Second week of the clay series and I couldn't wait for class — the kitchen table is buried in clay again and my apron is doing the bare minimum. Come get your hands dirty with me?
Second week of the clay series and I couldn't wait for class — the kitchen table is buried in clay again and my apron is doing the bare minimum. Come get your hands dirty with me?
My little desert canvas made it onto the Nevada Day Show wall and I had to come see it with my own eyes — eighty artists, one judge, and my sagebrush holding its own. Come tell me you'd pick mine?
Made it home from the party in one piece and the costume gave up the second the door closed. Sleep never showed up though — tell me how you'd keep me up instead?
The laces finally lost their argument upstairs at Gina's — some spells are just meant to come undone. Still want that dance?
Made it to Gina's with the desert witch intact — though the corset laces are already losing their grip and I'm not fighting it. Tell me you'd still save me a dance?
The desert witch is done and tomorrow can wait — right now my hands found something better to do than sew. Want to come make me stop?
The only light on is the fridge and I didn't bother reaching for anything to wear. Come share the last slice with me?
Gina's costume party starts in an hour and the desert witch is almost ready — the costume just covers less than I planned. Tell me I'm not going to get arrested?
A month of treasure hunt clues and that medallion is still laughing at me from wherever it's buried. Cold pizza absolutely counts as strategy. Come dig with me?
The weekend is still two days out and my body refuses to wait that quietly. Want to come keep me up?