The Bonds That Bind (Sophie)
Sept 5, 2012 9:16:40 GMT -5
Post by SinInChaos on Sept 5, 2012 9:16:40 GMT -5
Colin Hummings
All of my oceans
sank long ago
in the evergoing sea
along the road of life
I must be confused with something that is not quite understandable at for such a foreign body. Something keeps swelling in me, rising and falling in a crazy amount of gut wrenching terror. But I'm smiling from it. I enjoy this feeling of happiness as I raise the needle in my hand and begin to weave through the threads, one after another. The colors are not exactly of my choice, but I know they will go well with the intent that I have designed. It will have to since the clash of a dark blue with a bright red will break through the barriers of a grey world. The colors are just going to have to be bright. No, stick with dark. I have to make up my mind before my family sees yet another side project. It only ruins the business because these kinds of things are always just one of a kind. When people as if we can replicate such a design it will always be slightly different than that original look. Nothing can compare to that first, unique fashion that is crafted with our hands. At least that's what Mom would like us to believe. Ellie and I do sneak off from time to time and make our own things though. I've actually received a few things from her, and given things back in return.
But this is about giving back to someone that was rather generous with me to begin with. Not my sister this time. A stranger. Maybe more, I'm not even sure how to consider Scarlett at the moment. I mean, Hannah was good as well but Scarlett is who I owe more so than the other girl. I'll do something for both. This, though, this special project that will exceed the normal demands of my mind and body, will have to go toward her. I've been up for about two nights now just sketching the initial designs. I had to think which fiber would be perfect for building the present. Then I began filling in colors thinking about what would look the best with one another. I've been through about fifteen sketches before I think I have the perfect model, and then another seven before the colors are just the right balance of beauty and strangeness. The work must captivate the viewer and make them notice the wearer. I want the bearer of this dress to be noticed.
Then again, I just hope she received the letter I sent out. I completely forgot to ask where she lived, or maybe forgot because my mind was elsewhere. Some people around town knew Scarlett, so it was easy enough to locate her abode and drop a letter off. I had told her to meet me today, didn't care if there were others. I would rather there be others to see what they think about this gift I am crafting. She needs to know that this is something that only suits her and not just anyone who wants to wear it. That's how I make these designs; I think of the wearer and imagine what would speak most profoundly about their persona. She struck me as a very caring and considerate person. She, the girl who helped me when I was down on more luck than ever, helped with the intense injuries I had gained where others would have just ignored or robbed me. Scarlett is quite the interesting individual.
I stop the sewing and shake my head. It's not right, I have to try again. I toss the materials toward the side and begin on my fifth attempt.
All of my oceans
sank long ago
in the evergoing sea
along the road of life
I must be confused with something that is not quite understandable at for such a foreign body. Something keeps swelling in me, rising and falling in a crazy amount of gut wrenching terror. But I'm smiling from it. I enjoy this feeling of happiness as I raise the needle in my hand and begin to weave through the threads, one after another. The colors are not exactly of my choice, but I know they will go well with the intent that I have designed. It will have to since the clash of a dark blue with a bright red will break through the barriers of a grey world. The colors are just going to have to be bright. No, stick with dark. I have to make up my mind before my family sees yet another side project. It only ruins the business because these kinds of things are always just one of a kind. When people as if we can replicate such a design it will always be slightly different than that original look. Nothing can compare to that first, unique fashion that is crafted with our hands. At least that's what Mom would like us to believe. Ellie and I do sneak off from time to time and make our own things though. I've actually received a few things from her, and given things back in return.
But this is about giving back to someone that was rather generous with me to begin with. Not my sister this time. A stranger. Maybe more, I'm not even sure how to consider Scarlett at the moment. I mean, Hannah was good as well but Scarlett is who I owe more so than the other girl. I'll do something for both. This, though, this special project that will exceed the normal demands of my mind and body, will have to go toward her. I've been up for about two nights now just sketching the initial designs. I had to think which fiber would be perfect for building the present. Then I began filling in colors thinking about what would look the best with one another. I've been through about fifteen sketches before I think I have the perfect model, and then another seven before the colors are just the right balance of beauty and strangeness. The work must captivate the viewer and make them notice the wearer. I want the bearer of this dress to be noticed.
Then again, I just hope she received the letter I sent out. I completely forgot to ask where she lived, or maybe forgot because my mind was elsewhere. Some people around town knew Scarlett, so it was easy enough to locate her abode and drop a letter off. I had told her to meet me today, didn't care if there were others. I would rather there be others to see what they think about this gift I am crafting. She needs to know that this is something that only suits her and not just anyone who wants to wear it. That's how I make these designs; I think of the wearer and imagine what would speak most profoundly about their persona. She struck me as a very caring and considerate person. She, the girl who helped me when I was down on more luck than ever, helped with the intense injuries I had gained where others would have just ignored or robbed me. Scarlett is quite the interesting individual.
I stop the sewing and shake my head. It's not right, I have to try again. I toss the materials toward the side and begin on my fifth attempt.
