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loser buttercup
08 October 2010 @ 08:32 am

posting some picturesCollapse )
 
 
 
 
loser buttercup
08 September 2009 @ 11:51 am


I tried painting on some handbags, here's the results...the sexy results. The sugar skull bag is on etsy right hurrr If you want the bird bag just holla.
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loser buttercup
04 July 2009 @ 10:06 am
Etsy
Buy Handmade
click to vist store


I haven't updated my lil' lj in over 19 weeks?! The time goes so fast.
I haven't done a lot of painting lately but once things that actually make me $ calm down I have planz for some!
I just wanted to let anyone in the lj world know that I made a few necklaces for a non-profit organization based in St. Louis called Stray Rescue. Take a look or pass the link on to someone who'd like to help out some pups! I hope to be doing this more often. My dream career *fingers crossed* is to combine my love for design/arts with helping animals.
 
 
 
loser buttercup
19 February 2009 @ 12:47 pm

Please be aware that Fennec Foxes are SUPER CUTE!
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loser buttercup
23 January 2009 @ 04:50 pm
Alberta Ferretti

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loser buttercup
23 December 2008 @ 10:38 am


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loser buttercup
09 November 2008 @ 09:13 am

image by flickr user joannajoanna

I am Vertical

But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

By Sylvia Plath
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