Some time ago I was inspired by a friend, who shared a one-year-project of taking photographs of herself every day. I especially liked what she said about it, something to do with how it became less important that it was ‘nice’ or ‘perfect’, as long as it had something to do with her. (Thanks for sharing them, S.!)
This made me think about those poem-a-day projects I’ve done in the past. During my time in Austria and while living in Ukraine, I tried to write one poem a day, which was a very nice experience. Not because the poetry was so great – although there are a couple I am kind of a little proud of – but because it makes it possible to remember something of each and every day I was there. Each poem is a memory, a personal memory.
 

Perhaps I would have forgotten about the man cooking fifty chicken paws in one pot one evening, in the very small kitchen we had to share with about ten people. Or I wouldn’t remember seeing the shadows of the leaves of a tree during one sunset and thinking about how that image would be a necessary part of a biopic if one would ever be made about my life. Or perhaps I would have had no idea where I had found that one kopeck which predated even the birth of my parents. 
So, I decided to once more start a project. Not of photographs, because I don’t like photographing. Let’s stick to words. No poetry, as the only poetry I’m able to write nowadays concerns itself with the same same, occupied as I am with my PhD. Just words.
One word a day.
Let’s see what it’ll bring me.