Presentation day and education thoughts (as usual)

After yesterday’s occasion with the absence of the majority of the students, I was up to attend the first lecture today (8.20 AM). But I feared to miss the alarm clock so much that I couldn’t sleep until 3 AM. And then, yes, I skipped the first lecture. But the morning was good despite all the strangeness of rehearsing the presentation on my way to the bus stop. (Yes, I speak to myself in English about all those marvelous topics). Today I presented the British Parliament. I was the second presenter. And I must say it was a bit better than the last time, at least I caught the attention of some students (normally nobody listens) and talked almost everything but the numbers by myself, I even improvised. It was short though the topic is huge and very interesting. However, I was satisfied with my presentation.


The rest of the time I couldn’t get what drives me crazy more: boring, impersonal downloaded somewhere presentations of the students or the silent content of the teacher. It is clear that the axis here is the pluses, marks, and exams, not the knowledge. Yes, they probably make the presentation in PowerPoint and print a list of the text (some even highlight is). Yes, they can read it aloud more or less accurate. But if I ask anyone about the content, it’s a crash. There is no comprehension of the subject and what is sadder, there is the complete absence of any interest. It looks like they don’t care to be curious and the teacher doesn’t care to have the curious student (as far as she doesn’t have it by herself).

I read in one long article about education that pupils\students at the modern school rather “busy with school” than with “learning”. How truly it is!

Whatever, I personally got the strategy of being what I want to see in the world (at least I try my best) and not idly complain about everything. I cannot make them understand the value of time and education but I can do it by myself.


All this warmth and all this coldness.

I overslept for a half of an hour and did exercises in a rush instead of a jog. Mom boiled some porridge for us and we had breakfast together in the sunny kitchen. During the road through the chip district, my head was light and empty, the same continued when I entered the University without paying any attention to the crowd of young applicants in front of the gym. While the exam passport was given I interacted with a girl who was coming to the English exam too. In spite of her medical background, she seemed boring – who does the cheat sheets before the very exam? We were sitting in the empty auditorium for about fifteen minutes in total boredom. I had managed to notice the leak in the ceiling, construction of the tables (which weren’t tables but the composition of iron balks and countertop), newness and the cheapness of the building. I’d noticed the silly phrases hand written on the table. Twice I was recognized as a teacher.

Then the woman came in and for more ten minutes set the equipment. The papers she gave us were surprisingly familiar. That was the first option on the site I used. Some answers were familiar even before the listening. The critical moment was speaking as I remember that there needed a structural answer but I hadn’t rehearsed any answers at all. I did some mistakes while speaking and heard it. After that boring process, I returned to writing. I rewrote three paragraphs about space. That seemed more or less interesting. After completing all the papers I got out of that cold chip auditorium.


The Institute and this University have in common bad new construction – painted walls and new doors, but they are the same impersonal and cold. You know, organizations built something new because of the pure need, and in this necessity very often makes them neglect aesthetics. After a few years, such building starts being and looking like unpleasant woodshed with broken parts but still able to work on the main purpose. Like an ugly loo.

There is a plenty of things I could reflect on after that exam. The main was the same. “What do I do? I’m not going to be a linguist and work on an employer. ”

Hot weather makes us all feel dizzy and unconscious. It was a great idea to swim at the pool after lunch.

Tuesday in a room

I want to be honest with myself and not hide my own laziness and weakness in perspective of the future rereading of these notes.

The whole day I could observe the variety of gray clouds above geometry of housing area. It went to the right verge of the window as well as rare planes flying somewhere from the nearest airport. My sketches were put on the bed in order to be observed, and pencils were at the table to use them directly. I did draw the sketches, yes. But the more frequent move was the escape. It took different forms like watching book reviews, refreshing Instagram, reading the university sites, making tea, eating dried fruits, going to the kitchen to fry the lunch. After the midday, I went to the idea of “just listening” the film which led me to Virginia Woolf’s writing – “The hours”.

After the midday, I went to the idea of “just listening” the film which led me to Virginia Woolf’s writing – “The hours”. Maybe, my vision changed by the influence of constant watching the classic, but it seemed me so scarce and hard to understand that couldn’t believe I liked it years ago.


In a word, the whole day I tried to avoid working on the mastery in a proper way. But the truth is that I must do this and there is no other way but actually working on it. It reminds me the way I successfully avoided some tasks on the book art course; I had them done as quickly as possible in the most concentrated condition (which is the effort, not the mood to wait). So I need to have this done, it’s decided.

Perhaps, I can sound pathetically, but I suppose I need to come back to the idea of the essence of life. It means the understanding of every single day as a part of your own life. Nobody procrastinates in dreams, but everybody achieves. Isn’t it simple? What is great and exciting for me to achieve during this seven weeks? The answer is certainly not “have watched all book reviews on YouTube” or be in touch with every picture on Instagram. Sometimes I really want to turn them off and leave only the Anki-droid and Dictionary.  As I understood I totally cannot accept the work on somebody, I need to be responsible and independent. (the bad side of which is inconsistency and uncertainty) I need to feel my own control over my own life.

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.

Finally, a pretty quiet evening with the mask for my face and some tea.

Yesterday evening the time when my next door neighbour shouldn’t come it was the neighbour of my room who went so unexpectedly. She did so before at the midnight when I and mom were sleeping early to go to the airport the next day. That was totally terrible. Yesterday it was eight o’clock – thank for that. I had known that she is a cinema scholar and basically happy to have studied here. As she said: it’s very specific school. And her rustling packets filled the little table I used as a dressing table again. The rest of the evening I couldn’t focus on my reading (for mastery) and diverted to the observations. At one level I tried to pursue myself in reasonability of keeping doing my business at the other level it was evident that it’s a chance to become a bit more familiar to each other, but the third idea grounded on the first bad experience and desire to live alone asserted me to be no more than formal and living my own life. I wanted to go to sleep early as got tired by two busy days. I read an article, worn the earplugs and sleeping mask, and the whole two or three hours of light on made unlucky attempts to sleep. I heard the noises and thought that it’s the way she wants me to treat her in the morning. In the student hostel, you are treated as you treat. The whole night I struggled with the whirl of ideas in my mind but mostly unsuccessfully.

At the morning with no excuses, I did my exercises and the rest of the morning routine. My heart was unusually disquieting, though. The damming loud sound of cinema about the World War two didn’t help to put me together and write something. All people around seemed freaks which I did not want to mix with. The terrible feeling of the ugly duckling and boredom of society. Strange, but in a moment I turned out from the idea of socializing to the comfort zone where I can mull over the life.

The films were interesting at some points but all were frozen and annoyed with the grieve and suffering at the screen. I was happy to warm up at the canteen where I took a real coffee and enjoyed the sunshine. Then the unpleasant and oddly unfriendly stir with the receipts. (some people still have Soviet mentality).

Usually, I do like lectures on cinema history but today it seemed so little and boring that I did notes only because of the forthcoming exam. My mind couldn’t focus a long time and regularly asked me for an aspirin. The weakness of body and spirit which I use as a justification of my closed nature. I just cannot fake an interest many times. This is why it was a great relief to see that there was no real mastery lesson but easy discussion of the detectives. Margo makes me smile – she is so young, pretty and easy-going that I feel the same besides.

At the hostel, allegedly there was nothing to do I just ate Hermann and watched the late show episode. Things which make my heart a bit lighter. Finally, I don’t have to rueful, I can be myself though it means some openness in order of study and talks.

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 ***.

Day before the beginning

Yes, it’s time. It is a shower outside and the neighbours are here. I cannot understand how people live like this for years.
For me this day began late, I went for run at nine thirty. My routine road to the pond was fresh. I run there even more fast than usual. There were many runners and dog-bredders. I observed the group of garbage-collectors who were just talking at the bench and the people at the boat who cleaned the whole pond from the green algae. A girl with a vup of coffee was wondering around and the woman was read the fat book. However, it showered at my last round. The way back I did long. I run to the upscale cafe, to the strange neo-gothic building where I was banished from. At the hostel I did all things which I was dreaming about the whole time under the rain.
I didn’t want to go out and do something special. That was some different kind of lazziness as some form prediction from being crammed and tired. However I went out and directed the Kremlin. By the way I recognised some streets and buildings again. That became easier to orginise mind map. But basically I felt boredom and tiredness by that wandering. I visited GUM and the bookstore Moscow but my desire to buy some book (there are many reading people) and my pragmatic mind didn’t blend together.
I was passive and a bit sad while the way to the institute. There I tryed to alarm quickly and ask questions. That was another situation to the last year. They talked everything in very detail with jokes and answers on questions. Of course, I could critise them by something but basically that was what they are. I can’t accuse them in this. And frankly I don’t want to think about this now.
I found out Nastya quickly and we went out. We turned the corner and saw window outside which it was shower. We waited some time and knew that we both applied to the local uni just in a case. Later it became more and more burdensome to lead the conversation with her. She wants to look better, cleverer and generally more sly than she is. And it’s boring to try to guard my confidence and way of life. To say simple, I feel old beside her.
Let it be.


I’m still here and going to write anything. You know this is the one of my daily points and despite emptiness there should be something.

The weather is so sunny today that I can feel warmth of it’s rays on me. Let me be an enthusuast today, give me some strenght to continue my preparation and not give up at the middle of the way. This is the process of breaking. I know that those are my obligations, but I feel a bit tired with all their ethical ideas.


It seems so far away from the life while there is no life. They all speak things that are near to the truth but being near it doesn’t penetrate into me as a clear idea how to modify my own life to be better. The modern self-development books really more helpful than Dostoevsky’s. At least for me. And there is the question is fiction book a place for declaring ideas or it is more a piece of art. And does it really fruitful to convey notions through fiction? As for me scintific facts can change my behaviour more than tales. Thought tales have their own power on my mind and mood, it can’t change the life. Absolutely. It’s not about how to be happy and prosperous, it is rather research of life as a process than the leader. Nobody presume to understand politic after reading a fiction book about politicians’ lives, it’s rediculous.

However, fiction is about stories and the meaning they have.