This day was quite strange (as all days when I write are). I woke up slowly and being aware of time and place. It was grey and white behind the curtains. Probably it had been snowing all night. Good exercises and the memory of yesterday night’s film made me feel fresh and alive.
As a matter of fact, it was SW I watched. And the funny thing is that I didn’t plan it I just felt terribly sad and lonely. Recently I’ve been using Social Media control app and extension, that allows me to use addictive sites only 30 minutes per day. And as a result, I had and still have a terrible craving for it. But it’s constructed in a way you can’t fix it or change on the same day. So I was locked out of all those stupid videos and articles while the day was grey, studies went slow and unemotional at all (like you expect emotions from studies). The fresh walk made me realise that I need to watch films like I did before. Watch the classic ones from the lists and the premieres. I crave for visiting theatres and having thoughts and emotions there.
At the weekend I had finally finished reading a marvellous book about the script writing by McKee. It spoke out loud both my own ides and his better structured and observant studies. It filled me with the excitement of discovery, a desire to observe and notice. It was like I’m again a girl going crazy by Chekhov’s plays and ready to analyse, imagine and declare it with irrational eager.
One thing he (McKee) wrote was right about the effect films can have on people. The emotions they create leave in the theatre, but the mood can chase us for hours, days, weeks, months, even for years. And it seems right, I don’t feel the emotions I had while reading Harry Potter’s fifth book, but the mood is still there. The same is truthful for TLJ. Thought the climaxes excite and terrify me every time, it’s only the mood, the image, the smell of it that stays with me in time of “real life”. It’s the wide beauty I rose in my mind, but not entirely the product of the filmmakers.
And it seems like a full circle back to love for films and drama I’ve lost. Such inner sense makes me feel almost surreal in normal life. This shuck just cannot be taken seriously.
I’m happy, I’m smiling, I feel free. And no matter I’ve just come home from the third viewing of the Eighth episode. I blamed myself a long time, pushed down and forced to not to give in desires. But afterwards, I gave my free will space, I allowed myself to not to be adequate and socially confirmed. I did what I liked to. And now I feel free and light. I made a promise to myself to not to read articles about the ninth episode, no theories, no photos at Kinopoisk. I’m going to forget about it for two years and when it comes I will simply watch a trailer and go to the cinema as an obligation without any idea what emotional impact I had.
This morning I’ve got that there is no point in creating a new script in my head. It’s already written by professional script-writers, and I have no power to influence them. I have no control over it, so I’m better to stop supposing, assuming and making up my own story.
Today I have seen emotions, and inner intentions even more clear than before. Surely, I was calm and observant. The freshness of the picture went away as well as those deep emotions I had. Rationality and calmness have stayed.
I was thinking over my first reaction and found out some answers to the questions of my own behaviour. I’m truly vulnerable to big emotions, I can feel pain made by people. Therefore I try to avoid pain and other emotions too. Just in case. I can feel an offence or excitement too deeply to stay strong. And emotions are overwhelming, they take a lot of energy (or give it) so it’s easier to escape. Probably, this pattern made me feel connected to the Kylo Ren’s story. Finally, I could see myself in the piece of art.
P.S. When I was climbing up the stairs it just came to my mind that partially Kylo Ren is right. Past must die. But I attach myself so often to the past situations, relationships, and dreams. I know Nastya has her own life without me, there is no place for me. I know it, but I still feel a bit offended by her silence. It hurts me that she hasn’t spoken to me anything about her current love relationship (and I know why). I must let it free. Those are her choices, which are not under my control. I must release past when it goes away, and start anew without any regrets and complaints. I’m better to leave the personal failures in the past and goes forward freely.
Sometimes I need to pour out my thoughts and feelings. This is such case. Yesterday we went to watch the new Star Wars episode. I hadn’t any expectation but simple desire to watch something interesting. I’d completely forgot effect the previous episode had on me. I forgot how inspired, lighted and worried I was. But yesterday there were just bad seats, 3d glasses, expensive pop-corn and a child sitting beside me. Not a perfect viewing at all. But it turned out to be.
Immediately I was involved in the plot, into the character’s hesitations, searches, and determination. The quantity and quality of dialogues amazed me, especially the ones between Kylo Ren and Ray. Oh, what a frame of them touching hands is! I could follow all those doubts and desires of the main characters (Kylo Ren especially). For me that all was about humans. There was a scene, fight between Finn and some general. One moment his helmet was broken and we could see a human eye inside it. That’s major.
I slept badly last night, when something touches me so deeply I process it inside until I’m done. Even now when I’ve read many reviews and articles by film critics I feel the same excitement and sensation as yesterday. It’s kind of detoxication I always have about the great films. Last time it was The silence by Scorcese.
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.