Can a personal website be a hybrid of a diary and a living room?

MOOD:

nostalgic

I’ve been giving a lot of (constant) thought to what I envision my digital space to be like, and not in the “Are portfolios ever truly finished?” line of inquiry but that of wanting to nest. If my projects are something I created, I gave birth to them. I’m setting up our house nicely for them to live in and grow up in–because creative work is never finished.

Side note: Neither is writing, but I promised not to come back and edit this beyond March 9th, 2019. Staying true to what a 9,667-day-old Kimmy believed is vital. Grad school graduation is upon me, and every conclusion during this utopian period of my life is something I will inevitably look back on fondly.

That, and I'm obsessed with the number 9.

But not so obsessed that I wouldn’t come back and correct my grammar.

And so this one experiment I did during my MFA came back into the picture.

During my first summer in grad school, my class’ initial assignment was creating a hybrid of two opposite design approaches and/or disciplines. For example, how would it look like if brand guidelines were to become 3D. This idea of redefining what each graphic design medium could be or already is and pushing it beyond its limits, well, it stuck with me.

I’m taking the format of a diary–personal, precious, raw–and the function of a living room–comfortable, welcoming, and built to be seen by guests as opposed to one’s actual bedroom.

You, watching me show you my thesis draft.

You see my best accomplishments on the walls: my projects being born, my projects winning their first scout medals (“I-kept-my-creator-awake-until-4am-the-most” medal for one).

But you're also invited to do more than casually visit. I will share rough sketches and brain mapping through diagrams and structures as I try to navigate ideas. Lists will be like soft couches or lines in a notebook, always present and constant in my diary-living room-website hybrid. And my creation children will be standing there all the while, looking over my shoulder as I welcome you into the left side of my brain.

My are.na might just be the right side, TBD.

Please don’t break any of my boyband-shaped ornaments near the fireplace. We'll be bringing out more cookies for you very soon.

xo, Kimmy