tauralmie

The title says it all... I've started an Etsy shop a few months ago, just for fun: aboutSHE.etsy.com. Nothing fantastic, but it's enjoyable to manage. I hope to have prints in it soon, once I figure out costs with the local print shop and can get quality scans of my work. Lady's gotta get paid! For now though, it's basically what the shop title is: about she. Cowls & earrings & sh*t. Throughout this process I've noticed a substantial change in my art. I love love love fibers. Love.  Still enjoy painting, but it is not nearly as appealing anymore. Perhaps it's the versatility and softness of fibers that I enjoy... With this change I have a

Hello. Hello. Hello. Once the middle of the semester hit I kinda checked out, which affected my thesis, my Xanga blog, my deviantART participation... Aside from facebook, I was basically wading through schoolwork and life happenings.  However, there were benefits to this--I was sleeping more. I am sleeping more. During that time I noticed a huge personal change taking place. At first it seemed I dropped away to find myself, but instead I was--and am--creating myself.  I am no longer the girl I was in high school (although still sometimes unintentionally condescending), nor as anal-retentive about grades or perfectionism... again, to an exte

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" "It doesn't h