You're not sure how you feel about most sports, but you can't help but to watch them when they run. They kick off so hard that they seem to almost fly through the beginning of the race. They're always wearing some form of red. Their hair is a curly mess and when you try to smooth it down you feel something sharp break the skin on your hand. They look at you. Their eyes are glinting gold.
You catch sight of them sometimes, lounging outside small bakeries and cafes. The air seems to move a little slower around them, thick and cloying like honey. Your watch has stopped. Everything is calm and warm, but when you leave the sun is already setting. You only stopped by for a pastry.
You notice them sometimes at the entrances of side streets and tiny alleys, standing side by side. Their hair is dyed outrageous colours and spiked like a hedgehog. The one who is grinning at you beckons you closer, but behind them the one who is frowning desperately shoos you away.
You go to the library early one morning,sleep deprived,half dead and yet absurdly over stimulated from coffee. All the reference books have been loaned out. A librarian, a little smaller than the rest, emerges from nowhere and hands you a copy. There are indents in the cover and for a second you think you see claws hidden in the sleeves of their sweater. Their eyes glisten. You're too intimidated to ask how they got this book.
They seem to show up in the strangest of places. On rooftops, in trees, curled up in a shopping trolley that has been abandoned in the street. Cats follow them everywhere. Your cat has been missing for the past week. You think it has joined the crowd that follows them. They flash you a smile that speaks of war. You know then that you would follow them too. Their smile says that you might have to.
You've lost your friend at a party. Your head pounds to the beat of the music. The creepy 40 something year old that nobody invited has been tracking your movements. As you start to panic a cool hand slips into yours. A silky voice tells you to look away from him. You dance and everything seems more intense somehow. On your way home you find a slip of paper in your pocket. On it is written a telephone number. It disintegrates as you add it into your contacts.
You're feeding pigeons on the boardwalk when you see them. They're crawling low to the ground and you're not sure why anyone would want to do that among the mess of fish hooks and tangled lines. A group of boys are throwing their rubbish into the river. You catch a glimpse of them pouring mud and fish heads into the boys socks. The boys don't seem to notice. When you take your shoes off you find a five dollar bill scrunched up in the bottom.
You're pretty sure that job interviews aren't supposed to be this terrifying, especially not for part time work at a fast food venue. You earn only ice cold stares from them until they see your references. Then they give you a strange smile that sends your heart soaring and plummeting simultaneously. They tell you that you'll fit in here. You just wonder whether you'll be able to get out. When you pull away from a handshake they leave the impression of claws on your palm.
You're on a bus and the sun is going down when you sit next to them. They ask you where you're going and you tell them. They ask you why. You give a much more honest answer than you had expected to. You find yourself trying to justify the actions that have led you to this point. They hum along thoughtfully. You're already at your stop. The bus is empty except for the two of you. You could have sworn that it was full when you boarded, but yours has been the only stop. You turn to wave as you leave but now the seat is bare.
You're grocery shopping and you don't usually make a habit of talking to anyone when you do so, but your eyes lock over the frozen produce. You realise that you're crying. The two of you sit down in the isle. No one tells you not to. The store is strangely quiet, the hum of the lights and refrigerator behind you the only constant factors. You leave with several dubious pieces of life advice and an excellent recipe for fried chicken. as you turn your key in the lock of your door you realise that they know your life story, but you don't even know their name.
You're at a target late at night looking for something that you can't quite name. Nothing seems right. A shop attendant behind you agrees. They lead you through the racks into an area that you have never been in before. Dark things dart between the shelves. They point to an item on the shelf. It is slowly growing. It's perfect. As you leave you glance behind you but the lights are off inside. You check the open hours. It closed hours ago. You check your receipt. It's a plain piece of paper covered only by a shaky drawing of an eye and a price.
You have a foggy memory of a summer camp attended years ago. They were attending too. They always stood a little away from the other kids, the counselors never spoke to them. They showed you secret places hidden behind brambles and stinging nettles. You weren't quite sure how they got through spaces that were so much smaller than their body. On your final day they pressed a tiny golden pendant into your hand. The rest of the memory has faded. You ask your parents about it but they tell you that you have never been to summer camp. The pendant is still in your top drawer. It feels warm to the touch.
Here’s an extremely rough and off the cuff first look at the hair pins I’ve been working on! I chose Bittersweet Nightshade which, unfortunately, does not show well against my dark hair.
I made three different sizes thinking the assymmetry would look nice but I may need to primarily make the small and medium as I think the large size I made, while pretty, will be too big for most people’s hair.
I’ll get a much nicer shot with my DSLR once these are finished curing (I shouldn’t even be touching them right now).
because, y’know, it’s summer and sunshine and everything is pretty and I don’t feel like giving up on the whole making a living through my art thing just yet, so here’s the deal:
get 20% off any purchase at my etsy shopwith acoupon code ZRND20OFF. the coupon’s gonna last till mid-July, and it applies to all purchases made at my shop, including custom orders.
all items are hand-sculpted by yours truly, coated in non-toxic glazes and fired in a kiln at high temperature, making them 100% functional cups and plates and bowls you can use to eat and drink from instead of simply setting them on your shelf to stare at.
no matter what beverage you pour into a rainbow pride cup, it will taste like magic and acceptance and love. ace cups will show you swirls of galaxies in the depths of space, and poppy cups will pour so much positive energy into your drink that you’ll be able to do things you thought weren’t possible.
greetings im an altar ho, here’s my wheel of the year altar.
listen, for altars of any kind. cigar boxes are your best friend. you can find them for less than $5 at secondhand stores, they’re great. what i did with this one is use some cloth at the bottom, wrapped wood planks in the same cloth and stuck them into the top half to give me the nice display feel.
as for the decorations: a friend made me the two summer/winter pendants for my birthday, and i commissioned her to make me holiday symbols medallions (that i designed/picked the colors for) that i can switch out every sabbat. also featuring:
giant crystal tree i found secondhand for $3 that was originally priced $25-30.
rocks i painted with the alchemical elemental symbols
mice skulls from my sister’s owl pellet dissection kit (properly cleaned and treated)
half of a twin painted jade egg set, other brain has the other half