Epic

Studio updates.

I haven't slept since Saturday, and I really don't like this project (even though all the people around me said it looks really cool. My tutor, on the other hand, said it was a bit boring.) Also, the only thing I missed about the Internet-off weekend, was the fact I couldn't write down my thoughts of the moment, and they were killing me from the inside.

So, is this how the rest of the 4 years is going to be? Meditating for better idea and tutors in good mood; tea-breaks, loo-breaks, breaks to pick up a better song, breaks to remember something, breaks to forget something else; breaks to smile at a thought, breaks to shut your eyes and get new images in your head.

There is a break for every moment, always when you need one.

Also, I realised how quick this week will be; quick on thoughts and things to do/ places to be. And next week as well.

Last project for the year, here we come.

I get back up and I do it again

(the last post was number 666, mwa-ha-ha)

I still refuse to think in Bulgarian, especially as I fail to remember the word "landing" every single time I'm talking to a tutor. It's a bit of a sad story.

Other sad stories include my perpetual tummy aches that I'm trying to fight with more water. Also, it's too cold outside, but it will snow during the weekend (let it snow, let it snow). Not that I will have any time to go out and enjoy this first snow for the season but I will have it in mind (and, actually, in sight as well).

While I'm on the page of complaints, I don't even want to imagine the model that I need to start as soon as possible. I don't know why I keep on doing this to myself, but the stairs and the ramp never look good enough, and I need to keep and keep adding elements (which will probably kick my arse as I start making them tomorrow).

But otherwise I try to wake up with a smile, they say it will make your day better.

It's shit. But I don't mind just to give it a try every other morning.

Now, shut your mouth, try not to panic.

I hope I'm making sense

There is a reason why every next Monday is a new story that I anticipate and pray to hear/ live through. Today Carrie told me about her weird dream, then I told her about mine, and we decided to drink wine and make spells that week when her (now ex) boyfriend is supposed to be here. She thinks I'm a witch but it's actually all the Moon's fault, having troubles to fall asleep u.s.w.

My dream, however, was so refreshingly stupid that I actually enjoyed it. I am yet to figure out what was Alexander Skarsgård doing in it.

Now, I'm supposed to go to bed and try and have a quiet sleep without any mythical creatures chasing after me in the middle of the night; and in the morning to go back to the studio and give Carrie a hand for her project, as a good friend and class mate.

And, as a very wise man sang, "I've cleansed my ugliness and I've cleansed my paranoia".

A winter wind blows

The past 24 hours I watched "A Very Potter Musical", "A Very Potter Sequel", "Me and My Dick", and "Alex Reads Twilight", in that order. God bless all cool youtube celebrities for their wit that keeps me awake while I make a ridiculous amount of steps in scale 1:100.

Also, it's full moon and I can see it through my window, which is pretty funny considered full moons 1. make me a bit happier, and 2. kinda keep me awake.

Manic Street Preachers today, Mogwai are just for a flavour, everything else is just too slow. The day, the people, the mistakes in the messages I send. The white wine tastes awful, the apples are never enough, and tomorrow I plan to actually cook something for a change. Cause, as much as I want, I can't live off salads the whole winter. And today I made циганска баница, untranslatable and incredibly tasty when you've worked on a single ramp for the past 2 hours.

Also, I've promised Christy mulled wine night (or many?) and this has to be done, as soon as possible, for my own sake.

So, funny animations, anyone?

She shines like boundless light

"To feel forgiveness, you've got to forgive. It's lost on me, I believe in revenge." -msp

I get some strange ideas about life and about consequence of events, and also about music during every next all-nighter. There's been too many of them the past week. And now another one, because ramps are awful on a 3d model, but stairs are an analogue-model-nightmare.

Also, I decided I should take a couple of hours break this morning, and went to a screening of some films of the filmmaking society. Ian had chosen to put "Archie" in the list as well. It left me with that feeling, the same feeling I get every time I watch some of the old school plays and secretly know the whole scripts by heart. The scene with the son, and I imagined all of us scrambled in the room behind him, laughing silently. The kitchen scene, while Andy and me talk and point behind the door, and leave bloody handprints. Ian running to me every 4 minutes asking where Ross is. (by all means I avoid the word 'nostalgia', I don't think I'll be able to use it for a bit after this essay)

Back home, and I smile at everything, cheer for the working shower, even dance a bit. Not happy and not sentimental. Just smiling. This is how it should be. If I don't smile, these projects will absorb me and destroy all mouth muscles.

Also, I made my own pizza tonight.

You're not about to lie down for your cause

This one will be in English. Such things happen when you spend most of your time reading in two different non-native languages, speak them all the time, breathe them in and then leave them invade your dreams.

I know I once promised this blog will be left for keeping secrets away from people who don't speak Bulgarian. It's a rare occasion that I don't really have any secrets right now, at least not such that are to be circulating in the Internet anyway, in any existing language. I'm done with secrets and decoded messages, and stolen looks, and memories hidden in the maze of my imagination. I just decided it, in this very moment as my head slowly explodes with information and calculations, pages and pages of them. Three weeks for this project, three weeks to finish the essay I haven't officially started yet.

Fascination ends, here we go again.

Meanwhile, my good intentions to develop the film were shattered as I was politely told in two different shops that they can't help me. "Come back Saturday, there might be a container where we can put the film." I should one day shoot a film titled "The epic adventures of a small Zenit in big Glasgow". Also, the next person who uses the phrase "a Canon, from the big ones" (respectively "I don't know what lens did I use but it was big and with black body"), the door is riii-ght over there. Please, help yourself out.

I mean, seriously. To give that amount of money for equipment and courses, and not even to try and remember a 5-letter/number combination. It's the same if I said "I don't know what type of paint I used, but it's a nice deep red colour."

Also, no power tomorrow. And still no shower. I just need a little journey right now. To any place where I can actually take a shower without being in a rush. And where I can eat pancakes. That's right, I want pancakes. With granny's strawberry jam.

But a working shower's a priority. Now back to the ramp.

Here we go again

Има причини, поради които мога спокойно да напиша тук колко много обичам Иво. В интерес на истината, има прекалено много причини, простиращи се на прекалено много разговори и прекалено много човечета по картички.

Снощи си мислих за всичките пъти, когато ми е спасявал живота. Окей, не за всичките, за някои. Дори не за някои специфични, просто за някои. Това се случва, докато свалям всичките книги от леглото и претърсвам за пълните съчинения на Едгар По. Всички обичаме Едгар По. Преполовявам разказ и си спомням онзи, който мислихме заедно преди няколко лета. Така и не му оправих края.

После забравям за него. Говоря си с Юлия, онова слънчево дете на природата, загубено в северна Германия. Говорим си за Себастиан (все още има два месеца, за да изпълня онзи new year resolution), за Тим Бъртън и за усмивките. А междувременно с Рос си говоря за GGP, фойерверки и Сашка Васева. Дори не се опитвам да се шегувам.

Won't give you my heart
No one lives there anymore

Прекалено много причини.

A place to hide under

Предполагам, че прекалено много разкази в живота ми започват с някакъв странен час, когато изобщо не е трябвало да бъда там, където съм била. Повтарящ се мотив. Непрекъснато си спомням онзи цитат от онзи филм, че нищо хубаво не се случва след 2 вечерта, прибери се и си легни. Само че това не го вярвам, изобщо. Не вярвам, че дъждовната сутрин в 4 е било грешка. Не вярвам, че която и да е било четвъртък вечер, е било грешка.

Искам да разказвам притчи и тайни; искам да мога да се усмихвам на всяка шега и да плача всеки път, щом някой спомене някаква случка. А сега съм прекалено уморена дори да се опитвам да се чувствам виновно, или да ми е зле; или изобщо да чувствам каквото и да е било.