Fast turn

So, finally I got myself in front of the computer screen. This day actually was almost free, but I felt quiet busy and stressed just because of the habit.

Let’s start with the fact that now I’m at home. My plan was to stay at Moscow a few days more but mom insisted on passing the exam at the local university and I came.

That day was so emotional. I got up early and slowly went to the institute for the last exam – interview. The weather was so grey that I cheered myself up by stating that the grey weather was much better for exam situation as it was really calm. And it made me really happy. The street and the institute itself were so empty that one moment I thought that it was a mistake. But no, there were people with notebooks at the corridor. I found out what was going on and passed to the first group of applicants. However, it took time.

The studio which was opened for us to revise notes was full of easels and stools. The girls read their summaries with great earnest. The whole situation reminded me the literature exam at the college and I didn’t like it. Instead of time among the gigling girls I stayed at the corridor where air seemed to me more fresh. My mind was too focused and relaxed the same time for talking about nothing. But I did it with Nastya Ch.

The examination room was white and good lighted, actually that was no more than the studio with the tables instead of easels. The questions were mixed in common mess and I was confused by it. The last year they devided these by the departments, now it was the heap. I took one and it turned out to be one with animation question. I sat down with the blank for notes.

Nonetheless, while I was sitting many other applicants talked on different topic and I got that there was a chance to win by the common education. When the summary was done (incomplete and unclear) I knew that’s finish. I didn’t understand how that happened but I easily jumped above questions and talked much about things I knew (Van Gogh’s biography, colours’ symbolism) Of course they caught me on the ingnorance in the russian animation. I didn’t watch and actually have no desire to watch classic films. And my childhood was full of Dysney products rather than local. However, it seemed fine and we passed to Production Design. I told about Aronin and Mikhalkov’s films maybe too emotional for being called logical. That was clear adrenaline and pleasure to hear something about War&Peace BBC production. I said good bye and went out.

I laughed and exclaimed in pleasure, talked to other girls in a rush, got aquanted with one costume designer and was waiting for Nastya to come to the park and eat some ice-cream together. But when she got out she didn’t talk with anyone, took her bag and fastly directed to the stairs. She was in tears and hardly spoke about the unlucky question, cold approach of teachers and her ignorance in thrillers and architecture. I tryed to relief her with jokes and my high spirit, with my vague situation and unfair mark for the second tour. (This is the other painful story)

At the park we discussed the new films and our impressions by acting. Then I led her to the centere where we had a brunch. She talked too much but after some time I could see the light in her nature. Something strange and distorted, some desire to be right as well as habit to be laughed at, to be awkward and odd. I left her at the New Arbat Avenue and went to the hostel.

The rest of the day I spend at the Vorobyevy’s hills. There were so much water and trees and calm people around. That was some concert at the stadium near and sounds were omnipresent. Frankly, I didn’t think or reflect much, my mind jumped throught the ideas I could say at the interview or it was empty at all. Quiteness was so suitable for me then but the same time so boring. To the moment I came to the MSU main building I had already been bored. Of course, at the viewpoint I tryed to feel some like or dislike to the town but couldn’t percieve enough emotions in general.

The MSU building, park and especially the sport pitches impressed me more. People had workouts at the tennis courts and running tracks. The back yard was full of cars which would ride out to the sunset. I wanted to play tennis then rather than just wonder around the park.

I hardly managed to go to the hostel and drink some tea. And then it had been started. Mom called and we was to decide either go home then or avoid the exam. She hesitated and called me so often that I was irritated by her indecision. That was night when I tryed to reserve the bus ticket, went to the bookstore for the textbook and to the grocery for snatch. Then fastly and smart I packed the suitcase talking and gigling the same time with girls. They were so friendly and opened.

The next morning I woke up the first at the room, took my buggage and called taxi. Then, you know, there were magnificent sunny roads of Sunday Moscow and taxi rider from the near to my hometown. Again it was badly organised but I could read the textbook with the earplugs.

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The last day of painting

I could complain about almost everything at the institute. To begin with the discipline of the models and finish the attitude to human beings of the teachers. It was psychologically hard to overcome. The dullness of models in combination with the basic limitation of the applicants plus neglectful approach of the painting teacher (I amaze how he managed to become a manager). The way there I had already suffered from the talk with Nastya. She unsuitably asked me questions like “What does it all mean if I reckon photography the better way to convey images?” It was like talking with the utter old-fashioned person who doesn’t have Instagram account and has no idea about modern shifts in visual media. Almost all talks were dull.
Let me explain why. The so called creative people often have their own view on everything but they have no scintific tools for judging about this everything adequately, they use clever phrases to support their simple ideas. To my opinion, the first sign of a silly person is the utter self-confident in their position. Clever people doubt and opened to the new information and ideas. That people are fun but increadebly limited in their view. Moscow is like Cheboksary. The map of interests and vision is Moscow plus suburbs, like Cheboksary. There was no difference in speech, approach and understanding. Life which has place only here and now even with all pathetic words about human mortality. That all looked and sounded like a pose of domestic local people.
I shriveled everytime the boy quoted Soviet films which I could not recognise as you may imagine. But I remembered and was excited my the production design of “101 dolmatins” and Sherlock’s last series. And actually I had had the perfect morning after the vebinar. There was enough time for writing and making up my mind, there were a little people at the kitchen, enough coffee and sweets as well as cold shower and workout. I listened the political programm at BBC en route and felt like a completed person. That was clear magic of shining morning, green trees and British news. There was something in the air.