hand dyed shirt

Nerdy girls need love, too

Date a girl who always wears something based on some weird movie or tv show or cartoon. Sometimes it’s obvious, like Princess Leia’s medal-award ceremony outfit. But it’s more interesting if you need to figure it out, like a hand-dyed tee shirt that’s red on the right, green in the middle and blue on the left. (Hint: there’s a circle with an arrow coming out of it on the front at the waist…)

Wildwood

The Wolf Folk came into town that Saturday. All the children at the orphanage lined up along the wire fence to watch them roll in, craning against the sagging wire mesh to catch a glimpse of furry ears or sharp fangs. The bright caravans looked like technicolour train carriages , bouncing over the rocky terrain and winding down the mountain road in a long, serpentine parade. The Sister’s at the orphanage warned them not to get to close. They said the Wolf Folk ate little children like them.

They certainly were unlike anyone Levi had ever seen, but he saw no fur nor fangs. All he saw were beautiful brown people, smiling and laughing in their gaudy entertainer’s garb, bells on their ankles and sashes in their hair. Levi watched one caravan full of children rattle by, brown skinned kids no older than himself staring back at him with wide eyes and gap-toothed grins. They looked happy and bright. He wondered what they’d done to earn the distrustful and wary looks the townsfolk sent their way, and he wondered how they didn’t seem to mind it.

On Wednesday, Levi went down to the stream that ran behind the orphanage. He took his homemade catapult and a bruised apple.

Down by the stream he fished out a few smooth, small stones from the riverbed. He placed his apple on the log that ran across the rushing water and practice a few shots. He knocked the apple in on the fourth try.

“You’re very good at that.”

Levi startled and looked up from his perch. Across the river was a boy he’d never seen before crouched by the river back with his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t from the orphanage, and he didn’t look like he was from town. His skin was brown and he wore patched and faded clothes that, despite their obvious wear and tear, still looked brighter than anything people in town wore.  When he smiled, and he never seemed to stop, a snaggletooth bit into his lower lip. He had the greenest eyes Levi had ever seen.

“You’re one of them folk.” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say ‘wolf’. He wasn’t sure if they called themselves that, or if it was the sort of thing murmured behind hands out of earshot.

“Yes.” The boy looked over his shoulder back the way he must have come. Over the grassy hill rose a column of grey smoke from a nearby campfire. Levi knew the Wolf Folk had set up their camp in the fields neighboring the orphanage grounds, but he hadn’t thought they’d wander. “Can I have a shot?” The boy eyed Levi’s catapult hungrily, grubby fingers twitching on the hem of his cut-off trousers.

Keep reading

3

starting to accept myself made breathing a tad bit easier & even though im not at the 100% mark of doing so, i’m slowly getting there.

I had a seriously shitty day last Saturday and got it into my head to make this shirt. The anger, and just general want to be elsewhere that the song yells at me, perfectly encapsulated my feelings that day.

It’s a work out shirt, hand dyed and painted, I carved the words out of a red piece of jersey and then sewed them on. I’m pretty happy with the way it looks, though I’m wondering why I went through the trouble for something I’m going to sweat heavily in.