aesthetic (400)

she decides it's time to try and paint a portrait of herself. for years now she's dabbled in art, picking and choosing mediums at whim and discarding subjects without discerning first. there's not one thing that suits her, she knows this after months of working on one after the other. there's dozens of canvases lying around,… Continue reading aesthetic (400)

Advertisements

by nightlight (400)

she's watchful of the night sky, waiting for it to arrive before she slips out under a cloak of her own making. outside, the city hums, content with the work from the rest of the day, and people are few and far between. tonight she's tempted to take a glass to the roof, fill it… Continue reading by nightlight (400)

folly (150)

my first folly was trying to understand. it came about in my seventeenth year, from a deep-seated need to pare down wildness into several tiny labelled boxes. i thought myself prepared; drawing the first answers only gave way to new ones. every answer i found was thinly covered, so obvious i couldn't understand why i… Continue reading folly (150)

Vignette (5) (400)

There's a certain artistry to this mountain's edge. Water hums against the edge of the ground, melting hard earth into clay and loosing pebbles into the harbour's water. As far as the eye can see, it's all greenery and water and finally, just before the eye's limit, a cityscape of towering buildings and a bridge… Continue reading Vignette (5) (400)

Study of Living (400)

She paints her lips crimson. This is her favourite part of lipstick, the way the fresh red colour conjures up images of blood and stands out starkly on pale skin, untouched by sunlight. (the colour is her favourite of all, and the best part is the fact that red is the season's newest style. ladies… Continue reading Study of Living (400)

at the beginning (400)

it begins with a window. you're brushing over the frame, rag in one hand, polish in the other. i'd ask what you're doing, but i don't quite care to know. besides, it's obvious enough: restoration of a kind, some new creation you fancy taking place. come away from that, i think, and you do. light the… Continue reading at the beginning (400)

Five

The early-morning chill has settled on the ground, every blade of grass half-white with frost. Shreds of green peek through, the occasional daisy hidden from sight under the frost. The grass hasn't been cut in days and if I ventured over the field more it would reach up to my ankles, easily. It makes it… Continue reading Five