Where did you find the copper? I was wanting to get copper tape to emboss but you have to pay an arm and a leg for it!!! This is fantastic...and of course, another fave!!! You are amazing!
Natalie, this LO touches my soul! I love the poem and appreciate the sentiment within. How PERFECT that you've included seed pods from your garden...Fave!
Oh Natalie this is such a natural beauty! I love the outdoors and you have captured it's essence magnificently! All that gorgeous texture makes me feel like I am standing right there. Love the poetry pieces such a fabulous touch! STraight to the favs!
ahhhh, Mother Nature in all her glory and you've embellished on her work PERFECTLY!!! What a lovely design, with beautiful textures and lovely earthy colors. It's a little bit of heaven right here on earth. TFS.
Absolutely gorgeous! It inspires me to try putting together a LO from pictures of *things* I love, vs. always going for pictures of people of places I love! :)
Beautiful! Your copper looks great! The photos really do depict poetry, don't they? I often say that I tend to like "seeded weeds," for some reason. I think this layout explains it, although your seeds are flower pods (not weeds).
It's beautiful! Love all the embellishments and the photos. If you have a chance, check this layout I made with photos of the milkweed:
http://www.scrapbook.com/galleries/419571/view/2481637/-1/318/1.html
A layout featuring the beauty of late autumn seed heads from my garden. This LO is a companion piece to" Thankful for Autumn's Golden Glow", but Thanksgiving preparations got in the way of me finishing it in time to post at that time! Whereas in Thankful I made the background paper with molding paste and bronze/gold powders, this background paper uses tons of glimmer mists and some gesso. Also included here are fine strips of sheet copper, cut and folded. The piece of poetry on this page is the last stanza of a poem entitled "St Luke's Summer", by Norman Nicholson, and it reads: "The soul too has its brown October days- The fancy run to seed and dry as stone, Rags and wisps of words blown through the mind, And yet, while dead leaves clog the eyes, Never predicted poetry is sown."
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