Monday of a new week

The day went as it went. I didn’t go to the hospital for the analyses and slept enough for me. After the delicious breakfast all the morning before the lessons I prepared for those lessons. I found out my mind map of the lectures quite useful. And basically I’m ok with studying process, it’s fun, it’s like a game. I used the lazy quick writing of all I know on the paper.  Helpful tool.

I was late and came into the class while the teacher was reading the list. At the beginning it was ok, we pronounced the exercises, then there was a control on the topic I prepared in the morning, so basically it was ok.  But then we started that terribly long and boring process of checking other people’s tests. That was so tiresome. At the lunch break, I ate fast at the small canteen full of the local student. I never felt so different from them. I could even perceive their small town mentality.While sitting there I came to the idea that we all suppose something for future, but future is nothing without now.  Nothing will change in the future if it doesn’t change now. Why people look at me that way when I cross the corridor?

Why people look at me that way when I cross the corridor? A talk with the law student made me feel so strange. So surprise! He offered to come to the cinema club and moreover he knows the local theatre director. Something strange happens. I easily speak to people and they believe that I know things I speak about. That law student was so surprised by the fact I watched Citizen Kane.

Language history lecture went boring for most of those zombie-students who write every single word. As for me, there wasn’t much information but I was for some reason inspired. Maybe it’s my thoughts on Arzamas as the great new educational format which makes me think of associations. And it pushes my mind. Associations are the great tool for learning. Actually, we do all thinking by associations unconsciously. So I’m going to attach all the information to the things I already know. I’m going to think in a way: what does it remind me of? What do I have already know about this? etc. That’s obvious but so efficient.

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I am sitting in a great shock and misunderstanding. This was the second day of study and the second portion of rubbish. Even yesterday I found out myself being sick of the road, people, the building full of the students and teachers. That’s just a quintessence of the local culture: girls have a dialect, wear mass market fashionable clothes and have a negative view on studying. The lecturers shocked me by reading the lecture from the list to be rewritten in the student notebooks. WHAT?! The teacher of the basic English shocked me by her robotic approach. Nothing matters but the lesson plan and the lecture in the textbook. I felt like a prisoner on her lesson today.

The teacher of the basic English shocked me by her robotic approach. Nothing matters but the lesson plan and the lecture in the textbook. I felt like a prisoner on her lesson today. I couldn’t believe she asks us to read, reread and translate the utterly easy text. We spend on it the whole double lesson.

The other thing is note-taking. Since I started to make mind maps instead of linear notes I had noticed that they repeat everything million times, make it slow and even slower to let the other student write every single word into the A5 notebook. The lecture seems complicated but it’s really simple. It becomes a pile of stones in their mind instead of the harmonic picture.

And yes, the freshmen are kinda not prepared for the University level. And the university itself lowered their level too. So, the education is just a fiction here. Lectures sound complicated, though it’s easy, students are ready to obey and sit silently while the diploma is promised. The teachers are the same kind of people as the students are. Both don’t really understand the purpose of such fuss as education.

As someone said, there must be three (or more) top Universities in the country and the other must be just really good ones. Equally good ones. But now I can see the wide gap between top and the other ones. Those are two different worlds what don’t touch each other at all. That’s odd.

I think to call to the institute and ask about the documents. Fanny isn’t it? That’s the comedy of life. And it laughs out loud.

P.S. It’s the worst sense – the sense of yourself being the cleverest student in the room.

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.

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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.

Autumn-like day at home

_MG_6349It’s not only raining today but it’s darkening with every hour. I can see it through the window.  The whole day I am sitting with the history book, laptop, and cup of tea. Honestly, my mind is rather full of new ideas and some anxiety than the laser focus on the twenty century’s events. That’s why I still struggle with the lack of concentration and understanding. It seems even hopeless now. I feel weak when I want to say “It’s too much for me! I’m sick of history”.

My page at the notebook with the plans for August is almost full. At the finish line, all thoughts are about post exams time. I want some emotional relief after that. Maybe it seems strange to hear, but the main reason for the emotional burnout is my unexpected desire and some ideas for the paintings and more. The last notes at the notebook all are the IDEA ones. The other desire is simple and trivial one – earn money.

One of my coursemates is having a vacation at the seaside abroad. Surely, I could be envy about it but as it was said to my mom “I could make up the better way to spend that money”. I mean education and the development. No vacation while I don’t have a proper professional position and some real constant profits. It isn’t time for enjoying the benefits, it’s time for raising them.

But this evening we actually are going to watch something and go to bed early as we both are tired of such weather and routine.

This is the smell of spring everywhere. Those are the dried roads and mild air.

It was hard but possible to push myself out of the bed today. There were calm, yellow sky and no cars on the streets. Someway I got myself going to the institute and even be in time for the first and most important lesson, history. Instead of immersion into the 17 century’s passions, we were waiting for the teacher who set the projector – the first time for a year. Margo shown us the pretty fun app were poetry’s parts were to be transformed into emojis. We tried to remember the classical poem and couldn’t retrieve particular words. Then the lesson went a bit worse than usual though I comprehended it was a chance to remember the pre-historic material.

I felt tired as physically as emotionally. There is always one more day out I need. And a cup of cheap coffee doesn’t help crucially to refresh. However, I had some willpower to paint a canvas before the very dinner. At the canteen it was strange to begin with an odd talk with the animators then come to talk with Mary about cakes and then listen her chatting with cinema scholar who is (as I can assume now) is a boozer. When she speaks I discover what kind of drunkard lifestyle a lot of residents has. It saddens me a bit but makes picture clear – it’s not my company.

The rest of the day I forced myself to stay working in spite of harsh vulgar talks around. I had been to go since half to three but finished that all to the formal end.

Monday

This is so wonderful but nervous to run through the wet street to the lesson and try to keep up with the small talk about nothing. I hurried but the moment I turned to the audience it was clear – nobody can enter the class. There was small but pleasant talk with cinema scholars and other girls – what a great choice for talking! Then it was a mistake to sit with the same girls I went there. But OK, I let other people enjoy talking to the teacher and discussions. Not all have Saturday’s lessons.

The content was great as usual, with lots of contradictions and topics for reflection or deeper research. Sometimes it seemed hard to catch the red thread but I tried to make such exercises. And there is nowhere to go without the mind lapse when I feel a vacuum in my head which gradually transforms into the images. The magic of thinking. As fast as the lecture had ended and the teacher was ready to discuss something hugely interesting I had to go downstairs.

There was the class of non-Russian speaking people who was to study the language. The small chaotic room with the little blackboard and mess of papers in the cupboard. The female teacher cried loudly as it was an audience for fifty students. There were some evident foreigners as Chinese and Uzbek, and some unrecognizable persons looked like Bulgarian. Two Americans. There were too active and noisy, the study wasn’t effective (to my opinion – little constructive explanations). I tried to focus on the translating pre-intermediate level sentences. I realized that I usually work at the good environment for concentration and don’t have a habit of working in bothering surroundings. But I did my best allegedly it was a serious task. (I often make silly mistakes)

Sitting in the canteen with the girls and eating my noodles with chicken I had already felt exhausted. The effect of efficiency. But it was the painting which was on the agenda else. The workshop had a diffused spirit when I came. The regular, habitual movements with the hands and brushes. Some moments it seemed endurable, some – terribly boring. As it eats up my life. After two highly focused hours, I decided to go away and did so. There is no need to suffer and loaf around the workshop.

The neighbor can come today but I don’t worry at all.

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.

The first day of the second term

The whole night I could hardly sleep well – the wind was blowing out of the window even through the blanket. I was waking up despite all the tiresome in my body (sleepless night at the bus and the busy day of purchases) and idea I needed to get up with the alarm clock. Now I’ve sealed the frame and hope for the warmer night today. Nonetheless, I had overslept the first lesson quite consciously and had no pangs of conscience about it though it was Russian history.

The strange thing is to take the heavy bag with paper and pencils, go to the roads and traffic lights to study. At the crossroad, it immediately struck me that Moscow lives its own life either I got it or not. There is some special air which I can seldom feel and recognize. The mixed sense of routine, disorientation, business and diversity. The life which is going on without particular persons but the big system. Typicality and complexity in the same basket. It is sunny and warm and people are scurrying as any other time, any other day.

You know how strange it is to come back and find out that nothing has changed. At the entry to the department, people forth are observed and upcoming talks are foreseen. Small talks and my barely concealed reluctance to mix with them. Fake smile. But I frankly tried. No set had been done at the moment I came in. The teacher gathered us at the workshop and spoke to us about the program. As usual, he was very optimistic and confessed that every year the course becomes worse and worse, that we have bad drawing as we all had bad preparation at art schools and colleges. In a word, he hasn’t changed for the last month – the same grumbling dwarf. The only fruitful point I got out of his speech was the number and content of the painting sets at this term. Certainly, I hadn’t been amazed at all.

At the hall I saw the girls speaking with each other, one of them was Nastya and for some reason, I decided I need to come and say hi. The other girls were so much the same that I could only joke about that. They were complaining about something. The talk with Nastya and her friend Tanya was kind of formal, though it looked friendly enough. Some moment I saw clearly that Nastya is sort of dump. We discussed the difficulty to go by bus home and she insisted that as far as she had no problems with that it’s easy. Finally, I burst out and said something about mom’s unluckiness at the road and some of my own occasions. She appeared to me a bit self-confident in terms of narrow-mindedness (it’s not the only example). To say nothing about the manner to pull the blanket over herself and let people talk about her. But their company is quite safe for me and this is the major reason I’m with them. No provocative questions or soul’s excavating. It’s comfortable and safe, and regressive.

The lunch went alike all the Thursday lunches. The girls couldn’t change the tune and discussed unfortunate love affair. Quickly I left them and went upstairs to read the detective. About an hour I read it. At the workshops nothing had been changed, the girls were chatting, the models were going to and fro. I and girls decided to go out. So went back to the hostel with some naive sense of freedom (while The Economist at the table).

Though I have found some options, some tiny paths out of the current situation, the anxiety is still here. Compare to the easiness of risky way, the way of compromises is tough in its psychological angle. There is twice more work and worries of student life and with all my rationality it’s not so easy to persuade the body in the happy ending. As far as the reluctance to be in the same position freeze and upset me greatly I should change my lenses and look at the light instead of darkness.

The whole position is odd, make one thing to get another result which is kind of stupid idea. Nobody dances to be able to read. Crooked ways and paths require a good driver with excellent GPS. I know I shouldn’t worry that is waste of time and nerves.

The typical but very talkish Thusday

This day was nice and full of talks and simultaneous ideas struck into my head.

The morning was calm and usual. I filled in the last spread at the blue notebook. The content was the schedule of work to do for getting everything done – it is very sobering. Then I read aloud my history report, got the idea it’s an evident failure of thought and go out to the institute.

On the way I met a girl who once said “How can you be bored studying at vgik?”. We discussed Russian history, the fiction cartoon on historical protagonists, dentists, sleep mode and just the history reports. So we went to the class where I stand up the first to talk. I felt that I my speech was uneven and voice was hoarse. To my mind it was terrible. The message I could convey was incoherent, pictures were scarce and not as good as could. There was some applause when I sat down. Of course I immediately took the notebook and wrote some notes on better farther appearances. Surely I need and want more presentation practice.This is like a theatre of ideas.

I talked with one people en route to the canteen, then with other on the table, farther I met a girl at the elevator and conversed with her the rest of the lunch break. That was Sonya who I met at the first and second swimming’s training. Like me she hardly can swim therefore we were at the same track trying not to drown. We basically discussed the situation (politics or strategy) of institute’s masters and great luck of major study. She described in all details the process of homework discussion with their teacher. That’s ridiculous and sad. It’s sad because of a lot of time killing instead of analyses,  theory, troubleshooting and real working. She graduated from the famous Moscow school without any problem in science but she decided to attend to the art school to satisfy some inner desire. And now as she said her behaviour is kind of rebellion from the typical. Sonya doesn’t take part in the idle long chatting at the workshop and just do her work on the projects. We flattered to each other about the level of the speech, she said I liked to connect with her because of the speech not the age (18) evidently. It was totally fine to talk with her.

Controversially to our intelligent clever talk was the noise of girls at the anatomy. That was so embarrassing to find out that the normally looking girl with good speaking on cinema actually has some age problems (sexual character). After the lesson I needed some rest from all those people and silly talks. I took the snickers, sat at the new second on the sofa and for five minutes just ate the chocolate.

The next lesson at the cinema class was usual, quite usual. The teacher incoherently remembered his life experience and collaboration with artsy people. The film on “Gladiator” production had some interesting details but was basically entertaining and this is why noisy and full of water. Margo slept on the film so I couldn’t discuss anything with her.

The last lesson I struggled to read the article about UN. The pleasure of new information versus tiresome and noise of lecture. The way back to the hostel I talked to Vlad about hot 2012 year when the election happened. Now I am sitting here, need to revise the english lesson and go to sleep.