Firstly I perceived the sense of at-oneness with cinematograph quite early ï in the very childhood. It laid in long, complicated movies with various faces and cordial soundtracks, which entered my life so that it is still played there; movies on the old embossed screen of the huge box with jams and background noises, but none the less awesome. Movies in the old Granny's house, movies from the wood table covered with wattled clot. Movies with the scent of coming summer or the first may storm, when you actually should turn the electricity off, but you are sitting and watching instead; even if you are burnt with lightning you will continue sitting and watching. Different movies, but often cramp and graspless such as "Once upon a time in America", from those which core is unclear in childhood, but which you will never forget somehow. They have always been making me to reconsider my entire life, invert everything, and dissolve into the weird dreams of me, from where sometimes it is too hard to get out. And I reconsidered: I was building elusory America of the 30th, trying to find vibrant personalities, just as in movies, in order to domiciliate them there, hoping they would someday invite me. I did not want to part with cinema not even for a minute, so I used to write my own screenplays: oh, I could have explicate an epic!.. There were childish musings, naïve and guileless but subtle and touching. The same faces, the same characters (I could distinguish their voices and replicas), they have become everything I had had, they replaced my coevals, who could not share my passion. But I had nothing more to talk about, nothing more to live for. I just felt I had to write, write, write and write, giving up everything else, even when everyone were laughing at me, even when everyone were telling me to change the way and no one believed in me. Maybe then, when I had not known that yet, my desire to write laid in making them to believe. I wanted to see heroes living after credit titles; I made them build the future, outlive new adventures, because I just could not exist without them, I just could not let them disappear. In endless sentences full of mistakes, in dusty pages between sheets my own cinematograph laid... cinematograph of my helpless childhood. Old stories were changed by new ones, which I afterwards read and watched together: but I still conserve that shabby notebook. Still the same desires live inside me, precisely like ten years ago: never, never part with those who shared my childhood.
Years were passing by, I had to overcome much: I became hooked on ancient history and aspired to be archeologist, but the world of cinematograph did not let me go and so did I ï we had still been together, although the dream about it seemed to be so unreal. All those heroes, old and new, whom I met later, were surrounding me, never letting me forget them, our lives were always intersecting. For some reason I know them. For some reason they are by my side. They bother me, force me to stay awake, laugh and cry, but I'm still with them, I still thank them. And in ten-fifteen years I sincerely believe that I will have an ability to build my own colossus. I hope it will grant people with moments of unity of the past and the future, move them into another space where they will feel cozy and intimate, where all of us, staying by different sides of the screen, will see the same beauty, survive the same happiness and get scared that our hearts are to burst up.
â‹Movies, which I felt from the long distance, which I could judge just by voices and replicas, which soundtracks inspired me, did not let me sleep. Nightly I used to watch the life of the two-storied brick house across the street. It was built in the honor of World War II Victory. It stood in the shade of bushy trees and was so fragile and ancient, that it seemed the house was about to be destroyed. They were towering skyscrapers around, but that house had somehow still been there. It always seemed to me, that there, in that old house with its fading pale lights, in that dreamy, detached from the whole city space, that's all they talk about, the cinema; how damn great it is. They talk about what they see and what they will never live through, witnesses of what they will never be; about what they have seen with their hearts sitting in narrow cold rooms. They thought of that too much, too much was discussed with themselves, like if it was going to change something in their life ï- like if the life was going to become different. But they really felt it did, they felt it transfiguring due to those little adventures. I was the only one who watched it with childish eyes of the creator and understood that their lives, of course, would not change and get under way. But their soul will become open, it will find its own space, where it will thrash about, agonize and cry with happiness: that space is cinema. Once you are there, you never find the way out; maybe because you heart will be burnt with passion, maybe because there is no way out at all, but probably you will just dissolve into the cinematograph and forget about any other space, if it had really existed in your life before. And I'm very happy to have a chance to show everyone my own space, space I live in.
Firstly I perceived the sense of at-oneness with cinematograph quite early - in the very childhood.
This may sound better: "During my life, I have always felt a connection to the world of cinematography."
It laid in long, complicated movies with various faces and cordial soundtracks, which entered my life so that it is still played there; movies on the old embossed screen of the huge box with jams and background noises, but none the less awesome.
This sentence is too long and a bit confusing, can you clear this up, and create 2 sentences out of this?
I watched movies at myin the old Granny's house, movies from the wood table covered with wattled cloth .
This is not a complete sentence. I fixed it for you.
They have always been making me to reconsidercaused me to constantly reevaluate my entire life.I tend to invert everything, and dissolve into the weird dreams of myself , from where sometimes it is too hard to get out.awaken.
But I had nothing more to talk about, nothing more to live for. I just felt I had to write, write, write and write, giving up everything else, even when everyone were laughing at me, even when everyone were telling me to change the way and no one believed in me.
This part is essential to your paper- clear this up. This is key- you are introducing your best talent which is writing and analyzing films.
