You are an amalgamation of you and me. Us together, my initials lit in bleeding red on your forearm — a sign of the love we swore we would never hold. It’s sad, because I’d always wanted that tangible piece of art, the one I could hang on my wall and have people ohh and ahh over. What I got instead was us. This imperfect collage of all the things we always wished we could be, sewn together for eternity to mock us with what we will never have.
A collage is more then just a collection of things. It’s a collection of life, of moments, momentos, memories created into memoires that are seen rather then felt. Every second determined by a picture that is felt and connected by a synapsis in the brain
Andrea
The collage was hung on her wall haphazardly, with the tacks you can get for ninety-nine cents at the grocery store. It was all pictures of the summer before–the four of us, wild-eyed and drunk with life and summer.
I can taste the salt in
my wounds and I wash
my toes in
the waves crashed against the boat
sending me to
pieces of bullet fragments
of a disturbed mind
over matter
of taste
It’s delicious. So rich and so sweet.
A group of things, some matching some not. A life that is full and beautiful full of love as in a fine picture album.
Horrace Foster
A picture is worth a thousand words, well i am worth more things inspire me like no one has before i see the world many ways but with you always in mind. id care to share a thousand lives and a thousand deaths despair
taylr prescott
if there was ever a word for it
not to put too fine a point
to find a point in space
to create chaos from a
cosmic collage
is to understand that
it takes more than momentum
more than will
bull headed ignorance
passionate pain and loneliness
the ever dwindling answer to
a question that’s never quite asked.
Matty M.
I will perfectly fit your pictures my pictures our pictures, all of them intertwined to create a perfectly and randomly work of art of us together. as if we still were together.
i will perfectly lock our eyes as if we were standing face to face just to forget you are never gonna be with me, ever again.
M.
Collages are important things. So we think. Collages are over used pieces of junk made by teenage girls. They serve no benefit to society, rather they drain our minds.
Ayan
We collage together bits of our lives to make ourselves happy.
Furiously sticking things together; forcing them to fit to beat off loneliness and unwanted feelings of self-hatred.
Ruth
A collage is a collection of pictures pasted together, all of the same subject matter, such as flowers, or butterflies.
I hung up the collage my friends and I made. I thought back to all the things we did when we were kids. Then I thought about the thing that changed it all. Someone was bound to find out soon. We would be in so much trouble, maybe even be… arrested.
yes. yes it is, but i prefer to call it a collage of clothes, placed carefully about the floor; not quite in your way, but enough to hide the purple stain from when we decided dying our hair was a good idea.
The world was beautiful in it’s sickness. An endless collage of carnage and death. Landscapes painted in crimson, glinting evilly beneath golden sun. Water as red as blood and flowing just as freely.
life.
experiences.
Everything including the darkest of days and the brightest of nights.
My least favourite activity in school.
Kitty
collage
piece me together, will you please?
teacher, i need some help.
show me the way.
this way? that way?
just give me a hint. anything. really. come on.
teacher, i need some help.
It strikes me that mosaic is the new work of my life. That once upon a time, I invented patterns for whole cloth, and only with words. Now it’s all the news… found footage, little pieces pulled together into a story. But then with that one or two woven, hyper-manipulated threads.
Walking up the steps to my new dorm room, I took a shaky breath. It’s okay Carla. There are lots of new people here too. But it still felt like I was alone. I looked down at my room key.
Betti
It takes too much energy to love her. It takes too little to not care. It has been years and years. I’ve grown up and changed. She hasn’t. It takes too much energy to hate her. It takes too little to not care.
Gia
She’s seen it all before. Her smile is fixed. She laughs loudly on cue. She has memorized the script. This isn’t how it is supposed to be. Living the same thing. Never changing. Grow up. Move. Do something.
Ellie
A collage is a mixture of photos. Memories. Each unique to its own, mashed together in a wonderful show of creativity. Each captured moment makes up a greater picture, a metaphor for the thing we know simply as life.
pictures are beautiful. you can put them in a collage and make them pretty and very great to look at. there re different frames you can buy to post your collage on the wall and to see what everyone thinks about it. collages are great with just yourself or others. they are pretty of things also not just people. i love collages.
emily
All my feelings mixed up jumbled but pasted to be a complete picture of my heart I’ll figure it out with the glue and scissors
Brooke
I made a collage of photos from my vacation to the beach last week. In the center was a picture of my children and my wife digging their toes into the sand. It reminded me of why we go to the beach in the first place. To remove ourselves from everyday life to do something that we just can’t do anywhere else. To relax, and dig, and play together.
Jon Hancock
Pieces of tattered photos laid across the floor, they were the jig jaw pieces of emotions from times gone by. A smile in that corner, where he gently wrapped his arm around her for the first time on that warm and fair July the Fourth, Always simply a light hearted fellow and never really taking most things seriously before jumping recklessly into the fray head first, it was clear to her that he would irrevocably be woven into the collage of her past year.
All things, having maybe nothing maybe everything in common coming together to create something beautiful. Kind of like the world we live in now. Every town or sky or city full of people being a collage of its own.
Anonymous
The collage that is my life has been made of experience. Experience from things I have seen with my own eyes and from things I have felt with my own body. Our lives our collages, made up of pieces that don’t seem to fit together unless you look at the whole. Things that appear unlike the others until the story has been told.
Collages of many kinds lay on my bed. My mom always loved them. I can’t believe I’m finally leaving this place. I love her but I have to go to college.
Jade
I loved making a bigger picture out of the smaller inspirations I dug up around me. It was a gift that I was often complimented on, but never paid for. I’ve thought deeply about doing what you love for a living, but can I seriously live an artist’s lifestyle if my parents disapprove?
A collage of ugly photo’s is what the newspapers end us every day. it is a vomit of pictures and leaves the reader with an indigestion. Please editor do someting about itt
verstraete
A collage of words echoing in a chamber of water. I dark moist cave which bats call home. Would you bat an eye? The unsuspecting child who falls in the cave, the terrified bats, who flee in terror from the unforseen invader. The panic. The struggle. The miscommunication.
The End.
collage is some where you go to study and learn.
collage is some where you go to study and learn stuff when you are 20 or up.
You are an amalgamation of you and me. Us together, my initials lit in bleeding red on your forearm — a sign of the love we swore we would never hold. It’s sad, because I’d always wanted that tangible piece of art, the one I could hang on my wall and have people ohh and ahh over. What I got instead was us. This imperfect collage of all the things we always wished we could be, sewn together for eternity to mock us with what we will never have.
Creativity seen by all that we love combined into God’s view of life, all one and separate,
I just love working with my hands. The collage was made of cut-outs of magazine pictures of people’s eyes. It was amazing!
A collage is more then just a collection of things. It’s a collection of life, of moments, momentos, memories created into memoires that are seen rather then felt. Every second determined by a picture that is felt and connected by a synapsis in the brain
The collage was hung on her wall haphazardly, with the tacks you can get for ninety-nine cents at the grocery store. It was all pictures of the summer before–the four of us, wild-eyed and drunk with life and summer.
I can taste the salt in
my wounds and I wash
my toes in
the waves crashed against the boat
sending me to
pieces of bullet fragments
of a disturbed mind
over matter
of taste
It’s delicious. So rich and so sweet.
A group of things, some matching some not. A life that is full and beautiful full of love as in a fine picture album.
A picture is worth a thousand words, well i am worth more things inspire me like no one has before i see the world many ways but with you always in mind. id care to share a thousand lives and a thousand deaths despair
if there was ever a word for it
not to put too fine a point
to find a point in space
to create chaos from a
cosmic collage
is to understand that
it takes more than momentum
more than will
bull headed ignorance
passionate pain and loneliness
the ever dwindling answer to
a question that’s never quite asked.
I will perfectly fit your pictures my pictures our pictures, all of them intertwined to create a perfectly and randomly work of art of us together. as if we still were together.
i will perfectly lock our eyes as if we were standing face to face just to forget you are never gonna be with me, ever again.
Collages are important things. So we think. Collages are over used pieces of junk made by teenage girls. They serve no benefit to society, rather they drain our minds.
We collage together bits of our lives to make ourselves happy.
Furiously sticking things together; forcing them to fit to beat off loneliness and unwanted feelings of self-hatred.
A collage is a collection of pictures pasted together, all of the same subject matter, such as flowers, or butterflies.
I hung up the collage my friends and I made. I thought back to all the things we did when we were kids. Then I thought about the thing that changed it all. Someone was bound to find out soon. We would be in so much trouble, maybe even be… arrested.
This rooms getting really messy again, isnt it?
yes. yes it is, but i prefer to call it a collage of clothes, placed carefully about the floor; not quite in your way, but enough to hide the purple stain from when we decided dying our hair was a good idea.
The world was beautiful in it’s sickness. An endless collage of carnage and death. Landscapes painted in crimson, glinting evilly beneath golden sun. Water as red as blood and flowing just as freely.
i’m piecing together
the bits of your lives
that comprise me
that create me
that condone me
life.
experiences.
Everything including the darkest of days and the brightest of nights.
My least favourite activity in school.
collage
piece me together, will you please?
teacher, i need some help.
show me the way.
this way? that way?
just give me a hint. anything. really. come on.
teacher, i need some help.
It strikes me that mosaic is the new work of my life. That once upon a time, I invented patterns for whole cloth, and only with words. Now it’s all the news… found footage, little pieces pulled together into a story. But then with that one or two woven, hyper-manipulated threads.
my brain. end of story
Walking up the steps to my new dorm room, I took a shaky breath. It’s okay Carla. There are lots of new people here too. But it still felt like I was alone. I looked down at my room key.
It takes too much energy to love her. It takes too little to not care. It has been years and years. I’ve grown up and changed. She hasn’t. It takes too much energy to hate her. It takes too little to not care.
She’s seen it all before. Her smile is fixed. She laughs loudly on cue. She has memorized the script. This isn’t how it is supposed to be. Living the same thing. Never changing. Grow up. Move. Do something.
A collage is a mixture of photos. Memories. Each unique to its own, mashed together in a wonderful show of creativity. Each captured moment makes up a greater picture, a metaphor for the thing we know simply as life.
photos, numerous events, programmes, software, charity, people, smiles, sunshine, photos, cars, software, animals, money, business, France, estetique, beautiful, presentations, divine
pictures are beautiful. you can put them in a collage and make them pretty and very great to look at. there re different frames you can buy to post your collage on the wall and to see what everyone thinks about it. collages are great with just yourself or others. they are pretty of things also not just people. i love collages.
All my feelings mixed up jumbled but pasted to be a complete picture of my heart I’ll figure it out with the glue and scissors
I made a collage of photos from my vacation to the beach last week. In the center was a picture of my children and my wife digging their toes into the sand. It reminded me of why we go to the beach in the first place. To remove ourselves from everyday life to do something that we just can’t do anywhere else. To relax, and dig, and play together.
Pieces of tattered photos laid across the floor, they were the jig jaw pieces of emotions from times gone by. A smile in that corner, where he gently wrapped his arm around her for the first time on that warm and fair July the Fourth, Always simply a light hearted fellow and never really taking most things seriously before jumping recklessly into the fray head first, it was clear to her that he would irrevocably be woven into the collage of her past year.
All things, having maybe nothing maybe everything in common coming together to create something beautiful. Kind of like the world we live in now. Every town or sky or city full of people being a collage of its own.
The collage that is my life has been made of experience. Experience from things I have seen with my own eyes and from things I have felt with my own body. Our lives our collages, made up of pieces that don’t seem to fit together unless you look at the whole. Things that appear unlike the others until the story has been told.
Collages of many kinds lay on my bed. My mom always loved them. I can’t believe I’m finally leaving this place. I love her but I have to go to college.
I loved making a bigger picture out of the smaller inspirations I dug up around me. It was a gift that I was often complimented on, but never paid for. I’ve thought deeply about doing what you love for a living, but can I seriously live an artist’s lifestyle if my parents disapprove?
Life is a collage of experiences. It’s a beatutiful thing
hey do you want to use some of my glue
A collage of ugly photo’s is what the newspapers end us every day. it is a vomit of pictures and leaves the reader with an indigestion. Please editor do someting about itt
A collage of words echoing in a chamber of water. I dark moist cave which bats call home. Would you bat an eye? The unsuspecting child who falls in the cave, the terrified bats, who flee in terror from the unforseen invader. The panic. The struggle. The miscommunication.
The End.