Yesterday evening

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.


“How can you be bored studying here?”- the girl with narrow glasses and reddish hair asked me while we were sitting at the corridor by the big window with the view on the whole street. I didn’t know what to answer. That was a minute’s tedium, was it? Was it a momentous quirk or not? We speak more open and apparent than we presume.

Despite all my embarrassment and queer replies on farther questions about mastery that had meaning. I did really felt tired by the row of lessons and breaks. The lunch at the canteen where students play their game and reluctant about sitting with strangers. Herd mentality arranges big tables just for one company, looks for stools and place. There are paper tea glasses, plastic trays and the queue to the metallic stand. Change of people, replacements of stools, movement of persons, the transfer of meal to the other places.

The anatomy lesson is the dubbing of the second course at the college. Bones and joints of the spine. Intervertebral discs, spinous processes. My sloppy handwriting with the black pen.

That’s snowing at the morning. NastyaT was coming with me to study and enjoyed the picture of white and yellow colours around. Evening changed it to blurred lights of cars and windows with wet asphalt and cold blue sky.

I did think about life and how could I lead it to the way I do now but there is hardly a person wishing to hear woaming. As for me, I don’t want to read such. I need to amend my mood, life, behaviour, plans, mindset and grades. The work life and development matter for me much. But I’m quite unhappy with day study and assign everything to spare time.

No more rust

e99e1b0f508f5e0b84832947ce92f0eeThe festival makes study days shorter and more endurable. However, I did come today later and watched the clocks too often. I hardly forced myself to actually go to study and draw Apollo to say nothing about skipping another English lesson. And the whole day was going in the mood of rebellion: leaving the room, going to the canteen without any hunger, being lazy in front of the sheet. Vlad did many jokes and parodies about the snobbish behaviour of art students. I’d laughed to tears the first time since I watched Twelfth night this summer. Long time ago.

I needed something extraordinary. The burst of boredom. Please no more minutes in front of the paper, no more typical talks. Please no! I spoke out to Nastya that I passionately want to haunt, shot the duck, get a dinner with it, play tennis, swim in the lake, fly to Italy, read the book on history and etc. And there was need for love too (unspoken). Girls discussed the initiative of women in relationship. It’s so silly to understand that I live with old-fashioned standards of men fighting for women. It is often controversal nowadays. How could I not notice it and spend lots of time in shadow of bush?

There is a girl – Mary, she is a greatly motivated and inspired student. But the same time she is actively working on building relationship with a boy she likes. Her motto, as it was uttered, is “Fight for what you want. Take the best. Don’t wait at the bush”. I do adore her mindset. That should be me who get the projects and see a boy, always in a good mood, ready to live a bright life. But I’m not. For the reason of… uncertainty. Which I despise mostly.

Am I still going to be a production designer though I feel so much rejection to the process of drawing the set sketches and research of the material world? In practice, there is too much drawing, fast, concrete and decisive. Tell the story by thousand of drawing sheets, please. I like interior design, no doubt. But the work is intensive and and… And what? And I’m not ready for sixteen hours per day for just drawing. I need intellectual work, otherwise I am a piece of rust which cannot retrieve the words.

In general, my life now isn’t the good one. There are many points to improve, get some time, talk to clever persons, drink tea, read books, write notes, travel to Europe. I’m an idealist, yes. I want to have money, independence, creative freedom and family here and now. Please, deliver it to the address ***.

Shift the wind

Somebody likes frivolous girls who change their mind day by day and find the routine daily life boring and hard. Too serious to stay serious. Saving is the gloomy condition of frown eyebrows and accurate accounting nonetheless it cannot save such girls from buying the expensive headphones for five minutes. It cannot restrain from dancing at the cheap market as well as playing with dumbbells at the sport shop. Earnestness has no ability to last endlessly. One moment it just has gone away to make freedom and creativity demand their place.

So the vague idea about world of Shakespeare, Marlow, Wilde and politics does for me. The air of island with old buildings and customs, classic literature, strong film industry allow me to remember the reasons. Reasons are the certain plays and films which struck me deeply one day. Despite all my awareness about concrete possibilities I do love this culture (distantly) more than other Western. I forgot it. We are irrational despite lots of attempts to be reasonable.

The way I went here is drama, the purpose of the way is drama too. My instinct interest are the threads to this. It still drives me crazy like a child with a desired toy. Does it clean everything up? At least it enlighten the big purposes and patterns and certainly it make me dream again. Yep, when I’m a great dreamer, I am a great dealer.

“An education” 2008,  Carey Mulligan

In a word “ignorant”

It’s late morning with all grey colours outdoor. I ate scrambled eggs and some chocolate. I need to go to the next door neighbour to ask for washing. Also I need to finish the canvas and paint another one. This is the plan.

Yesterday I watched video about Harvard admission and after that had felt extremely ignorant and uneducated person. All my activities seemed so slow, weak and not serious and people I connect with – so narrow-minded and little. The other point is the understanding that I’ll never be either in Harvard or Oxbridge. I should say that my little snobbishness dreamed about such kind of education in some farther future, shouldn’t I?

The same time I feel like nothing developing is going on. Talks at the drawing workshop are exactly the same as in college (with little local correction) and the drawing itself doesn’t make me smarter, more collaborative or polite. The old row. Nonetheless, every time somebody touches topics from modern cinema to politics, history and society I have nothing to say. It’s just a vacuum inside my mind which makes me recognise myself as ignorant. I always feel like I haven’t got enough information and have no right to speak out.

Getting that means I don’t believe in my ability to cope with exams harder than state ones.  But I actually can, there is no place for shadows of school years. The bones of the scale grow before 25 and I have 3 extra years which is better to spend on development in all the areas of my life. The question is ‘How’. 0d2215195230e673900d1bae6cc8c1c9

There is still a sense of a square pig at the round hall even if I am sitting with Nastya and her boyfriend Ilgiz and watching late night show. There is something I cannot figure out. But after ten p.m. I begin to stomp and acclaim how much I want to get education and how little I get it now. I remember as clear as it was yesterday that Ilgiz said me on the first grade of the college that I’ll certainly write own books (meaning I was smart enough). I do appreciate his words though there wasn’t any real analyses of abilities. We believe people who believe in us because we are irrational.

I did listen the program “Pozner” while drawing the other plein air leave. Konchalovsky was really enlighten in arts, politics and psychology and he makes films (which are basically not audience ones). Is it possible at all?

I need to attune myself for intensive work as I’m going to hand the pictures at Monday.

Blue mood

Time is still going on, people are still talking and laughing at the tram, making real life a story, a memory. There is still fall darkness out of the window. Straight rays of car headlights. Orange and white versus deep blue. Damn air of October makes it easier, makes it clearer. It makes ideas look like a delirium.

Feverish ideas of dropping out, amending the life, leading it the other way and avoiding frightening things. Those are immense drawing, hard routine of painting, search of props, fuss at the dusty warehouses, dying the sets at the dirty clothes. Are they so terrible? As terrible as a young girl carrying the 100×150 canvases through the town. As terrible as working scars and burns.

But ideas and desires are still there in the heart. Desire to live life, to tell stories, convey ideas (study them firstly), learn new knowledges and skills. Speak out and have worth thing to say. Don’t be narrow, don’t limit yourself, don’t compromise with formalities. Have a way (whatever it means). Have a dream and pursue it.

There is a list at the notebook, it is titled “Things I want to study” and there are not only artsy subjects like architecture and script writing but politics and social studies with business marketing. I feel I need to know how big creative process works. I’m an odd person at the clearly creative community or I just have another mindset. Does it mean I am not at the suitable industry? Does this deviation value anything at all? Is it bad?

I want frightening things in tough industry. Do I really want?


Last day of sickness

It’s ginger plus chrome colour. I’m in the white jacket which is to be washed two weeks ago was carrying the box of milk across the road. The duty doctor didn’t believe my caught – I really did it badly, and closed my sick list. No regrets as I didn’t reckon on any sick list at all (maybe for one day, not three). But why it is so sad to go back to study?

It is a question which made me so sad and abstract yesterday. I woke up with the clearest questions “What I will paint for? Who I try to deceive? Myself? Certainly not.” Some relaxations with the films and painting uncovered some nature of me that was so busy to be noticed. I did a test for profession and got this. It isn’t a proof for something but I personally got that the way of the film decorator doesn’t suit me entirely. Then it ensued hours in front of the different web pages with options, options and options. If my mom could see me she wasn’t happy with it. But to the end of the day my mind became more clear and I just got the idea of doing things. I need to realize my ideas, stay creative, stimulate intellectual work and keep up with majors and minors.

The other thing which came to me during last few months is that we always postpone the things which are most important for us. I stopped this and begun to read Hitchcock\Truffout, watched Nancy Meyers films, posted at the blog and downloaded another app for sat. I don’t work hard and I could have enough time for everything important. And I certainly must do proper research for future opportunities. There is no autopilot but me.


Another day of sickness

There was a cold wind at the empty narrow street without with no colour at all. I crossed the road and came in the hospital. I like to face up the new things and it was interesting for me to see the modern technologies at the state organisation. However, mentality of stuff is the same. Short phrases, no officiality. The talks at the queue were more intelligent that hometown’s ones, but the old women were exactly the same kind. I’d got my reference surprisingly fast and couldn’t believe that I could skip three days of study legally. Such a lucky break!

I did some purchases and went home to dive into the work. I turned on one of the favourite series (or the most one) – ‘House of cards’ from the very beginning and enjoyed their political intricacies.

7635bde829ae79faf847acf555dd7281Despite my awareness of all harm which watching the series or film causes to the process of painting or drawing it is the only way to have work done. The point is that I cannot focus on such academics, I begin to reflect, to think through about everything and at some moment I had found myself out browsing Youtube or any other social media without any intention to work again. But once I turn on any plesant movie the situation changes. It’s a trick. My mind half there and half here, I’m not entirely paint the picture and not entirely watch the film. But I do both.

Reasons for such need in tricks can be covered. While watching I unwillingly consider about various things I want to do or learn in my life. Afterward I called mom and saied how much I needed some action, some interaction, communicion, collaboration and etc. In one word, practice and project.

It’s so nice to not to go to fine art studies.

Day off. Monday

Watching the Nancy Meyers films the second time during two days evidently helps me to do the job I’m reluctant about. I mean plain air pictures. Now I have three not completely finished canvases instead of nothing. I don’t want to listen the silent walls and the gurgling  tubes.Instead of that there is the perfect beautiful world of women over forty with their own houses and grown up children.

That made me consider about my own life by the other angle. They all have some sense of life which I lose so often under the heap of tasks to do. Those are the pleasure of being beautiful, eating delicious dishes, develop diversely all the time, work in favourite field, be the best, be yourself, stay open to people around but be able to defend yourself. In other words, it is full life of well-rounded persons. I look at this like some question to get an answer inside. Do I want this and this or its minor for me and I need different.

So my thinking process was while painting the canvas. Day by day I ascertain more and more that the painting\drawing’s way isn’t completely mine and I need some update. I feel so terrible just imagining the making the canvas and carrying it somewhere, decorating it with the hammer in hands and hanging on the walls. The handicraft is horrible to do by the young girl who wants to wear a white blouse and classic suit. Don’t you think so?06381a099e10c63dfdb248f6cd5e39e3

The other thing which I brought out the films is my necessity to develop my logic. It is absolutely silly now to remember how terribly I did algebra and geometry at school and how good I was at programming pascal. That wasn’t a result of my dullness but scarce motivation for study at all. And presently I have no desire to regret about it but develop logic (it was said to me so often at the college that I have strong logic that I felt absolutely strange).

Moving on to this exact day I must say that I stayed at the hostel to recover from the yesterday’s strange illness though today I’m basically OK. Evidently, I feel tired faster than usual and have some sore throat. The main reason of my skipping the lessons are the lessons. It had to be painting today and my canvas isn’t big enough, the sketches aren’t accepted and there is so little space and light for all of us but as much dirt as possible for one workshop.

Tuesday in trembling

This day went bumpy. I woke up early and did morning routine quietly. The room and walls were cold and distant. In front of the lift doors I tried to smile and be OK in general. But as you could read after the last post I wasn’t generally OK. My desire to go to the institute alone didn’t happen and the whole road I discussed the French culture with Nastya Titova. But my energy was different from what it had been at summer or earlier. I’m a bit aggressive and harsh. It’s not the wished condition of openness and amity.

After the inspiring talk about French culinary we went to the cinema hall to watch our program film. Those were Eisenstain’s and Pudovkin’s pictures about the revolution. My head was splitting because of the storm inside. I was considering about basics of my life, desires, strengths and inclinations on the background of the real state. I brought out nothing from that terrible session of brain storming but headache and one strong point. This strong point was about thing that I had been planning to do since the last years of the college, nothing new.

After the view I crawled to the canteen where the plate of soap and some salad were my only companions at the table (there’s so little space for all of us at the only one table). Upstairs there were the stirring students with their plein air pictures. I hesitated where to go and feebly asked the senior student girl where we are to be. I realized myself being weak and not confident (so strange for me).

That was a lesson of cinema history at the grey shabby class of the art department floor. Such a difference from evening class at the third floor (white screen, many seats and variety of students). As the morning was not productive, that lesson was idle too. I diverted to my deep-rooted reflections very often and couldn’t make out the names or dates. Such a shame to be like that!

Later I didn’t have any desire to be cut at the Mastery. No desire to talk about my project on Chekhov or any other stuff at all. But I was actively drawing the explication and when I sited by the masters there was no trouble. The second master was even amazed with my plans and wondered if I’m going to make the makets so fast. And my fast explication was admitted too as well as the whole process. Such an easiness. I’m OK. I have ideas and interest in the technical side of the production. Interest in production and filming.

Twilight at the autumn road. Bright electric light of white and orange. Wet yellow leaves at the plain asphalt.