“While staying in Kiev, I want to complete a creative project. The final product will be a hand-sewn chapbook exploring the concept of borders, not as the thing defined by its neighbors, but as the thing defining itself and what identity is formed by existing as a borderline. The creative media will also be borderline. It will primarily consist of between-genre creative writing—work defined by the larger genres it borders with terms like prose poetry, flash fiction, lyrical essays—demonstrating that it is not just stuff not quite fitting the larger categories of poetry, fiction, or creative non-fiction, but rather its own thing. It will also feature collage, itself a border category that is rejected by many art critics as crafty found work and by crafting scrapbookers as sloppy nonsense.”
Five weeks ago, bitch. I have short hair. This look needs to be maintained, and honestly I should have had it cut last week, but I got distracted by my brain. AND if I don’t get a haircut this week, I won’t be able to get my hair done for another two weeks because my hairdresser is going out of town, and I can’t go see someone else because I’m loyal.