I’m stacked. Recently I could spend hours for studying history and English but now I can hardly push myself to think about plein air’s activity. That’s strange and terrible the same time. The action I was eager to do during college years, now is a reluctant thing. My hours are spent with high futility and boredom. I am just afraid of any steps. I’m afraid of looking like I’m not like an artist and vice versa. That’s a headache which worn me out.

June home 104But sure, there are the great educational programs which seem to me interesting. They all require extremely high score at the exams. And I’m afraid I’m not that smart.

Now my inner feeling looks like a bent pet at the corner with no desire to go out and shop. There is nothing I’d like more than calm and clear vision. I’ve spent the whole year on hesitation, doubts, anxiety and low self-estimation. And my life has stopped. My inner force which helped me to move forward and make jokes now is a small and dreamy one. It’s still difficult for me to consider life with gravity. I still have high hopes and dreams. However, my inner voice speaks to me that staying where I am now is not a good idea at all. My inner voice still has this opinion. It still has one.

 

Moscow application 2017

After the kind and lovely film with Jim Carey, after the strange dream at five a.m. I opened eyes at Moscow suburb. There was warm springy Sun and people were slowly going somewhere. Finally, I felt nothing but some faint romantic relief in my breast. The closer I was to the hostel tenser I became. At the dark room at a half to eight, there was my unpleasant roommate. But moreover, her being there, her things were put on my bed in some terrible disorder, there were lots of sacks everywhere. OK, I just had no desire to lecture her, so I was simply angry. Surely, nobody cleaned the common room and the bathroom had become horribly dirty. Someone used my sponge, toilet paper, and dishwashing liquid. Fun isn’t it. That was a point I lost any respect for them. I had to change the room a long time ago and live in a tiny but clean and friendly environment.

Quite strange but my heart was silent while I was going to the Institute (to pay for the hostel) and some thoughts were flawed in my mind. Probably, I exaggerate, but there was an empty space and I couldn’t feel anything warm inside. I didn’t want to be noticed and as fast as I found the cash-desk closed I went away. People who were going there made me feel so different and some kind of lonely.

At the favorite street, I firstly walked a bit to feel that terrific vibes. Then despite all my desire to walk farther, I came back to the library. You know libraries are so good spaces for learning. Even me in a sad state of mind with all those low self-esteem stuff could focus there and just learn something. Before I got hunger I managed many things and came around to the idea of the usefulness of the libraries.

The cafe I came in was as usual wonderful. I took great soap and a potato, I was sitting there “as usual” looking at the people who just had lunch. Only there I could frankly think about changing the wardrobe. Then that was the bookshop where my sense of strangeness was high. I never really buy books. If I buy them it’s never that romantic long process, it’s more like a deal.

Then again library, low self-esteem and the idea that it’s going to fail. At that library, it often comes to my mind that the thing I study is so primary comparing with their exam preparations and other activities. But finally, it’s OK, nobody matters.

After some time I went for a walk at the center. It was shining with Sun and good looking people around. I visited an old bookshop, drunk coffee and ate a burger at the quiet square by the university campus. There was so wonderful sight. And no tourists around. But I must confess that my only and the most important problem is the sharp loneliness. The great city in its blossom but I don’t want anything alone. And I feel even more alienated than ever. Adding the common recent state I try not to cry because of the stupidity of the roommate. Isn’t it silly? I just must work on my network.

good old Sunday evenings

So Sunday is losing its power above everything and concede a place for another study week. I’m in the usual for weekend’s evening after-bath mask. There is a good old comfort of Sunday evening which reminds me school time when we went to the bookstore with parents and made dinner with the noise of comedy show or news. I was reading much more than now.

But surely this day as a few before wasn’t congenial at all. Even today I went out of the room just for “not being in the room alone”. I had delicious noodles for lunch, bought two nice t-shirts at the Russian shop and a stylus for the phone. Even when I went down to the supermarket I could hardly be logical on my own (here we are! ) sadness. It went out of the lack of control over my own life on the day-to-day basis. There is no option of modification or deviation. I have to do what is to be done for the session. And it could be nicely endured by me if it wouldn’t take almost all the time with some dull connections and useless talks. I hate meaningless, and it’s the point. I must remember.

However, as I felt killing time was not my main reason for melancholy, the main one was a well-known sense of loneliness. How unique! My position of double life helped a lot in alienation. People aren’t dull, they see tribesmen. At the supermarket, I saw peripheral vision a known girl standing in the queue. It was like the invasion into my Sunday routine. I run away and hurried up to not to meet her again. Talks and smiles, you know. Nastya is quite happy in her successful private life in the new room. Which is nothing with me at all.

Certainly, I’m going to visit home at the vacation – it’s too hard for me to endure the whole time though I know it’s a good test. But, yes, it’s good to remove some things.

Finally, I cannot throw the study on the road and move forward without, I need to put it into the proper place, get papers and move forward.

Thursday

That was a bright day with all its little miracles and little disappointments.

Yesterday late evening my roommate came for a night. She brought the spirit of irritability and anger in her sharp manoeuvres. I was preparing the report for the art history and was so absorbed by the content that could hardly pay enough attention to her. But the attendance itself really decreased my clear focus and absolute excitement. That night I could hardly sleep and woke up by either light or noise.  (Now I got that I need to watch her by the other angle. I need to be more open-minded, amicable and philosophically calm. And remember that things happen not with us but for us. Maybe she’s cool and interesting though not my type of a roommate)

At the morning I got away very fast and quietly sat at the swimming pool’s hall with my report. While swimming I perceived that my legs reject to work obediently. But the water had become my ally, not an enemy.

It was a rush to hurry up for being in time on the lesson. But I was late for 5 minutes and had to hear the teacher’s cry. Good start. Finally, after the explanation of exam’s structure, she had set that the only report on the book art was to perform. All others were checked by words. The worst happened.

At the hall on the second floor, I was sitting in stupor came by physical tiresome and the dilemma: go or not to the hostel for the pictures to get the mark on the irrelevant subject or not. Then Vlad came and we talked about fifteen minutes in a very fun way. As I observed after he could make people feel comfortable and easy-going. So was I after that fifteen minutes of light jokes and discussions.

The rest of the day there was no actual work but talking, watching and going to and fro. I should value my time more careful.

What a strange day of damp deep gray streets and sadness above all the events. There was an early getting up and productive history lesson (though I didn’t answer questions). But then at the painting, I dived in the process. All waited for Vlad who promised the cakes for today’s celebration. When he came it appeared that he did the cakes by himself at the slow cooker. WOW – was a reaction of all the girls and me.

The celebration itself was actually ok. Certainly, it didn’t make me happy or anything else. It still is rather an obligation for me. Now it heavens with food preferences. The teachers brought the cakes too, and champagne with the appetizer. It was too much. Is alcohol at the midday such a good idea? Maybe from their angle. I diluted it with juice but felt it’s wrong yet. The atmosphere was easy-going, I could hear some close talks at the both sides of the table. But still, it seemed to me boring for some invisible reason.

Afterward, I painted more than usual and left the workshop to rest from all that heaviness. I went out a bit earlier than all as I hadn’t a cartoon for the study. At the hostel, there remained no desire to invest into mastery but to do lovely things. What a dilemma! Being a good student or being joyful.

I need some private life, some people of the institute to go out, talk and drink tea. Sometimes it’s simply terrible to sit in front of the screen in the evenings, without anyone lovely besides.

Meet with Nastya in Moscow

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.10913254422f5447ffc06b2de9914ff7

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.

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How many times should I bump into the other person’s prosperity to learn to stay self-sufficient adult person myself? It isn’t OK at all.

Today was the reality of the girl who I was sitting with at school. She was greatly generous and kind to me and everyone. She flattered me by question about beauty and fashion (that was my glossy magazines’ period) and helped with the tests. Now she is studying at HSE – the school which seemed me so cool when I did my research on the alternatives. I looked at her pictures and felt as exciting those all was.

As to me, I don’t feel any excitement about my study, session, perspectives and basically I perceive myself like a loser. Peter Bregman said that if you wouldn’t hire a stuff knowing the future development, it’s better to fair one now. In my life, I would back in nine years and play it totally different. I would try hard to stay at the first school, finish it good and enter the top university on some humanity science major (or maybe programming – I was at it). Does it mean I should turn out?

While trying to draw I listened the old series which made my days during the crisis at the fourth year’s plein air. It’s Being Erica. Evidently I have some regrets which make me compassion to the protagonist. Maybe I even should write a list just to make it clear.

  • Not entering the English-oriented school
  • Watching so much TV instead of studying at school
  • Failure at the passing exams at the seventh year
  • Transfer to the public school
  • Entering the art college
  • Studying too hard without social life at the college
  • Not changing the direction after the failure at the passing exams at the institute
  • Not good enough result at the state exams
  • And basically I regret about hesitation and shyness with English.

I would like to be a person who honestly says that she doesn’t have any regrets in life. How to prevent regrets in future? Now? As we can see I don’t study by mistakes or I just think so. Of course every point was a lesson, experience, stair to me as I am now. But frankly now I feel like an ignorant loser, not a leader. Surely Woody Allen said he felt like that even now, what to say about me?! It’s not the matter of facts but the matter of perception.

I decided to focus on passing the exams good but today it’s a complete failure. Evidently.

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Certainly this all looks different. The question is: is it really different or the same?

I woke up in time and had a good talk with the girl from cinema studies. We discussed film distribution on the way to the institute. She talked much about weekends and box offices. I listened and commented but basically listened. We went to the class as usual at Mondays and sat together to talk more.

The history lesson was terrific, full of reflection, political games and historical science. I enjoyed the process of thinking and even being ignorant at some points. Pleasure in one word.

Then I immediately was brought back to the same world as it had been week ago. Sleepy Nastya and talks about talks. The free porridge was surprisingly well-cocked and we had a lovely talk with the animation students.

I stretched the paper at the corridor as the workshop was noisy and cluttered. The joyful point is that I liked the reflection in the mirror – firstly while study. Maybe the reason is that I had so much wonderful events which I truly liked and moreover I have begun to think about New Year Eve and found lots of inspiration in considering the menu.

I read the interesting thought. It is about inertia. We continue to do something just because we have already started it. We should ask ourselves either I do this all such way if I knew it be like this. If answer is no, it should be changed, transformed. My answer is totally no. I wouldn’t make choices like I did in past if knew how it works. Clearly it means that I need some corrections. God thanks I’m still young! 22 isn’t the mature age though I feel explicit gap between me and younger students. This is why the decision I made at the history lesson was – read history not fiction now.

The drawing lessons were terrible. Evidently, there were no order, no working discipline by the sitters and reluctant by the students. I got a target to get drawn the head for a day and then move on. So did I in some extent. They talked usual messy talks of exhausted art students. The girls squeaked and moaned. The boys were fooling around. When I took off the headphone to ask the sitter be calmer I’d heard such common hum which I’d never heard even at the worst days at the college.

Of course, nobody was interested in the festival or volunteering. I just felt a bit more confident and went to the dean’s office for clarification of the dates without any hesitation. I did many complements during the day and felt well. But surely the drawing was monotonous, meaningless and long. I could read something instead.

For some reasons (runny nose is one of them) to the end of the lessons I had no former desire to attend physical lesson. I went to the drugstore, grocery and went in the hostel when all were inside the gym. So I told Mary to write me down. The good news is that I met the cinema studies’ girl Sasha and got her contacts.

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?

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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.
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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.