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the dark room is my own sanctuary. the smell of oils and inks, and darkness like a blanket that i can steal myself away in. the small space could be considered claustrophobic, but the black and white smiling faces and expansive landscapes seemed to make the room endless. it is the one place i could have complete control of what my world looks like, and who i let into it.
By Taylor Kuryliw URL on 11.10.2011
By RWilkins URL on 11.10.2011
The lady was in love with prints, tiger print, cheetah print, she knew them all. It was as if her first language was prints…and she believed that everybody could do with a tiger print couch in their living room. Yes, it was peculiar, but not as peculiar as the way in which she spoke of them….
By Jessica G on 11.10.2011
When I think of the word prints I think of the beach, the reason I think of the beach is because when you walk in the wet sand you leave foot prints in the sand. I enjoy walking on the beach and leaving my foot prints in the sand, and watching the water wash away my foot prints.
By Amber URL on 11.10.2011
Prints of art, of paws, of fingers, of stories left behind. The scant trace that will lead to the whole story…eventually.
By david URL on 11.10.2011
I wrote about prints yesterday.
By just582 URL on 11.10.2011
she walked into the room
not batting an eyelash
black and white
scattered all over
they tell a story
that she didn’t want to hear.
so she sits down,
struggling to find somewhere to look
anywhere but the floor,
and the walls
and on the tables,
but they’re everywhere.
so instead she sobs tears of heartache
By Iffath URL on 11.10.2011
writing about stuff a report or a candy balloon clown typing level electronics frown brownies cookies
By Nicholas Sun on 11.10.2011
His prints were everywhere. They dirtied everything I owned. I could smell his shampoo on my pillow. I could feel the dip in his side of the couch. I could almost hear his radio going in his office. His coffee cup still sat on the counter. His hat still hung on the hanger by the door. His body laying on the floor. His prints were everywhere, but he was so gone.
By Gigi on 11.10.2011
I always wondered why people wore animal prints. Zebra print spandex, cheetah print fake fur. It might as well be a velour jump suit with matching head band.
By mere URL on 11.10.2011
The paw prints littered almost everything in the house. Some how the ceiling even was contaminated with them. I knew getting a kitten was a bad idea, but I didn’t think this bad. This is horrible! Absolutely horrifying! My lovely clean house, ruined by that stupid cat. I’m going to make that god awful cat pay for ruining my house! Wait, where is it? Kitty!
By David Nate Napalm on 11.10.2011
Ready set go!
I have nothing.
Why won’t something come?
I command you!
Bring me brilliance
That would make Frost swoon
and bring Hemingway to his knees!
Come, come, come!
Why won’t the words come?!!
By Skye URL on 11.10.2011
Calico prints are one of my favorite fabrics ever. I remember a “Little House on the Prairie” bonnet my mom sewed for me out of yellow and blue calico material. I wore it and felt transported back to another era.
By jennifer on 11.10.2011
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.