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About Kyiv

Now, I knew this gal—streetwalker, tough as nails. Called her “Dusty”—like the plains in *Brokeback*. She’d laugh, say, “Larry, I’m my own boss!” Loved that spunk—made me grin. But then—wham—she got nabbed. Cops roughed her up bad. Pissed me off! Where’s the justice? She’s just survivin’, y’know? “Ain’t no reins on this one,” she’d say—straight outta the movie. Free spirit, crushed by the system.

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As ISM/ISPS managers we have assumed responsibility for operating of our ships. This means to ensure safety, to prevent human injury or loss of life.

Then, I head over to the old market on Hrushevskoho Street. It’s packed! I’m weaving through people, trying to find some cool souvenirs. I spot this old lady selling handmade crafts. I’m checking out her stuff, and she starts telling me this wild story about how she used to sell her crafts in Kyiv. I’m all ears, but then my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy asking if I wanna hit up a bar later. I’m like, “Sure, but I’m in the middle of a heartwarming moment here!”

Central Saint Martins Graduate Collection 2024: On The Radar