As I tweeted on the lack of time today equals no time for something at all. I mean time won’t multiply it only decreases. So if we don’t have time for something valuable today, surely, there won’t be time for this in future. We must understand it. We all are going to die, we all are going backwards, not forward. So, there is no point in hesitating, waiting for some better time in future, there is no point in sitting and expecting everything to come to you by itself. Tomorrow won’t be better if you are not better today. Now! Things happen accidentally when everything is ready for this (consciously or not). Luck works for people who work on their life.
I must accept that time is against me, it takes no second chances, only one for one day. But I personally quite often feel like time is limitless, it spreads, it’s flexible. But it’s not. It’s not.
I wrote this post although there was one strong excuse for which is “I want to read and go to bed early enough, but tomorrow”. Frankly speaking, every day I am not actually going to write the posts but I intend to do it every day. I reckon myself as a diary person. But I am not a dairy person, I am not a person who writes own thoughts while I don’t actually do it.
Recently I notice the need of strong deal in my life, clarity and meaning. I need some certain desires about my actual life.
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.
Another morning at my room with coffee and chocolate.
There is a point I mull over quite frequently. It’s not even a point but the condition I am in. Meaning all this stuff with the study, with people around, all my achievements in social life which are scarce. Yesterday I was watching an interview with Michelle Obama and constantly was being inspired by her position on life. “I’m a captain of my soul, I’m a master of my fate” and “if you can’t control your life, somebody else will do this”. They were so well-balanced, so profound in their approach and priorities. The both said the first thing someone should do is understand yourself. After that, I frankly passed the real psychological test and got a result which is the same time obvious and hidden. I’m an abstract thinker with the creative mind, it’s more comfortable for me to work by myself or with a few people. It also said that such big dreamer can be editors, philosophers or CEO. Fine, isn’t it?
After that, I frankly passed the real psychological test and got a result which is the same time obvious and hidden. I’m an abstract thinker with the creative mind, it’s more comfortable for me to work by myself or with a few people. It also said that such big dreamer can be editors, philosophers or CEO. Fine, isn’t it?
The other thing I truly got out of all this time in the institute is that whatever you want to transform into, you’ll feel happier being yourself. And development is being the best of yourself. Which means being not different but better. It’s easy though it went in a way of disappointment – I couldn’t manage so my connection as it was necessary for success in this field. It’s overwhelming. (it’s not all I wanted to say but my time is over)
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.
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.
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.
Despite 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.
So, today after I got the important information, I have realized how harsh and cruel the entrance process should be this year.
I had great dreams by the treiler of the new film with Cumberbetch. It was full of magic and sense of drama. The quarrel between two girls, the confusion at the Oscar and shining water.
As exercises were done I dove into the storyboarding and was doing it before the very dinner. I begun the new one as the previous had been done but after some time my concentration flew away. I watched the new trailers and read the entry requirements. It was terrible to know that the commercial places were cut to two against five. And it returned me to the horror of forthcoming severe fight. I shouldn’t think about it much but take it into account to stay active. However it makes me feel like I really am to entry and I am really serious about it. Earlier I aproached to this like something predeteremined and natural but now I got that there is a lot to do by myself. It must push me on.
At the bookshop there were many album of graphic and illustration. For half of an hour or more I plundged into the magical world. And I must say that if Dore be contemprorary he would work at cinema. His little great pictures are films without the cameras or something else. I was inspired by the Shakespeare’s and other classical illustrations.
But it was drizzling and sky looked dark. I called mom but there was a little to say and we just talked about all kind of stuff. It’s two weeks before the train, it’s ten days I’ve been here.
I knew I will have such a confusion being here without a clear plan. On one hand I must study and develop on the other hand being here is a chance to connect with huge number of people. Even now I have already mixed with many people. With the neighboors at the begining and the friend from my town. People are quiet different though there are similarities.
One my neighboor is a girl who studied art at the province and came here to find a job as a designer. The first day she had been sitting in front of the laptop the whole day without any outing. We talked about people who came at Moscow, tried to make the way and after a year of attempts went back to the hometown. I added some stories but didn’t try to support her mood. Her mood is hopelessness. She talked much about her unlucky generation that was so huge in number that everywhere there was a cram. When all entered universities it was hard, when they looked for family it was hard, when they got a job it was hard. At any step she saw obstacles which she couldn’t overcome but only be hurt by them. At the same time I could observe her wasting time in front of the computer in slowness and uncertainty. This morning I asked her about education. She doesn’t have an ability to pay for the second higher education and have a slight idea about people who change their specialisation sharply. Some accountant becomes a designer without the education- she muttered. She eats outmeal or cottage cheese with a pear, at the common room she doesn’t talk and even doesn’t sit beside me. It seems me a bit strange. Someone is closed and not confident.
The other girls are sisters. They work at the big companies as I got and at the moment they are looking for a flat. Even though it is clear that they have an purpose of marriage, they are more goal oriented than the first girl. And perhaps they will really arrange at this big town. At night I could hear their informative discussion about renting a flat. (I took note) They knew all demands, all questions to ask, all prices to orient on. In a word, they studied the subject coscientiously. And this morning they are dealing with it again. This is how people do it.
But as I could observe it is really hard to listen your heart here. Long noisy roads to and fro, huge amount of people and advertising. Someone has alredy decided that you should desire this or that stuff. If we throw the outer shall away most of people don’t have more than in province. Having little modern things here like wearing warm at winter. They sail with the stream and believe it is the great life just because of the location. It is hard to find your way here and easy to follow it if you know. People are lost in the turmoil of demands. The link of financial questions keep them under pressure. To live here you need a flat, to have a flat you need a job, to have a job you need bundle of things including education and experience, to have them you need the stubborness and ability to twist. People have to be more clever to survive here.
For example, stores. At the hometown we have the big store across the road and it’s never hard to buy something unexpectedly. Here I had to go to the next station to buy a pack of rise. And know what? I will need to go there again as I don’t have a habit to buy everything once, we usually do it everyday. You need to arrange all your movements to have time for a real life.
But it is not what I like to think about. When it touches me anyway the only intention I got is study. Being at the bookstores, tourist’s places I only got the peaceful idea of world’s lat and fascination. I want to develop even more when I see the picture of people in a rush.
I must or I’ll write down too much.
That was strange trip at all. Instead of foretaste of being at the capital again I was irritated with perspective to spend about twenty two hours en route in company of workers, hearing their serials and being squeezed at the seat. The way there I was sitting with the young boy in track shorts. He was so passive (as the second one was too) that without my stubbornness we would sleep touching each other constantly. The sleep was torn on pieces with the stops and attempts not to touch the guy.
When sleepy me went out of the bus there was violent freeze. The people at the subway looked at everything with harsh view. Grey colours and texture of not fresh fabrics. My unconscious feet knew the road perfectly.
During the day when I was en route I thought about my attitude to Moscow. At the morning it was rather irritation, malice and cleanliness. Roads, corridors, excavators can tire a lot.
I wasn’t to be friendliest at the McDonald’s where I spend two hours reading the book. And I wasn’t to look perfectly good. It didn’t matter for me. There was not such worry as before. I could speak with the guardian at the institute in frivolous way, ask questions insistently and wait until unfamiliar man asked about my purpose and took me some instructions.
Two hours of break I spend at the sunny Park. People were hurried for work and passed through the empty places with pathetic music and appearances. I sat at the cleaned square and could observe how museum workers greeted the street cleaner. White shiny snow and silence among old non-commercial buildings. I lost there and found a way through the technical park.
Now it’s raining. Drops are knocking at the metal roof and water is leaking out of tubes at the every cornes. Electric light makes stay at home very warm. Mom is cleaning up and I’m reading and cleaning something too. Plan to go to the village to paint the roof has evidently failed and I decided to devote this day to reading and writing. Last days was filled with impressions I haven’t written about yet.
The first meet was at friday and was expected to be. I took my pictures to return them into the fund of the college. The strange feel I say to carry pictures the way I went the whole five years. Such a deception of senses. Eyes said I was going to study, mind asserted I was far away of being study, hands felt that they really had forgotten how did it hard to carry pictures throught the bridge.
Inside there was no change (evidently it’s insufficient time). The same watchman and the same walls. My diploma picture is hanging in front of the staircase and almost the first thing what is shown. I was amazed as it was liked me with all incomleteness. I came to the composition workshop, left the bag, hairdressed, took a breath and went to look for Br. Immediately the first familiar face I met was DR. She was not concealing intrested in my condition. Her ear had been even turned to me to catch the new information. I was in hurry to say key words. Then she led me to Br. He was smiling and I think really glad to see me. But to his approach I wasn’t ready. He made sat in his study and asked me about exams. Certain information. I should say to addition that my own mood was perfectly optimistic and I couldn’t be so sad as he was. Really his face became gloomy and wrinkled. It was a surprise for me. I tryed to be self-organised and make an impression (but my inner condition was and still is such) of confident notion about future. Then some old women came to take his attention and we had fine good-bye.
The second meet was yesterday. I had been working at mom’s shop and read the book when immediately I saw a familiar face in front of me. She was Darya from the fourth course. Her voice was softy and friendly as the jacket was knitted and warm. Until printers made her photos we discussed our lives and plans. She searchs a job in children centers and wants to make cartoons. And she still lives in this town as her boyfriend decided to be here. She went away and I left with my rigid impression that I should left work to practice and improve my basic skills and understanding.