Hello, Jana.
I've been reading your blog for a while, and I'm in the process of reading "Music..." I didn't find the mail that usually sent such letters, so I'm writing here if you're sorry.
My situation is: Some time ago, I decided to coordinate the change of activity, I learned in Peter on a baccalaureate of physics, and I even started doing a master in Munich, but then I threw up and started drawing pictures for the runoffs, and it's not going well, but I have a dream, I want to illustrate the book. Given that I've been painting for just a year from my life, this goal of dreams looks great for me.
But the problem is mine, reading the chapter on Antimus, I realized that my husband's newly acquired was just my Antimus, and it's strange that I often want to draw it or photograph it, it's beautiful, but it's no place to do it. And I started to turn the history of our relationship with him on this key, and my fears were confirmed.

When we started dating back to Russia, I took a picture of myself, and infinitely did something for myself, and just so for the soul, I painted cards to my friends, and I was just skimming myself out of the house, but after a little while, I noticed that it was out of me, that I don't want to do anything, and that's what it's got to do. Then it was. to Germany and I've spent almost a year getting to the magistracy in the same direction as my previous diploma. And now I'm learning, and literally through the semester, I realize I don't want to go on, not mine, I won't go on. And my student visa is over, too, but I really didn't want to leave Munich or break up with my future husband, and we didn't make it difficult to get married to reunite the family. And now I've been living apart from him for a while, waiting for a visa in Russia, and frankly, I've been stirring up a creativity force and just ideas, and I've been thinking beautiful in my head that I want to write, there are ideas about how to move on the case that I've been trying to learn how to paint. But in the meantime, I miss him, very attached morally and practically to his life, we have a lot of opinions, attitudes and things. But I can imagine that I'll be back in a month and I'll be bored to see the militants, instead of a wild budding arthouse, I'll be bored to go to museums and even Christmas fairs, because he's not interested in seeing all the things for a long time and even buying them. Photographs will be exceptionally in the face of sight, nothing so edible. My world, with his ideas, will collapse and rout. The pictures will be technically better, but I'll only write if I'm upset about something, not inspiration.