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I put the stencil to the wall and lifted the can of red spray paint. Slowly, in a hiss of realease, I splattered the red paint onto the wall and watched at I took the stencil away. I laughed and ran, moving my hood to cover my head and face. I had permanantly left my mark on Wall Street.
By Altair on 11.29.2013
He was just a stencil, a copy of something more significant. He always wished that he was original, he tried so damn hard to be, but in the end he would never be as interesting as that original image.
By Matt Burke URL on 11.29.2013
I laid the flat manilla stencil on the table and continued shaking the paint can. The sound of the tiny metal ball bouncing inside the can echoed with a soft rhythm. I sprayed the shimmery multicolored glitter in sweeping strokes with the top depressed. Each swoosh left a trail of sparkling color. With the tiny windows all filled in, I lifted the stencil. A stunning jeweled butterfly lay resting on the table, satisfied and perfect.
By JDwrites URL on 11.29.2013
He let me stencil designs on his body with a feather and golden honey dust. By candle light a series of glyphs emerge as dust motes glint and mingle with smoke rising from the flames clinging to their red hot wicks. His breathing rhythmic and relaxed, I muse upon this picturesque message. And wonder what form of sacrilege I’ve committed when I lick the delicate glyph for “most treasured one.”
By Static on 11.29.2013
Without really knowing when or how, she has carved an image of you—a stencil-perfect replica or your face—into her heart. And while you wander the city streets and try to find new ways to douse the fire raging inside of you with alcohol, she sits and wonders:
When did things start to get this bad?
By WearyWater URL on 11.29.2013
I used a stencil to draw
because I couldn’t any other way
I’m not an artist in the traditional sense.
I can’t be one; I’ve tried.
and that’s all I can do.
By Jessica Tower URL on 11.29.2013
Really this again? Trace heart pink looks better easier.
By ariana URL on 11.29.2013
She grabbed the stencil kit and her pencil and traced the shape. She didn’t know what to do next. Do another one? Or go on to painting. She decided on painting and filled her glass with water, stirred it with her brush and dipped into the purple paint. Purple was her favorite color.
By Collette on 11.29.2013
Stencil, pencil. Joanne & Doug’s house in Dixon Ave. Stenciled living room. Arty, but didn’t save a marriage. Paper stamps. Dragon stamp, paper arts.
By Sombrera URL on 11.29.2013
This graffiti would be much easier if I had a stencil. How do all those taggers know how to do those letters? The uniformity giving way to the individuality that can’e be found elsewhere
By Emily on 11.29.2013
I was stenciled into my life for fourteen years, until a death drew an end to that framework. Now I’m a bright white canvas, waiting for brushstrokes to paint a new life, of colour.
I trace the corners of your face with the gentlest touch possible. The hollow of your eyes, eyes so brown, so deep, they contain secrets I have yet to uncover, mysteries left to solve.
By TrishiaG URL on 11.29.2013
I received a package, left on my doorstep…and I opened it…it was a stencil of a face….but I couldn’t quite make out who it was…I decided to try it out…and I found it was of my face. A very detailed stencil of my face. It freaked me out, basically. So, I threw it all away- both the stencil and the drawing it had produced. Another day, I opened my door to discover a note: “Thank you so much for giving me your face.”
By nodochinko URL on 11.30.2013
the plastic skeleton/outline which we used in school for drawing.
By Ninad URL on 11.30.2013
She was making her own Christmas cards. Now, what did she need? Card, glue, glitter, shapes, toppers and maybe a stencil or two.
By Alexandra URL on 11.30.2013
We all of heard of the use of stencil. its purpose it to make work easy and define. You can see it as a tool, a perfect guide for writing words or making designs of all shapes and boundaries.
By victor URL on 11.30.2013
The stencil outlines characters, it outlines alphabets and numbers. It is a handy tool for quickly etching alphabets onto something. It is incidentally my first tool to have learned how to write, draw, and even paint.
By satyen on 11.30.2013
The stencil laid in my hand as I crushed it. The pain of the flowing blood was too much. My head was spinning. My breathing was slowing. My world was coming crashing down.
And that was how I died.
By Aqil Najhan URL on 11.30.2013
When I was a teenager, I received a floral stencil as a present. I bought some paints at the arts and crafts store and spent the better part of an afternoon painting the border around my bedroom. The colors I had chosen were magenta and teal. I lived with that ugliness for years.
By sharon URL on 11.30.2013
My sister sits at the kidney bean-shaped table in her preschool classroom. “Look, it’s a dinosaur!” she exclaims to the little girl sitting next to her. She then grabs one pink marker and three green (her favorite colors), and proceeds to color both in and outside of the lines.
By Ada on 11.30.2013
i want to
face the fact
i was stenciled different
i have waited so long
it is time now to change
for the better
and for the worse
this is now the time
to live as one
not as two
and cherish you and i
By Hayden URL on 11.30.2013
We used to stencil drawings on each other as holidays and birthdays neared. Afterall works of art had to be presented to family members and strange guests as flood our house as tiny and cramped as it was. And you always were the one that looked best, not because of my awkward dancing doodles but because of the beauty you already had before they began ringing that ever sweet chime at the door for mother and father to hear. I was fine with it growing up, they were kind enough to treat us both well, but as our memories hold those moments now there was always something special about you. PErhaps it was the sparkle in your eye as you talked or maybe the stenciled smile everyone always envied. But either way I miss those mornings and all our girly fun. Wherever you are, please tell me you have not forgotten those times so easily.
By Madison on 11.30.2013
I think of tracing paper. It does rhyme with pencil. Wow, really that all came to my mind . What a joke. what else I can think of to write about the word stencil
By Vixen Black URL on 11.30.2013
She took the ste3ncil from it’s place in her cup holder and sat it on her desk, next to teh res of her drawings. She didn’t know if she wanted t draw them, or to draw semthign else. Dr. Poltski has asked that she draw them, but she was still very sensitive to it. To the kneolwesdge that they weren’t real.
By Ta-Miko on 11.30.2013
The paper was not even set up yet, but she knew what she wanted to draw. To achieve teh perfect fairy wing though, she would need the oval stencil. Otherwise it would come out weird and wonky. She she took the oval stencil and started creating severl oval s overlapping each other until there was a beautful little wing seated on the crner of the page.
There was no longer any stencil to her life to keep the lines in place. The keep the drawing in some recognizable form. Her life had no recognizable form, and she hated it. She hated it every night that she would dream of them, she hated it every days she had to g and talk about them to her therapist. she wished she could forget them. But she knew, no matter what, that that would never be possible.
By Ta-Miko URL on 11.30.2013
He drew a line, followed by another, tracing the plastic edges. He lifted up the stencil and moved it. PROM?
By nina on 11.30.2013
By Jordan URL on 11.30.2013
She said we’d need stencils, and I disagreed. I wanted something more personal, freestyle, improvised. But it was her kitchen after all. I was just a passer-by in her life, I was like a season. She would dust me out over the spring clean, I was certain.
By happyrabbit on 11.30.2013
The sound plastic makes when it falls onto the ground suddenly filled the quietness of the room and disturbed the concentrating and dull-eyed college students in university sweatshirts from their studies. Everyone turned simulatiously and were greeted by the sight of a dark haired girl with bright blue highlights stubbornly sitting on the floor while her companion, a tall blonde guy, desprately tried to get her to stand.
“NO!” She yelled, once more causing the students around her to become even more frustrated. Stencils of all kind surrounded her as well as papers she must have dropped when she decided to plop onto the floor. “Pick up my goddamn book and fix it, asshole!” This caused the guy to say something lowly into her ear. “Overreacting? I’M NOT OVERREACTING!”
By Iyanna the Brave URL on 11.30.2013
she sat alone, pencil in hand, waiting, wanting, wishing for things to change. the chance she had, she passed. her future in her hands, she draws, not for herself, not for others, but the chance to makes things right.
By T.F. Krag URL on 11.30.2013
She traced the pencil around the stencil on the fabric. Cutting out the pieces, she carefully put them to the side. This was going to make such a lovely quilt for her youngest grand daughter. Once hers was done, her job was done. There were no more quilts to make, no more tears to mend. Her day would be done.
By Mary Eagan URL on 11.30.2013
you were my first love.
you set a certain standard
for all my future love affairs.
thank god was pathetically low.
(aside from being a sh*tty person,
you make for a sh*tty memory too.)
By h. b. URL on 11.30.2013
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.