i was taking a rest in the deep forest when suddenly i heard shouting. i knew exactly what and who it was. i lept onto my feet, weaving in and out of trees and finally reaching home before they coould have caught me.
Weaving in and out of the tunnels surrounding the tired little lake by the trees and the hills. Weaving up and down, around, and around, looping through the holes that are hidden amongst the shadows of material in hand. I weave, we all weave. We weave to fit in, we weave to succeed, we weave to seek and find.
I instantly thought of a hair weave, but that’s not necessarily my fault is it? I thought of it as a noun before a verb which is somewhat of a human condition to have some sort of preference over nouns that verbs. Thanks to consumer culture of course. We can’t go to a store & purchase a verb now can we?
I just had this word but basically it’s something that black people put in their hair. I think it’s because their hair can be kinky and hard to deal with so they put it in for it to be more manageable. It;s also something that you can do with fabric. This word has two meanings which can be cool but also very confusing!
weaving me the sunshine. the falling rain dancing on my arms and lips once touching my skin molding into rays of golden sun. weave me the sunshine out of the falling rain.
Weaves. Long waves from the ocean, I’m going thru them just to see your smile. I keep you in my dreams, I feel you hair touching my face and I go crazy about you even more every single day.
one time while watching saturday night live, the women did a skit about the real housewives show. kristen wiig was mad at maya rudolph and she pulled her weave. however, maya said weave like h-weave haha. it was really funny and then kristen got mad then tina fey sang poorly.
she wove the words together
perfect
every day
weaving the words in one particular order
only one problem
the words she had carefully woven
taken the time to perfect
were never said
I weave in and out of the threads of your love. I’m pulling and running but I can’t get out. So I do a dance, as I weave in and out… Going through the entanglement.. making it out alive.
The weaving of a spider web like weaving of the life. Little by little we advance without a sound, self-confident or haphazard but ultimately, we get a piece of art.
They began weaving the baskets as quickly as they could
they’d be sold to the tourists soon
villagers with violet flowers woven in to dark hair
falling over sunburnt shoulders
we weaved the sweater back together , theres a weave in the shirt , think weaver or not we can go , weaver me together , weaver weaver weaver oh wever me crazy good !
The woman worked feverishly at the loom, weaving a kilt for her husband. The festival was the next day, and everything had to be ready because he was in charge of the proceedings.
these entanglements are the result of love of connection intensity stars cross-stitching across the sky. not always patient, not always constant, not even fixed in one place– but there, certainly, somewhere shining in the sky
Weave through the crowd looking, searching for him. You know he’s not there, but you can’t stop looking just in case he somehow turned up. You can’t stop pushing through the crowd, standing on your tippy-toes to see above the shoulders of those in front of you. Weave, weave, weave.
Warping weft of memories entertwined with skillful fingers. Carefully spun threads of experiences and unarticulated hopes and desires. Tapestries combining a personal past and feasible future.
Weaving dreams.
I like to weave. Baskets are fun to make. Weaving is an important crafting skill. You can make just about anything with some neat weaving techniques. Everyone should try weaving. Take classes at your local craft store.
Weaving a piece of paper together. I don’t get what am I supposed to be doing here. What could I possibly write about weave? I do like this idea though, I just don’t get the point. Sixty seconds is longer than I thought. Looks like I’m done. Goodbye.
oooh girl pat the weave man just pat it when it itches i dont know why i wrote that i heard a kid in my class singing that and i was not paying attention that kid is a weierd kid i spelt that word wrong ohp well i just want milk and thin mints is that to omuch to ask i mean really come on now. I like to think I have friends.
she took her loom from her closet and threaded it, beginning to weave an intricate picture. she stayed there for days, never resting until her beautiful masterpiece was done. what resulted was the single most incredible piece of artwork that is known to man – she wove the human soul.
Weaves are nasty and vile because black girls don’t clean them and they dye them with Kool-Aid. Ew. And have you seen what they (black girls) wear too? Racist i know.
We weave together so many memories, fluid and real, some fantastical and some I wish I could forget. But these are the dreams we’ve had, the thoughts we’ve shared. My other half may not be a part of me in the future, but today, and in this world we’ve made, we’re never going to be apart.
Weaving through the crowed, it is easy to lose myself. What is this paradox of existence, where we are to be unique down to the genotype of our genetic core, yet expected to conform to the status quo?
This word is just weird. I’m from other country, i don’t know how to use it in a text. But i think is very relaxing. i feel great, and sad at the same time.
Baskets have long since been a joke with me. Any time I want to think about something being easy, or kind of a joke in itself, I always resort to “underwater basket-weaving”. It’s always put my mind at ease when I think about someone being under water and weaving a basket.
i would like to take basket weaving in school. my dads joke. thats what he wants me to take. lets see if he can weave a basket. maybe a scarf. do you weave that?
I think of people weaving at the dance center, with different fabrics of their lives.
I wonder what I would choose.
Because I’d want to weave through something that shows me
But not something that I’d be willing to part with
like my old baby blanket
or favorite dress
it’s interesting and I wonder why some of those people chose what they did…
She wove a beutiful web. It could snare the most wary person. Her tastes crossed al sexual and soicial boundaries. She would talk and you would swear that honey was dripping from those lips
as she was weaving the golden thread into sweater to break the curse her brothers were under her fingers bled giving the sweater the color of golden love. How I wish to be loved that way someday.
The dog weaves in and out of the cones. His owner stared with a strong gaze attempting to lead the dog with her mind. The dog subconsciously thought in, out, in out. Abruptly he screeched to a stop after spotting a kitten. The owner dropped any sense of hope of victory, she had lost, she had to walk home dragging the weight of loss, and her oblivious dog behind her.
my fingers rapidly spun the wool around the wimble. bobble bobble tingle tickle the words mix in patterns in my head. they don’t make sense. all i know is that when i am sixty four and everyone is dead i will want one of my own weaved coats. and a thick one at that, because its cold here in the arctic.
weaving beautiful dreams together, we became one.
me a basket out of love and generosity. fill it with joy and happiness. carry it only when you are thinking of me.
i was taking a rest in the deep forest when suddenly i heard shouting. i knew exactly what and who it was. i lept onto my feet, weaving in and out of trees and finally reaching home before they coould have caught me.
Weaving in and out of the tunnels surrounding the tired little lake by the trees and the hills. Weaving up and down, around, and around, looping through the holes that are hidden amongst the shadows of material in hand. I weave, we all weave. We weave to fit in, we weave to succeed, we weave to seek and find.
I instantly thought of a hair weave, but that’s not necessarily my fault is it? I thought of it as a noun before a verb which is somewhat of a human condition to have some sort of preference over nouns that verbs. Thanks to consumer culture of course. We can’t go to a store & purchase a verb now can we?
I just had this word but basically it’s something that black people put in their hair. I think it’s because their hair can be kinky and hard to deal with so they put it in for it to be more manageable. It;s also something that you can do with fabric. This word has two meanings which can be cool but also very confusing!
weaving me the sunshine. the falling rain dancing on my arms and lips once touching my skin molding into rays of golden sun. weave me the sunshine out of the falling rain.
I meant whangled.
Weaves. Long waves from the ocean, I’m going thru them just to see your smile. I keep you in my dreams, I feel you hair touching my face and I go crazy about you even more every single day.
black girls have weaves. i wish i had a weave. bob and weave. weaver. weaverton. WEAAAAAVE? meow.
one time while watching saturday night live, the women did a skit about the real housewives show. kristen wiig was mad at maya rudolph and she pulled her weave. however, maya said weave like h-weave haha. it was really funny and then kristen got mad then tina fey sang poorly.
Weave and Wo, What Ho! Oh what a whagled web we weave… Quoted: Porky Pig.
she wove the words together
perfect
every day
weaving the words in one particular order
only one problem
the words she had carefully woven
taken the time to perfect
were never said
I weave in and out of the threads of your love. I’m pulling and running but I can’t get out. So I do a dance, as I weave in and out… Going through the entanglement.. making it out alive.
The weaving of a spider web like weaving of the life. Little by little we advance without a sound, self-confident or haphazard but ultimately, we get a piece of art.
They began weaving the baskets as quickly as they could
they’d be sold to the tourists soon
villagers with violet flowers woven in to dark hair
falling over sunburnt shoulders
Weaving, designs,patterns. Hair in braids. Baskets weaved by hand. Weaving together.
we weaved the sweater back together , theres a weave in the shirt , think weaver or not we can go , weaver me together , weaver weaver weaver oh wever me crazy good !
The woman worked feverishly at the loom, weaving a kilt for her husband. The festival was the next day, and everything had to be ready because he was in charge of the proceedings.
these entanglements are the result of love of connection intensity stars cross-stitching across the sky. not always patient, not always constant, not even fixed in one place– but there, certainly, somewhere shining in the sky
Weave through the crowd looking, searching for him. You know he’s not there, but you can’t stop looking just in case he somehow turned up. You can’t stop pushing through the crowd, standing on your tippy-toes to see above the shoulders of those in front of you. Weave, weave, weave.
Warping weft of memories entertwined with skillful fingers. Carefully spun threads of experiences and unarticulated hopes and desires. Tapestries combining a personal past and feasible future.
Weaving dreams.
I like to weave. Baskets are fun to make. Weaving is an important crafting skill. You can make just about anything with some neat weaving techniques. Everyone should try weaving. Take classes at your local craft store.
Weaving a piece of paper together. I don’t get what am I supposed to be doing here. What could I possibly write about weave? I do like this idea though, I just don’t get the point. Sixty seconds is longer than I thought. Looks like I’m done. Goodbye.
if i get weave One More Time… there will be Hell to pay. JESUS.
oooh girl pat the weave man just pat it when it itches i dont know why i wrote that i heard a kid in my class singing that and i was not paying attention that kid is a weierd kid i spelt that word wrong ohp well i just want milk and thin mints is that to omuch to ask i mean really come on now. I like to think I have friends.
GODDAMN why do i keep getting the word “weave”? they are nasty as hell!
she took her loom from her closet and threaded it, beginning to weave an intricate picture. she stayed there for days, never resting until her beautiful masterpiece was done. what resulted was the single most incredible piece of artwork that is known to man – she wove the human soul.
Weaves are nasty and vile because black girls don’t clean them and they dye them with Kool-Aid. Ew. And have you seen what they (black girls) wear too? Racist i know.
We weave together so many memories, fluid and real, some fantastical and some I wish I could forget. But these are the dreams we’ve had, the thoughts we’ve shared. My other half may not be a part of me in the future, but today, and in this world we’ve made, we’re never going to be apart.
She said it wasn’t a weave, but he wasn’t so sure. The only way he’d ever find out is by asking her hairdresser directly.
Weaving through the crowed, it is easy to lose myself. What is this paradox of existence, where we are to be unique down to the genotype of our genetic core, yet expected to conform to the status quo?
This word is just weird. I’m from other country, i don’t know how to use it in a text. But i think is very relaxing. i feel great, and sad at the same time.
Baskets have long since been a joke with me. Any time I want to think about something being easy, or kind of a joke in itself, I always resort to “underwater basket-weaving”. It’s always put my mind at ease when I think about someone being under water and weaving a basket.
i would like to take basket weaving in school. my dads joke. thats what he wants me to take. lets see if he can weave a basket. maybe a scarf. do you weave that?
I think of people weaving at the dance center, with different fabrics of their lives.
I wonder what I would choose.
Because I’d want to weave through something that shows me
But not something that I’d be willing to part with
like my old baby blanket
or favorite dress
it’s interesting and I wonder why some of those people chose what they did…
She wove a beutiful web. It could snare the most wary person. Her tastes crossed al sexual and soicial boundaries. She would talk and you would swear that honey was dripping from those lips
as she was weaving the golden thread into sweater to break the curse her brothers were under her fingers bled giving the sweater the color of golden love. How I wish to be loved that way someday.
The dog weaves in and out of the cones. His owner stared with a strong gaze attempting to lead the dog with her mind. The dog subconsciously thought in, out, in out. Abruptly he screeched to a stop after spotting a kitten. The owner dropped any sense of hope of victory, she had lost, she had to walk home dragging the weight of loss, and her oblivious dog behind her.
my fingers rapidly spun the wool around the wimble. bobble bobble tingle tickle the words mix in patterns in my head. they don’t make sense. all i know is that when i am sixty four and everyone is dead i will want one of my own weaved coats. and a thick one at that, because its cold here in the arctic.