art
The best relationship art depicts the highs and lows of the authentic couple.
Cutting Cords, Tying Knots
Although I've always loved to get down on any sort of craft session, I recently took up the art of macramé (hippie power) as a way to deal with my trichotillomania. For those who don’t know, "trich" is a body focused repetitive behavior (BFRB) which means that I pull out my hair when I'm stressed or anxious. It’s actually very common and is akin to skin picking and nail biting.
By Kali Hodges5 years ago in Humans
Spinning a Yarn
For over a year we’ve been trapped in a touchless world. And for those of us who are single and live alone, even physical proximity to other humans vanished in this pandemic. Even in communion through video calls we were reduced to technological approximations of ourselves, images and audio. Like paper dolls back lit with blue light, we dwell in posts and pictures, online content, our two dimensional facsimiles of real life.
By Sarah Frase5 years ago in Humans
Cuttin and Walken
It is easy to be seduced by art at a young age. I mean what's not to like? Your first introduction is w a box of waxy colors that release this exotic scent when you break their seal and when they scratch on paper they leave a trail of color like Gumby dragging behind.
By cinimon imondi5 years ago in Humans
My Favorite Simple Machine
I have loved scissors ever since I could remember: the way they fit my hand as if they were holding me back, the way they open like wings and close like a beak, the satisfying crunch you feel as the blades slice through paper, and whispered slish! they make as they zip, open-mouthed, up the edge of a roll of wrapping paper.
By David Charles Bernardy5 years ago in Humans
Tying the Knot
I am not a particularly crafty person. While I love the idea of plucking an image or idea from the sky and turning it into something tangible, when I actually start creating, things get messy. My watercolour rendition of a flower was a soggy mess. My stained glass workshop produced a sailboat posing as an amorphous blob – a gift for my partner – is still buried in his sock drawer. My cake decorating workshop (which I actually thought was some of my finer work) looked like something out a horror film, according to my mom.
By Adrienne H5 years ago in Humans
Mask per Masx
When I was laid off back in April, I felt helpless, confused and worthless. So much of my identity was drawn up in having a job; that means of supporting at least myself. With fear and anxiety penting up, I chose to do what most seamstresses did when the pandemic began- make masks.
By Spider Lilies5 years ago in Humans
Modge Podge Mama
As a young girl, I was fascinated by stories of strong females throughout history. In the days before the internet, I would scour through large colorfully illustrated encyclopedias on my living room floor and fawn over stories of Cleopatra or Harriet Tubman. Even when I was a child, it was clear I had to look harder to find stories detailing women’s achievements. Still, it was always worth the search. I enjoyed thinking of them as guides along my path. I wanted to grow up to be the kind of woman they wrote about in those big books.
By Sonia Ashe5 years ago in Humans
Life is Collage.
I have always been an extremely artistic person, since the time I had enough motor skills to hold a crayon. I was drawing pictures beyond my age when I was very young. Soon after, art was all I wanted to do. I trudged through the days in high school, glad I was able to take advantage of all of the art electives. I opted to study fine arts in college and even with all the creative electives I could manage, including a course titled The Psychology of Creativity, I graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts.
By tristinrose5 years ago in Humans
The New Cut
This is one story in two parts of two passions and two scissors. Part 1: Life Scissors From the outside my life thus far looks quite conventional. But look closer at the cloth of my existence and it’s not a simple pattern with straight folds. This cloth has been cut multiple times by the mercy of sharp and sometimes painful scissors, forming a new shape against the grain. With each new shape I am let to experience a new way of living with new joys, new challenges, new dopamine hits.
By Jade Lumbewe5 years ago in Humans
Fishing To Remember
In my head our destination is rugged and secluded. I imagined a shack, crouching between leaves, attempting to hide from travelers. I imagined it was a small, sad house, built forever ago and abandoned before that. It would have drooping shutters that looked like eyelids slipping into a daze, and sagging gutters full of wet leaves and sedentary slugs. Trees would have started to take the house back into their fold, branches poking through shattered windows and roots creeping up through wooden boards. Just beyond the thicket of woods would be a thin gravel road that would wind down to murky wide waters where a wooden dock would rest just barely above the waterline. Muscles and algae would grow thick underneath planks of wood and translucent weeds would tickle the bellies of minnows attempting to stay hidden from humans and fish alike.
By Elizabeth Donovan 5 years ago in Humans
I Make Wild Open Spaces
I create space. I can’t help it. That’s how things in my life keep moving along. For so long, I felt hemmed in. Claustrophobic. I couldn’t breathe, and I thought that was a necessary feeling. The right feeling. It was the modus operandi of the people around me, the town I grew up in. You can’t breathe, you feel constricted? Good, honey. That means you are doing your part in the system. You are measuring up. You are working hard. This is how we live, child, in order to get through life.
By Jana Marie Rose5 years ago in Humans
