The early morning call by my mom made me get up. She was to enter the town. I did my exercises, make-up and all other morning routine. I was waiting for her at the entrance hall by the aquarium. Fast and easy were happened to be at my room where she could evaluate the coziness I made. Delicious regular breakfast with hometown sweets. There were some new jars at the fringe. Though I looked fresh my manners were closed and awkward.
The way to the visa center we were talking about all different minor things. The path led by Google wasn’t right because of the fence. Mom amicably asked the cleaner and he gaily told us everything. The yard of the centers was typical for any public service. The polite man at the entrance helped us to figure out what to do in the process which was simple and therefore not so magical as British one. My mind blurred away and I didn’t understand anything. Thank God, mom organised all that stuff – mine responsibility is the cultural program and logistic. So we were photographed (really bad), fingerprinted (not impressive). As for me that didn’t have such special spirit as real consulates have (that was just the visa centre).
We went out with some lightness by done task. As for me I felt the hardship inside. Some terrible inner pain which reason was in her desire to pay for my study and continue all this tiresome stuff. I kept silence while we went through the grey district to the metro station.
During the way we decided to go away at the center and visit my favorite cafe. The exit wasn’t right but for some reason we found the other cafe of that label. That was a place, menu and time I like mostly. The spirit of young and fresh center with deep background. We both took the cream soups and I added the cake, she added the Quiche. That was as noisy and vital as usual. I could feel so free and easy to think up ideas and talk about positive things like Czech beer, dreams coming true and the historical spirit of the central district – the only place where Moscow is actually Moscow. The conversation was like close friends’ meeting at the coffee shop. Evidently I didn’t want to finish that, but we had to. For some short moments of drinking black tea with tasty curd pancake I even could feel happiness. While we were waiting for a bus she noticed the way people wear here. It totally depends on the district.
At the station it turned out that the next bus was at six this is why she decided to put me on the bus and wait at the train station. That was cold and uncomfortable. She said I looked sad, so I was. I didn’t want to go to my district, to the hostel, to the institute, to the tasks, to all those people. She offered to buy a ticket and ride with her. But I took a bus and moved to the North with some music. En route it turned out to be the accident with three cars. As we stopped I decided to go to the hostel instead of the meaningless lessons and went though the park.
Those were stones inside my breast, stones of low self-esteem, doubts and fear. I’m twenty-two and I don’t feel like I know who am I. Does anybody know for sure at all?
Such beautiful pictures in the purple haze of optimism and inner aspiration to come pictures true. Pictures of places, actions and possible complications. All that went to my mind in the grey lit room with a cup of coffee and some YouTube videos about study.
Even when I came to the art department with the white wave paper it seemed magical. Allegedly, I was in the college I coloured and stretched the paper, talked to people easily and jumped to and fro in the desire to actively do something. The sets were not excellent to avoid my criticism, but good enough to draw. I started with the charcoal and did everything as I knew. The teachers went to suggest something, but recently I was insensible to all their advice (not good argumentation). I do by the ideas put into my head at the college and I am not to alter or even adapt to someone’s vision. It hasn’t the price it require.
After the lunch the scandal repeated. The boy asked the sitter to pose for him at the long break so when I came back from the canteen they were working again. After that the sitter hurried out the workshop to smoke and eat. (What!!) But he unyildingly replied that he’d been sitting enough to get a break. And people were embarrassed. All tried to figure out how that happened. In a moment the fire was flamed. Mary cried on Sasha and he cried on her. But the point was clear, Sasha neglected the common agreement for a schedule and stirred everything. To understand how that was going I should say that both fucked each other twice or more, cried at each other. Finally Mary tried to calm down and pressed him saying she’s not going to cover him for skipping the lessons. And all went on the bad language level. I was standing in a shock, thinking what to do and either it worths interacting. Finally, they quarreled, we all kept tense silence and the sitter was getting his lunch.
The rest of the study I rather forced myself to draw than positively (as the first hour was) tried to manage that faster. Me, Mary and our female sitter were analysing the boy’s behaviour and possible future strategies to avoid the open conflict. We changed the topic and some way begun to discuss me. The sitter said I was updated as I’m aware of some ideas. The minute after the flattering I asked them to stop praising me. The respond was kind of clever in the context. She said I’m afraid of being in the spotlight. It struck me immediately and the finish of talk I can’t remember. Basically it’s true. I’m afraid of attention. The evident drawback is luck of male attention and opportunities to be noticed. I did contemplate on this idea the rest of the day and understood the roots but didn’t got the healing.
As the day finished, the damp street and electric light let me breath and remember the morning vision. The real stuff is kind of distracting. It’s not the meal I’d like to feed myself.
In spite of the fact I overslept my morning history preparation the day went relatively well. And all high spirit was because of the yesterday’s meet with Nastya. We met at the first McD’s in the city. Everything was strange (another town for a meet, me in the other role, her in more adult position) and utterly friendly. We were completely the same. And that was the wonderful issue which relieved so much. I spoke a lot as immediately I could feel as free as never before at Moscow. No secret in my disappointment in profession. She said that I always could reapply to the different major as I’m not as old as it could be. One of her course mate was forty years old.
We talked at the closing ceremony of the theatre design exhibition. There were many young set designers – artists in a word. Strangely, she did not talk to other colleagues and was quiet closed. She said, she’s not outgoing and I said I found out I like to mix with people. But I didn’t and accompanied her as a good friend at the unfamiliar environment. I did say a lot about study, my thoughts and even about some ideas. She got very politely some of my intentions and even supported. I hadn’t to make an impression of an artist – such a relief. It’s allowed to think about profits, structures and meanings, not only about images.
We agreed to meet at the vocation and go to skate at the park, said warm good-bye and thank you. Certainly that short meeting was helpful for both of us. She works too much and go out of the box quiet seldom. I couldn’t walk with her to the station, as underground closes at one a.m. and there wouldn’t be a chance to go to the hostel. So I left her with the curator who helped her to take off her puppets.
Today that was much easier to work with full concentration. I saw perspectives, possibilities and felt the desire to pass the session as good as possible. I am alive, not dead.
If it happens for me to be upset, this day is an example for such condition. I overslept my morning tasks and English lesson. My calm innocent time. I changed the linen and packed all things, went out with classical music in the headphones. In the elevator I met the animation’s boy. We spoke a bit about the exams and came to the point of English and the state exams. I didn’t prepare for social studies and passed it with 63, he didn’t prepare for English and got 97, me – 80. Those are only standardized tests but in the whole picture of my insufficiency that was unpleasant.
So, black lines and white everything else on the streets, me listening Mozart as a part of mind cleaning and usual road. Undoubtedly, I was late on 10 minutes though nobody noticed. Then it were hours and hours of drawing or pretending to be drawing. Talks were common despite the fact that at the beginning I could even make jokes and laugh at something. Going out for a lunch I realized that I wanted some privacy, some place to feel comfortable. I took the cellophane salad and sat to unknown girls. The other day I would speak with but then I just ate. At the way up I met Sonya, she energetically spoke to me about her two ideas for the mastery. The option of saying about my mastery project wasn’t good for positive talk, so I tried to say something on Pozner’s film.
At the lesson I was quiet inert, read the article, wrote the texts and listened to the teacher. He worked enthusiastically, but I did not care about the drawing. And to say honestly, he is not concrete: “this area” is not the name of the bone and “shade” doesn’t define the form. Vice versa. I understand how it must be but there is no interest in achieving. Looking around on other people and listening to inner voice, I more and more understand that I am not an artist. And I don’t want to train for being one. I’m not. Certainly. Evidently.
The perspective was my best time as I could train my brain and just enjoy time. Though I still afraid to be myself and speak out as others do. Scrolling Instagram I saw one picture (there are a lot you know) and one thought came to me. I want to have a home with family, constant possibilities to study, work on the projects, let children learn everything, connect with interesting people and travel freely. All I want is a little strong thing called happiness (personal and professional)
After yesterday’s late watching the film, I hardly could get up at usual 5 o’clock. So I went out the hostel a bit late but still manageable to come in time. Leaving the building I could see the two girls who usually go such time. Regularly I come to them and begin to chat about nothing and very fast I have to listen silly reflections on evident things. But today the only perspective of listening their rubbish made me control the speed, look carefully and try not to talk to them at all. That became strange as soon as they noticed me. At the last turn I spoke to them about my history purchases but it hadn’t become a conversation.
At the history auditorium it was dark and the students were sitting with their cellphones. I sat to Nastya but quickly went to turn on the light. Then it was possible to say hi to everyone and sit besides one of the cinema studies’ student. During the lecture itself I felt so happy to think and be able to recognise some facts. So the mist of Russian past is slowly disappearing. That was the best lesson of the day and as a result I had a few leaves of notes and ready plan to read up about the topic.
The only reason to sit with sleepy Nastya at the free breakfast time was my reluctance to go directly to the workshop. That was boring as usual. The first lesson of painting is perfect time to work a bit harder than typically, so I do. Everyone was focused on the set and did what had to be done at the normal study. The teacher’s advice and approach couldn’t touch or influence on me. I didn’t want to go out to look at the evident imperfections to the corridor therefore he said literally “Why you are so lazy!”. Common baby, face up someone’s puerility!
After the insipid lunch the painting went worse. In a moment the case became harder and much more tiresome than before. Music helped a little but I still was in a condition of boredom. The last lesson my main entertainment and food for thought was T. Chernigovskya’s lecture. That was a rain for the dried desire of my mind. Another brain stimulation which proof for me again that I NEED to read clever books and connect with clever people this or that way.
The thought she said at the very beginning and which is so similar to my own condition now, was about her profession. She got the place at the university as an English teacher, but after a year of teaching she was terrified by the idea of wasting her life on lecturing the grammar rules and being bored all the time. So she diverted to Cognitive Science. The evident parallel to me standing in front of the canvas in great drabness forced me to think clearly and bigger. I’ve already got a good an idea, but there is still some doubts.
With the lecture I could turn off the world of vulgar straightforward talking and total distraction. I could laugh at her smart jokes and make quick notes by the way. Look up Schrodinger’s cat. There are so many curious things and not answered questions, there is a space for contemplation. And this make me feel better despite the need for progress in the Mastery.
Snowflakes in the windy air of relaxed town rotated so beautiful that I immediately forgot about all that weekly hardship. Mary didn’t come in time as usual and moreover she called me to say she was in the bank because of some ATM problem. We agreed to meet at the center. I was too relaxed to exchange the idea of walk to hostel’s routine. So I went there and we meet at the underground. That’s not so good to meet after the delay and my discontent.
At the streets we immediately ensued to be at the book store where I was looking for the history textbook while she glimpsed some bestsellers. Surely, I was fond of beautiful cover design and quality of production for all books around. But as usual I rationally got the needed textbooks and we directed to the coffee shop.
As far as I saw that I’d got that all I want is to eat something not just drink coffee. And we left the student-oriented modern cozy cafe, did two steps right and entered the Georgian cafe. That was full and noisy. Children who produced a lot of noise were at the workshop on making the cakes. That was a lovely picture of kids romping with pastry and the mold. The interior was full of New Year decorations like the tree and wreathes, warm lamps created private atmosphere though there were two simultaneous birthday parties.
It was pretty upscale for me, but I tried really hard to choose the affordable dishes. Our talks were scarce. That was really hard for me to think up something clever and fun the same time, to find some topic I will passionately provide and discuss. My weekly obsession and desire to get out emerged. It was almost said that I’m not glad with study process. I couldn’t see any theme out of my daily life with tasks and people to speak or not. Life in the box.
She was in the light dress with flourish prints. Her talks about the yoga workshop and psychology books were kind of common. Self-development and comfort zone concepts. But after all tea, coffee and hatchapuri we went to the snowy little street. the way was long and strange but we managed to speak out.
You know the problems are the same for all of us. The conflicts with neighbours, desire for private life and better living conditions for making a family. She wants to get a family but this is hard in the big glamorous city. Boys like easy life without responsibility, as she said. So Mary decided to go back to the hometown in a year if the situation will stay the same. Happiness is more important than legitimacy.
So we said good-bye at the metro crossroad and I went down with light rested mind.
The one stupid thing at the morning totally changed the day. My alarm clock didn’t work. I opened eyes feeling the light out of the curtains. Strange thing for the morning in Moscow. I thought it’s Wednesday and quietly reflected on the dream. I saw some preparation philosophy course where the lector came to one student during the break and ask either he knows foreign languages or no. He said no and the lector directly responded that he wouldn’t attend in this case. So was my strange dream.
The morning I had to be at the cinema hall watching the Soviet films. But I did read the articles on them and watched the extracts. For some reason, my skip didn’t worry me at all. I ate the soup at the canteen in the company of the girls (such a boring company) and watched the people around.
During the lecture I observed the teacher. She was clever and good-looking (for her age) the strategy seemed smart and interactive. Students could feel free to express their impressions. Her tale about the famous director was full of bright details. I looked at her and some ideas came to mind. The ideas about life and happiness, and pleasure. The vague but so explicit ideas of life I want to lead. The clear image of society I want to be a part of, the lifestyle including lifelong self-education, visits to theatres, museums and other cultural places, the sturdy family relationships, good stylish apartment, the great profession which is a part of me. Piano music by the real piano. And in a moment everything seemed clear, understandable and possible.
Moreover, I got that I need to demand more from myself to fill the gap between the idea and reality. Presently I live like in a dream, not like in a real world. I cannot look at other people’s faces and frankly say something like “I work on my becoming a production designer” or “I do everything to achieve my goal”. Actually I am between, not within.
There was a lesson of the mastery then. I did talk a lot and felt quiet good being so indifferent about the pictures in the plastic bag. Mary offered me a project again. I couldn’t reject the other way than just taking her along and talking to her strangely. She very quickly asked me either I was burnt out at the profession and wasn’t I going to study the whole year. Talking to her a bit was my relief. The way down on the old staircases was the easiest for the whole time. The road to the art store I listened the Russian history and felt so good. The work is ahead.
There are many things I could describe and contemplate on, but the major question for this moment is “What is the relevant thing to do right now?”. Being so excited by UN history, behind the scene videos, ideas coming to (or found at) my mind, new aquantences and another new meets at the canteen, I try not to lose the guide line. Not to diverse to everything I like so much and stay at the way of passing exams. Though I’ve decided to keep up with my own interests, read and watch things I really like. The reason is “I restraint myself all the time in term to be good at something” I’m not good at anything and often I feel exhausted by routine mode and many compromises. I do not like compromises, I like dreams coming true. That’s what I like and will prefer above normality and looking as a typical artist. I’m not, so it’s time to be myself.
This day was nice and full of talks and simultaneous ideas struck into my head.
The morning was calm and usual. I filled in the last spread at the blue notebook. The content was the schedule of work to do for getting everything done – it is very sobering. Then I read aloud my history report, got the idea it’s an evident failure of thought and go out to the institute.
On the way I met a girl who once said “How can you be bored studying at vgik?”. We discussed Russian history, the fiction cartoon on historical protagonists, dentists, sleep mode and just the history reports. So we went to the class where I stand up the first to talk. I felt that I my speech was uneven and voice was hoarse. To my mind it was terrible. The message I could convey was incoherent, pictures were scarce and not as good as could. There was some applause when I sat down. Of course I immediately took the notebook and wrote some notes on better farther appearances. Surely I need and want more presentation practice.This is like a theatre of ideas.
I talked with one people en route to the canteen, then with other on the table, farther I met a girl at the elevator and conversed with her the rest of the lunch break. That was Sonya who I met at the first and second swimming’s training. Like me she hardly can swim therefore we were at the same track trying not to drown. We basically discussed the situation (politics or strategy) of institute’s masters and great luck of major study. She described in all details the process of homework discussion with their teacher. That’s ridiculous and sad. It’s sad because of a lot of time killing instead of analyses, theory, troubleshooting and real working. She graduated from the famous Moscow school without any problem in science but she decided to attend to the art school to satisfy some inner desire. And now as she said her behaviour is kind of rebellion from the typical. Sonya doesn’t take part in the idle long chatting at the workshop and just do her work on the projects. We flattered to each other about the level of the speech, she said I liked to connect with her because of the speech not the age (18) evidently. It was totally fine to talk with her.
Controversially to our intelligent clever talk was the noise of girls at the anatomy. That was so embarrassing to find out that the normally looking girl with good speaking on cinema actually has some age problems (sexual character). After the lesson I needed some rest from all those people and silly talks. I took the snickers, sat at the new second on the sofa and for five minutes just ate the chocolate.
The next lesson at the cinema class was usual, quite usual. The teacher incoherently remembered his life experience and collaboration with artsy people. The film on “Gladiator” production had some interesting details but was basically entertaining and this is why noisy and full of water. Margo slept on the film so I couldn’t discuss anything with her.
The last lesson I struggled to read the article about UN. The pleasure of new information versus tiresome and noise of lecture. The way back to the hostel I talked to Vlad about hot 2012 year when the election happened. Now I am sitting here, need to revise the english lesson and go to sleep.