between communication and selection between observing people and making things done. How to choose? Things here are too slow though they seem fast and bustling. Time is the perceivable substance with it’s frames and speed. I feel physically how it passes. After the dinner the way to study then the way to the hostel during which I call mom and make purchases, after those supper, shower, maybe notes and reading the book. I still have a tricky dillemma weither sketch at the subway, read or listen english. And such question is the relevant for productivity. I must keep my focus on no more than two points, otherwise I will disperse on little things. The two points are the entrance and english. It’s easy. But when I look at the entrance’s to-do list I feel how powerfully it seize the working time. To be enthuasiastic like at the third course I should clean my mind and work up the main ideas. (I ate rise so much times that now the stomach refuse to recognise it as a food) I consider about returning on paper media. I look at the calendar and to-do list so often that sometimes fingers turn on the network apps unwillingly. And you know what happens then. I must plan accurately my next two months and be ready when I come back home. The list should include the practical tasks as well as the reading and the watching list. The last one is a little problem because of the vague data in the internet. How to choose the best of russian film if I watched a bit of them and have a slight idea about the variety of pictures? (I need some real food – it’s dizzy. Put myself together and stand up! Some coffee and take outs will make difference. Go to the cafe for some soup at supper)
This is as cold in the room as the autumn time is. And it’s time to pack things and run away to the subway. I want books, papers and energy.

Wednesday 20th. Moscow

The day was the typical one. And why? The first half of the day I sit in front of the big leaf and imagined the whole theme. There was nobody but sleeping neighbour and I could look out of the window as much as I wanted. That was the hardest piece of work – thinking up. But the farther process won’t be easy at all.
I was late a bit when I entered at the workshop. There were many girls with the white papers and many disordered things all around. I cleaned my place near by the window where it was thundering and raining. The labourant girl went and spoke many loud sticky words to attract our attention to her. Another ginger girl stayed silently ahead of me but was really enthusiastic with her girls. She declaired loudly about the teachers and something else while me and Nastya was talking quietly. She met her classmate here and went to the museum freely. Nastya said she wanted to enter there. So, this is quite common desire for any of us. But some are in zeal for achieving the goal while others take it easy. We laughed the whole way to the subway and in it. I acted all I wished to fake and she played that game with me easily. I mean we made impressions of some other persons and enjoyed it. I speak with people too haughty to say that I’m outgoing person. To improve the inner massage of my voice – strange purpose but a piece of communication life though.
During the lesson I couldn’t throw away the inner voices of Britvin and Fedoseev which kept me in shape on the contrary with the general smooth comments of that teacher. I evidently need much more practice even in drawing portraits. But I can’t say that my common enthusiasm about portraiting is huge it’s rather practical purpose. I would study drama more eagerly. It’s not a secret that the spirit of other departments draws me too.

Just evening

It is so easy to lose the magical spirit of the evening that I just must write it down.
After the hard day in front of the storyboard and near to the narrow-minded neighbour I run at the street. My intention was to walk without any obligations or purpose. But I have a point to watch at – the British ambassy at the embankment. My way led through the cute streets of Arbat. By the German ambassy there were many official cars with drivers and security. I imagined how wonderful it would be to see some politic. But I crossed the street and entered the shop I thought about every run. The official shop of “Krasny Octyabr” (“Красный Октябрь”) on the corner of the building looked as it was established many dacades ago. The woody covering, glassy chandelier and the strong smell of chocolate in the air. I choose a little one sweet which reminded me how dad bought such at the little nook of the local market. Yes, it was the same kind of chocolate.
Something changes at evenings. People are to go home and take it easy. Air is full of something hardly perceivable. This something lies in the building where Pushin read his poem or even lived, in the simple monument to Brodsky and Bunin. This lies in the neat pattern of lights which fills the roads and the trading streets as the space with the stars. The valley is empty as well as the roads by the embankment there I can practise any language the way I want. The big strange building that turned out to be the British ambassy was full of poetry quotations and modern windows. But no flag. Little streets beside the wide fussy road were absolutely empty and calm. But lights on the bridges and the City made the picture so fresh and marvellous that I couldn’t restrain my delight.
At the arbat street I called mom and talked with her before the very House of books. The life calm and useless passes on that street as a part of not working life. We spoke easily about different things. On the way to the hostel I found myself singing romantic songs which I as usual think up at once. The blue air of magic, the blue light of miracle. Just fresh air of spring all around.

Another Saturday at M town

Yesterday was supernatural day. I woke up with the sound of rain drops. It meant no running but some exercises and uncomfortable walking. And it was still raining when I went out to the subway. Even though there were many tourists on the New Arbat, no one walked at my way to the museum. But it was absolutely beautiful especially with BBC radio which did the damp weather romantic. You know I like to walk under the rain or sit at home, anyway I like it because some strange sentiments appearing in me such times. But to the moment I got to the museum it had already been snowing. Can you imagine that?
Inside I had to pay for entry the huge sum and had to leave my bag at the cloakroom. Sketches unwillingly were cancelled. Halls were really crowdy like in a real great international museum. The exhibition of the Dutch photographer looked nice and strengthen the decline of traditional painting. His works were photos sort of historical pictures at the digital era.

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All around his exhibition were traditional. The well-known temprorary exhibition of Cranachs excited me much. I liked their pictures long time ago and found it alive and beautiful. Their work is thin and restrained but this only underlines the inner life, the energy. Pictures have powerful energy and big massage. I couldn’t believe that those alive people died five centures ago and there was nothing else by them but the picture and some historical circumstances. PIctures took all my attention and this is why I understood the reasons of poor fantasy of people’s behaviour at the museums. I don’t look at them but at the arts.
I was exhusted and hungry when I left the building. The dinner I ordered at the cafe was so huge that I had felt silly even before the desert. It was so nice to sit there without any sense of oddity. The trade center was crammed with people and quiet boring to walk in. Near by the subway stationa guy comes to me and asked in English either the station is closed. It appeared that yes. I led him to the other station and asked about the town. He’s from Germany and went to consult about 2018. He said that he liked Moscow more and more every time he went. I was a bit pessimistic and told about rudeness and not politeness of people here. When I left him at the cash and he thanked me warmly I felt that my behaviour was typically russian. Sad ideas, indifference, rudeness a bit. And I could speak with him more about something, be sticky but it is hard for me to be like many of made up girls looking for foreigners. I like Moscow where I can meet such people without any special intention. At the process of shopping for the week I reproached myself not once and rotated ideas in my mind. Necessity of speaking practice.
The texts went from Sasha and Nastya simultaniously. I had the appointment with first and unexpected offer from the second. Of course I wanted to have time on both friends but finally I decided to keep my word and meet with Sasha.
At the subway I was sleeping and couldn’t see anyone around. But when I opened my eyes it turned out that Sasha was standing near by the doors. She had haggard look. Messy hair and blurred make up at the pale face. But voice was fresh. That was strange meeting thought there was nothing actual strange. We talked about our education, her diploma, some people we know, some films we watched. But I felt she’s hesitating now, she’s still the same college girl in spite of capital’s experience. I can’t see development. And it made me worry. At the way home I thought another time weither it helps both of us to grow. And answer is evidently no.
At the night I couldn’t sleep long time because of the neighboor’s conversation with the Irish boy. I listened her English again and wasn’t able to make out why don’t I practice language while such people do. I could do it much better.