Another chilly weekend in which I have vowed not to set foot out of the apartment unless it's on fire. And better, a long weekend, much needed. I've been fiddling with book design stuff today, and plan to work on a couple collages and maybe a poem later. I still feel like it's only in winter I have this OCD compulsion to keep on top of household tasks, so I'm always straightening and organizing like a mad woman. I think I've finally, with the help of container store, cleared the morass on my dining room table. Next on the agena: the linen closet and about a half dozen almost empty shampoo bottles.. The fact that there's not one dirty dish to be found shows the extent of my illness. Come spring and I'm busy with other things, the plates get scary piled in the sink, but in dark January, I'm a domestic goddess.
I'm still trying to get girl show in some respectable state before I turn anything over to Arielle. I've been switching out poems and cutting and rewriting the crap. She told me before break she wants to push me to make my work even more disturbing, which given my subject matter, I'm all on board with. I know there's still a handful of poems I need to write, for subject matter and length reasons (it's about forty pages after cutting, with another 3 or four pieces waffling I hope to tackle this week.)