Category: the basket of random posts filled with beauty
a big basket of posts that don’t seem to fit in anywhere, but that are still full of beauty
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somehow my hands always return to seed stitch, and to colour—although if you were to ask me in a day or so, whether i prefer riotous flocks of colour escaping across the fabric, to the quiet hum of black on white, i would probably smile that half-smile of mine; the one that lives on my…
