Lisa Kindred
Stories (4/0)
Something New
Olivia kneeled at the altar, her feet tucked under her gown, with eyes closed and head bowed, her gloved hands resting in her lap, --the left cupped inside the right as if preparing for communion. The afternoon sun angled straw-colored rays through the giant stained-glass window, creating a halo on the worn cranberry carpet before her. Small wooden fans on the ceiling of the cathedral whirled ever so slowly counterclockwise providing a slight but welcomed breeze on what turned out to be an unseasonably warm April for Michigan. She could smell the orchids that decorated the rows of oak pews behind her; filled with people less than an hour ago, they were empty now, except for a few programs left behind.
By Lisa Kindred2 years ago in Fiction
Foxy D
To say I was born sewing would be a completely accurate overstatement. But I truly don't remember learning to; I’ve just always known how. I'm sure my mom taught me, as did her mother with her, and great-granny with gran. My mother (a stay-at-home mom the first several years of my life) would fashion a whole wardrobe for my twin sister and me, creating these adorable two-pieces, Easter and first communion dresses, and sometimes would make herself one to match us. We still dress alike, usually in something we made, for her birthday. Mending and darning are second nature to me, and I’m always surprised at others' awe for this so-called “talent” I innately possess, like blinking. It started with sewing by hand—costumes, outfits, doll clothes--then I made my first dress on a sewing machine my third year in college. Sis and I have created some art. Inspired by the urge to be unique in a world full of alikeness, we've embraced using avant-garde mediums like beads and dimes to design our couture. But the truth is, I don't actually like to sew; I like the end result. The ability to make my heart's desire and wildest fantasies into a reality with my bare hands is sometimes intoxicating. There's no greater feeling. To be honest, sewing gives me anxiety. Measure twice, cut once makes me procrastinate a project far longer than it usually takes to make it. My worst nightmare came true working on my most favorite project to date, my grandmother's 80th birthday dress. But back to that in a minute...
By Lisa Kindred3 years ago in Styled