Mary can be late always. She compensates it with her constant sense of light. It is warm and light love to life with all its hardships and copings, with all its diversity and creativity. It is felt immediately like a heavy mantle of depressing rubbish fell off your shoulders releasing mind for great.
So was at the painted tram tunnel where I found myself out a bit happy. Though the way crossed the dirty nooks there was no hint of former tension. Not a spot of teachers’ harsh tales niether messy lunacy of the workshop. The other environment of Artplay with its pubs, designers’ labs and exhibitions. Clean offices and fashionable people with awareness of digital world. The smell of activity, achievements and purposes. Why the institute doesn’t smell like this? Why there are stone faces and trash at the corridors? Not proper questions.
The Scottish screenwriter was speaking about the writing for film easily and even funny. Just like real creativity does it – with natural curiosity, diligence and civic sense. Audience had good questions about the process and collaboration.
I led Mary to the student dim cafe upstairs where we had been talking until the closure. For some reason it’s easy to talk smart with her but not with the course mates. Night was quiet and miraculous, I couldn’t fell asleep, I read the reviews and watched trailers.