tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371174734644616092024-03-13T12:50:55.293-07:00Popcorn CadenceAva!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-77882010351371800702013-09-12T08:59:00.001-07:002013-09-12T08:59:56.419-07:00tumblr<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
hi there everyone!<br />Don't think I'm abandoning this blog, because I'm not.... well sort of....<br />
I've decided to try having a tumblr blog....because this blog has existed for a while now, there's some older stuff on here that looking back on I don't love<br />
Starting fresh seemed like it could be fun so thats what I'm doing. and maybe someday I'll understand tumblr. I dont at the moment, but heres the link to my new blog.<br />
<a href="http://marzipan-draws.tumblr.com/">marzipan-draws.tumblr.com</a><br />
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Hope you all (all 26 followers!) will come visit me over there if i ever figure out how to use it<br />
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Cheers!</div>
Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-58799481348647729092013-09-10T14:29:00.000-07:002013-09-10T14:29:05.404-07:00Twins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j3dJjf43CT4/Ui-OrVN85SI/AAAAAAAADGE/fCkbkcvS4Xw/s1600/twins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="636" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j3dJjf43CT4/Ui-OrVN85SI/AAAAAAAADGE/fCkbkcvS4Xw/s640/twins.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
drawn from an interesting ad for some designer fashion.</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-21579401365683198172013-09-08T14:07:00.000-07:002013-09-08T14:07:01.910-07:00Holga shooting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
For my birthday I got this awesome camera.<br />
<img height="212" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_liz777k5ON1qfyjoto1_500.jpg" width="320" /><br />
Not only is it just really awesome to look at (and draw) its REALLYYY fun taking pictures with. I'm pretty new to shooting with film so I feel like I have a lot to learn...especially after I only ordered 10 prints of the 2 rolls I had developed. The results were so cool though. Everythings a bit weird and dreamy and blurry...I think that is given, shooting with a plastic camera, but I think I'll be learning a lot of tricks and techniques as I get to know the holga.<br />
Here are a few of the images--<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kIpnOiKR77s/UizlMf2NuxI/AAAAAAAADFc/JM0c6xjd98s/s1600/holga2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kIpnOiKR77s/UizlMf2NuxI/AAAAAAAADFc/JM0c6xjd98s/s400/holga2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iyh9ah8F970/UizlMDp7urI/AAAAAAAADFo/R9KoXh9nl78/s1600/holga3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iyh9ah8F970/UizlMDp7urI/AAAAAAAADFo/R9KoXh9nl78/s400/holga3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8kHnS-LdfsY/UizlMSaxhZI/AAAAAAAADFg/UCupngfeKFo/s1600/holga4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8kHnS-LdfsY/UizlMSaxhZI/AAAAAAAADFg/UCupngfeKFo/s400/holga4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zsUHITveDTI/UizlMgnevaI/AAAAAAAADFw/JSsNqxmd8k0/s1600/holga6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zsUHITveDTI/UizlMgnevaI/AAAAAAAADFw/JSsNqxmd8k0/s400/holga6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(The last two were taken in IKEA.)</div>
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Anyway...its been great fun. Also, today I picked up (at a huge antique show/flea market type thing) a little and quite adorable Brownie camera for only $10!! Its in good shape and I'm going to be experimenting with that, too, once I get some 120 mm film. There are only 8 exposures per roll. How adorable.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn-s3-1.wanelo.com/product/image/3854664/original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://cdn-s3-1.wanelo.com/product/image/3854664/original.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what the Brownie looks like, basically...mine is a Vacationer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-7675560761702071382013-08-31T15:52:00.000-07:002013-08-31T15:52:02.556-07:00Hair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0kxPuZpLHA/UiJzPey4aZI/AAAAAAAADCw/t2QvSgOBqGw/s1600/pastelhair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0kxPuZpLHA/UiJzPey4aZI/AAAAAAAADCw/t2QvSgOBqGw/s400/pastelhair.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
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Crazy pastel-colored hair! </div>
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I'm going to try to post again regularly...yay!</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-23074275950250555692013-04-14T12:13:00.001-07:002013-04-14T12:13:56.490-07:00Marie + Magnolia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
and here they are<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZoWkudGlBGw/UWr_ujqlaHI/AAAAAAAACxo/TjYbf1On0ec/s1600/april+292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZoWkudGlBGw/UWr_ujqlaHI/AAAAAAAACxo/TjYbf1On0ec/s640/april+292.JPG" width="432" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-43778407980066249322013-03-29T09:14:00.000-07:002013-03-29T09:17:21.460-07:00Some more Red House writing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some more writing for the characters Magnolia, Marie, and Cora, who I've posted other pieces about. Drawings of Magnolia being grumpy to come.......<div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two railroad lines ran west
along the outskirts of Tipperary Village. Only one was still in use, the other
track had long since been choked with scotch grass and weeds, a looming pile of
rocks and cement chunks spilling onto the ties. No trains stopped in Tipperary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Magnolia liked to walk to the
rock pile in the evenings, after leaving the Red House from the back. Marie
would accompany her, and they would kick off their shoes and sit on the big
smooth boulders with their backs to the scraggly woods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were the weird rusted remains of something strewn
by the tracks, a strange metal frame just taller than their heads with a
rotted-out platform sitting there, plus pipes and corrugated sheets and other generally
dangerous and sharp-edged scraps;.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The girls weren’t stupid. They
didn’t stand beneath the falling-down platform (it was only a matter of time
before it really did crash down, hopefully not on anyone’s head) or cut their
bare feet on all the rusty metal. “You girls’ll get lockjaw from playing down
there, with all that rubbish by the train track,” Colleen, the cook, had warned
them. They were careful after that, especially careful, as the dictionary had
led them from “lockjaw” to “tetanus” to a very unpleasant sounding description
of that disease. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course, Ms. Caddigan had no
knowledge whatsoever of Magnolia and Marie’s nightly escapes. Cora knew, but
Magnolia had blackmailed her into silence by telling her if she told that witch
Ms. Caddigan, she’d do what she’d done before and put a snake in her bed and
toad’s eggs in her nightgown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was the evening of the first
day of August, just before the cousin’s second month at the Red House began. No
escapes to their secret spot had been possible for over a week, and Magnolia
had already complained to Marie three times that day that she was losing her
mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Marie believed her. It would be
hard for anyone, and was even <i>harder</i>
for Magnolia to be cooped up in a stuffy old manor house where the amount of
people she didn’t like far outnumbered the people she did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> When Marie told her there were good chances of
making a break for the secret spot that evening, Magnolia was so relieved and
excited she believed maybe she would go insane after all waiting for dinner to
be over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But nothing of great drama
happened—their cousin Cora continued to be a brat, Ms. Caddigan continued to be
a condescending, expensive-clothes-wearing evil witch, the steak continued to be
tough and Magnolia didn’t explode or start throwing silverware. This was a
definite good thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The two girls quietly put on
their sweaters and slipped into the kitchen, while Cora glared at them from the
upstairs landing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Tell Ms. Caddigan we’re taking
our baths if she asks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> This was what Marie always whispered to
Colleen through the screen door as they were leaving. Both girls were positive
she wouldn’t tell on them: Colleen was sensible and had been kind to them since
they’d arrived, and was also possibly the exact opposite of Ms. Caddigan, which
said good things about her character.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The walk to the railroad tracks
was short, perhaps six minutes at most, and involved walking to the end of the
rambling gardens on the south side of the house and cutting behind the
groundskeeper’s hut, where a man named Charley Day lived. The girls had yet to
hear him speak a complete sentence, but he seemed friendly enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s August first, right?”
Magnolia was trying to braid three pine needles together as they walked. Marie
nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The day after tomorrow, we’ll
have been here exactly two months. Can you believe it--?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She glanced over at Magnolia,
who had dropped the pine needles and was scowling. Marie stopped walking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You hate it here, don’t you.”
It wasn’t even a question. Magnolia sighed deeply and plopped onto the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I <i>appreciate</i> the Red House itself. I still want to explore those
attics that Colleen told us not to go in…and I like looking at that tapestry of
the elephant impaling people on its tusks. And I like our secret spot…” She
stopped and looked Marie straight in the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But Marie. I <i>despise </i>Ms. Caddigan. She’s made of
plastic, I’m positive. And Cora is being more insufferable than ever and I <i>so </i>want to punch her most of the time
and HOW am I going to last another two months in tiny little Tipperary village
where the only thing the townspeople talk about is how <i>cloudy </i>it is and who the postman last had an affair with! AHHHHH!”
She lay down on her back in the exact middle of the path and closed her eyes
against the darkening sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Marie sighed too and held out
her hand. Her cousin was very obviously at her wit’s end, and honestly she was
worried as well as to how Magnolia was going to get through two more months here.
She was fairly sure her self-control was all but used up by now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Come on. Get up. This is
halfway over, you know. Now, shall we?” Marie heaved Magnolia to her feet and
they walked away in step down the packed-dirt path.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-23072534966166322062013-03-25T12:03:00.003-07:002013-03-25T12:03:51.879-07:00untitled sketch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UV8rr_O3-bk/UVCfehSMYlI/AAAAAAAACQE/B7GtX_5A2RI/s1600/charactersketch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UV8rr_O3-bk/UVCfehSMYlI/AAAAAAAACQE/B7GtX_5A2RI/s640/charactersketch.jpeg" width="422" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-37680516751200481372013-03-19T08:50:00.000-07:002013-03-19T08:50:17.834-07:00Character design<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PUGLUV_06Iw/UUiIhUAznwI/AAAAAAAAB_8/rkFeianEey4/s1600/stuff+in+march+037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="592" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PUGLUV_06Iw/UUiIhUAznwI/AAAAAAAAB_8/rkFeianEey4/s640/stuff+in+march+037.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AcU2ZIn9yQQ/UUiIji7LDQI/AAAAAAAACAE/Z10HeUbzQHw/s1600/stuff+in+march+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AcU2ZIn9yQQ/UUiIji7LDQI/AAAAAAAACAE/Z10HeUbzQHw/s320/stuff+in+march+040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
The best way for me to think of new characters is drawing people I like the look of...who knows when any of them will actually come into a story.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
and here's a bonus doodle of Supermaeve.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8o7yija53ZQ/UUiIlZIka7I/AAAAAAAACAM/zGFU7WY0sHM/s1600/stuff+in+march+044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8o7yija53ZQ/UUiIlZIka7I/AAAAAAAACAM/zGFU7WY0sHM/s320/stuff+in+march+044.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-73395751018293796762013-03-06T07:03:00.000-08:002013-03-06T07:06:06.444-08:00harajuku<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fXHo_TwarWw/UTdbM84iBHI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/OgbEyuOqYCE/s1600/late+winter+2013+434+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="365" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fXHo_TwarWw/UTdbM84iBHI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/OgbEyuOqYCE/s400/late+winter+2013+434+(1).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
painted these girls using reference photos from tokyofashion.com and had SO MUCH FUN</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--t8NTZ_ACkQ/UTdbOcd5NEI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/ytXn8HjtxFM/s1600/late+winter+2013+440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--t8NTZ_ACkQ/UTdbOcd5NEI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/ytXn8HjtxFM/s640/late+winter+2013+440.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-56440169386442286902013-02-23T07:40:00.000-08:002013-02-23T07:47:21.457-08:00Maeve<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7iHevMfdz0/USjkXi89b1I/AAAAAAAABzg/KF5tr47y8zs/s1600/maeve1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7iHevMfdz0/USjkXi89b1I/AAAAAAAABzg/KF5tr47y8zs/s640/maeve1.jpg" width="636" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
that, or she's blushing. I don't know which.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxT0hI-3r8E/USjibiLHvLI/AAAAAAAABzM/YNOScneYBMU/s1600/maeve2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="638" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LxT0hI-3r8E/USjibiLHvLI/AAAAAAAABzM/YNOScneYBMU/s640/maeve2.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and another disgruntled Maeve.</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-49787013718479802502013-02-09T09:28:00.002-08:002013-02-09T09:28:34.733-08:00people in history<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PKWUFeM4Gq4/URaGx0d15fI/AAAAAAAABq4/VaESCp_JfGE/s1600/mask.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="491" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PKWUFeM4Gq4/URaGx0d15fI/AAAAAAAABq4/VaESCp_JfGE/s640/mask.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Paintings done on pages from an old book called <i>People in History....</i></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OGfs1uKp_ts/URaGvcX9KCI/AAAAAAAABqw/tGupTGEplyg/s1600/painting.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OGfs1uKp_ts/URaGvcX9KCI/AAAAAAAABqw/tGupTGEplyg/s400/painting.jpeg" width="350" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-26456429155789579862013-01-28T15:16:00.006-08:002013-01-28T15:16:53.921-08:00portrait<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njMP6sqigbY/UQcGrlNgjjI/AAAAAAAABl8/wbdIFmVCchE/s1600/mimi.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njMP6sqigbY/UQcGrlNgjjI/AAAAAAAABl8/wbdIFmVCchE/s640/mimi.jpeg" width="542" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-19960619317843750922013-01-13T09:03:00.001-08:002013-01-13T09:03:46.452-08:00spirited away<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-srbg2eeaYrw/UPLnqyZ6lfI/AAAAAAAABe0/kzgcddYNJoM/s1600/sewing+and+ava+pictures+182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-srbg2eeaYrw/UPLnqyZ6lfI/AAAAAAAABe0/kzgcddYNJoM/s640/sewing+and+ava+pictures+182.JPG" width="544" /></a></div>
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a bit of Spirited away fanart of Chihiro and Yubaba. done with the help of MY FAVORITE BOOK EVER, aka <i>The Art of Spirited away.</i><br />
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-60330138316611093732013-01-03T16:04:00.000-08:002013-01-03T16:10:34.078-08:00writing piece + happy 2013!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Happy new year everybody! Hoping everyone has had a great beginning of 2013. Also, this is the beginning of this blogs third year, so....cheers!<br />
And here is the beginning of a new untitled, unrelated (and slightly gloomy, but oh well) story I've just started.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I </span></span><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">didn't</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> walk five blocks in the pouring rain that afternoon by choice. I need to
make that clear. Just so you can understand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> If things obediently mirrored the
lists I’d been writing in this notebook, titled <i>Best-case
Scenarios</i>, nothing would have gone the way it did and I’d be happy. I
suppose that’s obvious, though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> I </span></span><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">didn't</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> make any worst-case scenario
lists. It’s the same sort of idea of how hard it is to retell the worst
nightmares aloud—no one wants to relive that kind of terror. In this case, I
was worried putting my fears down on paper might make them come true more
easily. If I let them go from my mind to my notebook, they are one step closer
to where they go next, which is, unfortunately, reality.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> I </span></span><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">didn't</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> become friends with Celeste
by choice either. I never </span></span><i style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">wanted </i><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">to
go to her apartment, never </span></span><i style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">wanted </i><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">to
see what I did and somehow become involved with the last thing I wanted to be
involved with. Some things you can’t help, I suppose. Never mind the fact that
now I’m sitting in the old hospital at the top of the hill, the one that caught
fire shortly after it closed down. They never really cleaned it out thoroughly,
and at the moment I’m sitting atop a rusted metal gurney. It’s high enough so
my shoes don’t have to touch the floor, which is black with dirt and soot and
other things I don’t like to think about, much less put my feet on it. The
walls are worse. I don’t even know what kinds of things they must have seen in
their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s
chilly here, since there’s no glass in the windows anymore. Now that it’s late
November the wind is starting to bite and I keep forgetting my jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bell MT","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
don’t have a watch. Even so I know Celeste is late. <i>Late or not coming. </i>Late is what I’ve been telling myself now, even
though she’s been perfectly punctual for weeks. <i>Weeks…</i>That’s what’s been nagging at me. It’s been four weeks since
we first started meeting at the hospital. Four weeks. My time’s run out, and
this time she really isn’t coming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-35913734761876600012012-12-27T09:39:00.002-08:002013-01-03T16:09:54.774-08:00typewriter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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a pen-and-ink drawing of my Remington 5 typewriter--</div>
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Hope that everyone had a great holiday, and happy almost-new year!</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-61432839562584974882012-12-15T07:38:00.001-08:002012-12-15T07:38:39.604-08:00Katie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ycC-9oXHTy4/UMyX8InB7bI/AAAAAAAABV4/dsm1CIjOKVc/s1600/welfleet+2012+and+sewing+315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ycC-9oXHTy4/UMyX8InB7bI/AAAAAAAABV4/dsm1CIjOKVc/s400/welfleet+2012+and+sewing+315.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WsEeLQXZnkM/UMyYJXromrI/AAAAAAAABWI/XRl52xH35aY/s1600/welfleet+2012+and+sewing+317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WsEeLQXZnkM/UMyYJXromrI/AAAAAAAABWI/XRl52xH35aY/s640/welfleet+2012+and+sewing+317.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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A painting I did for a magazine illustrating the story of a girl named Katie in the 40s who wants to play on a baseball team--<br />
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Happy Holidays everyone, hope you're enjoying the beginning of winter so far</div>
Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-75304094846342568682012-11-23T19:22:00.003-08:002012-11-23T19:25:27.278-08:00Soloist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3T-2HoQl8BU/ULA850g8HKI/AAAAAAAABUQ/aV_pXybAwto/s1600/soloist_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3T-2HoQl8BU/ULA850g8HKI/AAAAAAAABUQ/aV_pXybAwto/s640/soloist_sketch.jpg" width="386" /></a></div>
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experimenting with a pencil sketch I scanned into photoshop</div>
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(coloring it, using various filters, and clicking on random things)</div>
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it actually turned out fairly well, considering I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but I have everything to learn about PS (so I can actually use it. as a <i>tool</i>)</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-11348264661759476002012-11-17T15:01:00.002-08:002012-11-18T09:24:01.756-08:00US mail<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DEBwGA2h5fo/UKkZp-r_89I/AAAAAAAABT8/ZQKo0_mNulQ/s1600/mailbox.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DEBwGA2h5fo/UKkZp-r_89I/AAAAAAAABT8/ZQKo0_mNulQ/s320/mailbox.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-65430524655741606982012-11-05T15:20:00.001-08:002012-11-05T15:20:53.056-08:00Boy's Town<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yn2_PhDO1cQ/UJhIj_LB2NI/AAAAAAAABSM/YtRlwZy5U8I/s1600/sketchbook+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yn2_PhDO1cQ/UJhIj_LB2NI/AAAAAAAABSM/YtRlwZy5U8I/s640/sketchbook+007.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have covered the front of my nice new moleskine watercolor notebook (!) with these great old postage stamps from Boy's Town, Nebraska. My favorite is the one on the bottom row that says, "He ain't heavy, father, he's m' brother!" ^_^<br />
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-32286674111175506432012-10-29T09:46:00.003-07:002012-10-29T09:47:12.128-07:00g r e e n<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kSs8EWwlgjM/UI6ymmfw8CI/AAAAAAAABQk/CK6T1wNr_Q4/s1600/october+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kSs8EWwlgjM/UI6ymmfw8CI/AAAAAAAABQk/CK6T1wNr_Q4/s640/october+009.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
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inside designing dresses, waiting for Sandy to come....<br />
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-89507531369839364732012-10-15T15:28:00.000-07:002012-10-15T15:28:28.406-07:00lined paper sketch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSYPf7vG1jI/UHyNss7Ee3I/AAAAAAAABN4/9rpzEXMm7q0/s1600/pencilsketch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSYPf7vG1jI/UHyNss7Ee3I/AAAAAAAABN4/9rpzEXMm7q0/s640/pencilsketch.jpeg" width="490" /></a></div>
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Here is a pencil drawing I did on lined paper....sorry for the lack of posting lately. more Green Children writing to come.</div>
Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-91154057061857844152012-10-01T18:00:00.002-07:002012-10-01T18:12:51.948-07:00green children #1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is the first segment of my green-children project where I write their story from several different perspectives, each one illustrating a different theory about who they were and where they came from.<br />
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This one is from the perspective of the forest/mountain/mine shafts the children wandered into after leaving, in this theory, St. Martin's land, aka a magical faerie isle. It is definitely the most abstract of the theories. Of course, it would be hard for it not to be abstract, considering it's told by a mountain.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">i’ve
lived my life for a thousand years and i will for a thousand years to come. i
watch the sky and the sun rising and falling and feel the earth changing and
shifting around me: in my roots, in the stone walls of the caverns within me.
bitter winters don’t shake me. i am more than what i seem. you can’t blow me
down, can’t pull me up or knock me over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">the
children were so young. a blink in my own eye, really, just beginning their
already fleeting lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">there
was a girl, a boy, skin green as spring. i felt them, watched them, listened to
them for so long—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">they
were within me. in the mine shafts, among the trees. and i came to know them as
they walked, they came to be my own—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">a
part of me in a way, a way that’s hard to explain. i knew of their past, knew
of the land they’d appeared from. remembered the forever-twilight and the river
that churned, gushed green-black-blue all at once. now they were broken off
from st. martins. lost in an unfamiliar place, that’s what they felt they were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">i
wanted to tell them. i wanted to tell them i was here, i was all around them, i
knew them. they were safe within me, i watched over them every moment until
they went out the other side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">there
were scattered bands of wolves throughout the woods. desperate creatures,
bone-thin. their eyes always brought to mind the thick ice on the pond come
winter: gleaming and dull at the same time, heavy. dark. cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">i
watched those wolves as much as i watched the two of them. not letting my guard
down. i wasn’t going to let some ferocious part of me take them down. no. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">pan
and gelsey is what i called them. pan for the little boy and gelsey for the
girl. named them like they were my children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">in
a way, they really were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">i
knew they wouldn’t stay forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">how
could they? i loved them but there was no way they could know that. i was not the
place for them. i never could have been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">the
last passage comes out on the fields where the reapers are. i knew they would
be found. i pushed them along on that last leg of their journey, cleared their
path of rocks and pitfalls, held myself steady so the rocky ceilings closing in
the caves inside me wouldn’t fall down on their heads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">as
soon as they took a step into the field they were gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">there
is a blindfold over my eyes forevermore. i can’t see them now that they are
gone from me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; line-height: 115%;">but
still as much a part of me as before, always.<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-79506072932269779052012-09-30T15:40:00.001-07:002012-10-01T14:10:44.061-07:00Mexico '68<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ygy2E9VpiaI/UGoGoV_yNWI/AAAAAAAABJQ/JitwGWz3x00/s1600/cider++shots+and+stuff+077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ygy2E9VpiaI/UGoGoV_yNWI/AAAAAAAABJQ/JitwGWz3x00/s640/cider++shots+and+stuff+077.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
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if you look closely, you can see this piece of paper is quite old, it's a medal count for Italy from the 1968 Olympics, which I thought was really cool. the painting on top of it is fairly unrelated.</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-19650993566450202232012-09-19T16:01:00.001-07:002012-09-19T16:02:43.083-07:00the Green Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Has anyone heard of the Green Children of Woolpit before?</div>
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Sometime in the 12th century, two little kids appeared right outside the village of Woolpit in Suffolk, England. Their skin was a very unusual color, they spoke a language that no one understood, and the only food they ate was green beans.</div>
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This was in the time when people believed in faerie-changelings and those types of stories.</div>
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The boy was unhealthy and died shortly after they arrived in the village and were baptized. The girl, however, survived, and eventually learned English. When she did, she said she and her brother were from a place called St. Martin's Land, where it was always twilight and all the people were green. She grew up healthy and eventually got married. The strangest thing is that after they had arrived and began to eat normal food (other than beans) their skin lost its green color.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VWw-uAVYWzs/UFpJwpErw-I/AAAAAAAABCQ/4TjHo3t3IL8/s1600/greenchildren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VWw-uAVYWzs/UFpJwpErw-I/AAAAAAAABCQ/4TjHo3t3IL8/s400/greenchildren.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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People have different theories for what really did happen, one being that they were, actually, faerie children, but also that they may have had chlorosis (what turned them green) or arsenic poisoning (both are scary ideas.) Rather than having come from a magical unknown place, it is possible they were North Belgian refugees, as at the time Belgian people were trying to immigrate to England and a large number of them killed.</div>
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I won't give all the details of the theories now, because I have a plan for a project where I tell their story from different perspectives, each one illustrating a different theory or idea of what could have happened.</div>
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I shall start posting them as soon as I can.</div>
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Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-537117473464461609.post-64478478631154555672012-09-04T14:56:00.000-07:002012-09-04T14:56:36.907-07:00redesign!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
as everyone's probably noticed....I've given my blog a redesign! I have a nice new font and new header and everything--I'm pretty happy with it! What do you think?</div>
Ava!http://www.blogger.com/profile/11987351629291489325noreply@blogger.com4