diy
Do it Yourself; Tips and ideas for DIY projects to give a gift that your significant other won't return.
The Matchmaker's Dirge
What is the creative impulse if not love? Love of the medium, the tools, the process, the result. Certainly there is alchemy in creating; all makers recognize this and revel in its dance. But when we create for others, there is another, secret magic, a tenderness that cannot be replicated elsewhere. In crafting a gift, the maker’s mind can’t help but be occupied with quiet, smiling thoughts of the intended recipient. Like a husband-to-be daydreaming of his betrothed, the maker is captivated by fond memories and anticipation. The challenge of matching a precious loved one to the perfect gift, the hope for delight on their face when the match is a good one, the gratification of a job well done – all these elements combine to transform the unsuspecting recipient into a sort of muse, and to amplify the creative process into something like an addiction. It becomes an urge, a compulsion, a need so undeniable that other obligations might fall by the wayside.
By Mollykin Warble3 years ago in Humans
ME AND MY FASHION DREAM
Ever since I was a small child, I can remember looking for scraps of fabrics in my grandmas’ boxes so I can make dresses for my dolls. My mum was also an avid sewer, I can still feel the scratches from pins whilst trying on the latest dungarees. Scissors and pins spread across the kitchen table as my siblings, and I line up to get fitted. A few years later my family and I emigrated to Australia from Malta. I travelled back to Malta with my mum several times. My sewing machine always travelled with me; I just could not do without it.
By Mrs Natasha Coyne3 years ago in Humans
Baking is my Hero
Thank you for all the support I am someone who has struggled with anxiety, depression, emotional mood swings, even drastic emotional breakdowns and I have always looked for a healthy solution to help; I discovered baking. I have been baking since I was in middle school, I kind of taught myself how to by watching cooking shows, cooking/baking challenges, searching recipes online, and just experimenting. My mom is someone who loves her sweets after dinner with a cup of coffee, while she watches her shows, so when she discovered my passion for baking, she knew she was set for life, lol. I was a middle schooler with much anxiety, which I didn’t quite understand what that meant (I was too young), I never opened up to my mom about it, I didn’t know how she would take it, so I started looking for things that helped me to cope. My mom didn’t take an interest in cooking or baking until later on in her life, so when I started trying my hand at it, I realized I had a niche. The older I got, the better I got, then I had another reason to perfect my craft; my little brother. He was my guinea pig pretty much for all things culinary, he opened up his pallet when I would create new things, if I didn’t know how to make something better, I would ask him since he was a picky eater (at 19, he still is). My little brother and my mom were two of my biggest supporters in my patisserie journey, they even supported me when I decided to take courses at Le Cordon Bleu; unfortunately, I was paying for school out of pocket, I was working and going to High School, I was later laid off from my job so I couldn’t continue.
By Carla SofiiLove Garcia 3 years ago in Humans
Twine Corset
Fall was drifting in and it was time to restock the horses’ hay. I watched as my mom and my brothers grabbed the knots of bailing twine tied around each bail of hay, then hurled the bundles into the barn’s loft. The horses really did love eating that hay and they were kept happy in their barn and pasture.
By Kelsey Kay3 years ago in Humans
Me and My Fashion Dream
Ever since I was a small child, I can remember looking for scraps of fabrics in my grandmas’ boxes so I can make dresses for my dolls. My mum was also an avid sewer, I can still feel the scratches from pins whilst trying on the latest dungarees. Scissors and pins spread across the kitchen table as my siblings, and I line up to get fitted. A few years later my family and I emigrated to Australia from Malta. I travelled back to Malta with my mum several times. My sewing machine always travelled with me; I just could not do without it.
By Mrs Natasha Coyne3 years ago in Humans
E. Min Ho's Coat
The first cut into the fabric of a project always brings me joy and makes me feel I am truly creating. It wasn’t always this way, of course. When I first began working with scissors I would dread cutting. It represented to me the potential waste of resources, supplies and the destruction of an idea. Terrible fear makes for a terrible attitude.
By Spider Lilies3 years ago in Humans
What do you get someone who has everything?
I've known this person for three years. I have never witnessed such a fervor for consumption in the form of buying things. Things: objects, clothing, furniture, food, adornments, etc. Always on the hunt to own the most special, unique, luxurious items that anyone could have or that no one else did. There were cabinets full of pretty little things, "smalls," unappreciated by the eyes that previously sought them out. They were safe now, in possession, tucked away from the possibility that someone else could have them. The floors were an obstacle course of sculptures, paintings leaned up against them and smaller objects that didn't yet have a home (as long as they were under the roof of the collector, I suppose they were). Walking around was full of moments where I would clumsily kick something and quickly look towards him in hopes he wouldn't notice. The couches and chairs had oversized props on them, or bowling balls. This was not a house of living, it was a house of looking. The first time I was invited to come inside, I was in awe of the chaotic curation. I opened every drawer, every cabinet so I could get a better idea of who this person was.
By Jacqueline Leonhardt3 years ago in Humans
Guess My Hobby
It’s not uncommon for my hobby to put me in some strange situations. When I get up from the couch, I’m often covered in tiny bits of paper that fall to the carpet like confetti and don’t always vacuum up as well I think they should. I guard sandwich bags full of interestingly-shaped barcodes, body parts of all shapes and sizes, and flowers like they are fine china. I have several bookshelves full of unread fashion magazines, musty 1920s art school catalogs, rolled Broadway show posters, and a sea of used books and calendars covering everything from outer space to classic cars to paranormal phenomena to high school biology to sheet music to Katy Perry to ballet fundamentals to erotic coloring books to mid-century modern furniture to prison photographs to fine art and everything in-between. I’ve gotten used to falling asleep on the couch in a sitting position instead of laying down because I often have a pile of papers next to me that I’m mining for gold. It’s not uncommon for me to try to sort things into piles that I’m collecting for an upcoming project: straws in the bag in the kitchen, butterfly wings in that box, used envelopes with patterned insides go on the shelf near the boxes of glitter. I wake up in the middle of the night and send myself incoherent emails of “great ideas” and how to execute them and then decipher the directions in the morning. Then they are added to folders with hundreds of similar ideas, just so my well of inspiration never runs dry. I find myself making copies of inappropriate images, sometimes body parts, at work so I can have access to the color copier and the ability to flip or enlarge an image. Then I check the copier several times to make sure I don’t leave any weird evidence that could come back to me. I often find myself googling the oddest specific things: “woman’s leg with fishnets facing left”, “profile of fish with open mouth”, “armpit of muscular man with arm up”. I’ve smoothed out and folded up used wrapping paper and put it into my pocket because I can’t wait to use my hexagon hole punch on it and add it to the background I’ve been working on. People regularly give me boxes full of old clothes, books, or jewelry that were destined for the Goodwill until I asked if I could have them. I’m used to cramps in my hand or the mark the scissors left on my thumb after spending hours cutting as perfect a circle as I can.
By Cory Potter3 years ago in Humans
Happiness is just a stitch away
When it comes to friendship, it is easy to see how love and happiness go hand in hand. If I were to say, “here’s a list of things that I love”, it could just as easily be a list of things that make me happy. That list is long, but here are some things that live on that list in close proximity:
By Lillis Taylor3 years ago in Humans
I Made It
Ever heard of the hero’s journey? It’s a term for the popular storyline or pattern that has been used in innumerable writings since human beings first felt the desire to preserve stories by the written word. It details the journey of an underdog into the person they are destined to become. There is a similar pattern or arc for a creative project. We can name it “the creative journey.” Like the stages of grief, some stages may meld together; you may double back to a certain stage. The transitions are fluid and changing, but in any creative project, you will touch upon them all in one moment or another. Whether large or small, every creative project has a journey, and this is mine.
By Kayla DeCoursey3 years ago in Humans