Introduction to Cross StitchingCross StitchingMore Like This
Cross stitch is one of a number of embroidery stitches, but usually the one most people are familiar with. Whether it was in a school art class or just randomly picking up a cross stitch kit as a kid, a lot of us have tried it at some point. Lets delve into this popular stitch a little bit.
What is a cross stitch?
As the name suggests, is is simply a cross, or an 'X' stitched with thread onto canvas. Typically, it's used to make a picture or a pattern. The stitch will form a complete square, and in this regard it is quite similar to pixel art. Through the placement of individual stitches adjacent to one another, an overall image will eventually appear.
It's an incredibly simple stitch, but can take some time to master. Like many crafts, it can be difficult to notice the
JohnxVriskaIt was a warm summer's night, and it had been over two years since they'd beat the game. Their worlds had merged, seeing as Alternia was a wasteland.More Like This
John Egbert and Vriska Serket sat on the sofa, watching Con- Air. Vriska was eating candy, sometimes throwing them into the air and catching them in her mouth. John chuckled and turned back to the screen. It was nearing the end, where Nic Cage reunited with his family. Dammit, he always got choked up here. He started mouthing the words, a sad smile on his lips. Just before he could clutch onto the couch cushion as usual, Vriska dropped a hand on top of his, gently grasping it. He looked at her, shocked. She was staring straight ahead at the screen, but John could swear she was blushing. She tilted her head back and started tossing candies up again. They were those chocolate covered raisin things. John hated them with a passion, but Vriska seemed to have a taste for them. One bounced off her bottom lip, leaving a streak of chocolate and ma
Whispers and ImagesYou've caked my alveoliMore Like This
with particles of your dust
And oxygen can't seem to reach that far.
Stifling in the thick, black smog
Of your burning memories
that you've thrown away in the
lifeless grey ashes that crumple between my fingers
And blacken the tips.
It's cynical to think that death is what I need
When I'm flooded with ardent images
that only says you have forgotten about the past
And they flood my vision and swirl beneath
my eyelids like undying flashes resembling
the sting of whiplashes that torture.
I can't sleep,
Cause your past whispers haunt me
And the truth is...
I haven't moved on,
Like you have.
ScarlettShe once loved a boy who was raised by ghosts.More Like This
His name was Nobody,
All of his parents were dead,
And he lived in a churchyard.
They used to play in the rain,
Between tombstones and high fences.
Her gumboots yellow and name scarlett.
Her mother was worried, they thought she was lost,
But dead and lost are not the same thing.
Now she's older she knows it was all pretend.
She wonders how she could have been so morbid,
Playing with witches and ghouls,
Making tracings of strangers' tombstones.
On her way home during the storm,
She stopped at a cemetery to find a phone,
And you'd think she saw a ghost.
She found her someone who was nobody.