Sticky Note Art Novels & Stories

It's very satisfying work, so much so that when I'm done with the first brochure, I pull the rest down off the wall and start to go through them one by one. In the second brochure, I make all of them pirates (complete with eye patches and parrots, of course). In the following photo, I give all of them racy tattoos. I make them into clowns and cowboys and mutants. I give them bulbous noses and giant ears and fish lips. By the time I'm halfway through the stack, I've gone through all my usual doodles, but I don't stop. It's childish, maybe, and more than a little bit dumb, but I can't help myself. I'll take any small victory against Carolson and Huntington Manor. It makes it even better to ima

I laughed, “They will be typical boys and that’s all that matters to me.” We parked in front of the craft store and we all got out of our vehicles and walked through the doors. It was definitely bigger than the Michaels we were in. We walked around and I found a couple of jigsaw puzzles that I liked and I found a huge paint-by-numbers kit that I absolutely loved. I knew that I would get it framed as soon as the paint dried. It was a picture of Selene’s outline in a starry night sky, with two wolves on the ground below her, looking up as if they were paying attention to her. I could not wait until it was done.

It was a big intrusion of my privacy. I kept the file down where I had found it and continued what I was searching for before I got carried away again. ‘Doesn’t this guy have any contract or property in his name?’ I thought to myself. Soon, I came across an old sticky note. It was torn at the side and faded. It read ‘Inside the first painting 1457’. ‘What did that even mean?’ I thought. Maybe it’s something confidential but I still wanted to check it out. There were three paintings on the wall. The first painting was an old vehicle in front of a sting tree in black and white. ‘Weird but okay’ I took off the painting and there was a little keyboard like that of a mini calculator.

I smile. Salvatore stares down at the canvas with love. I take some black paint and a thin brush. I make stick figures under the hands, a big one under his and a smaller one under mine. "Write down today's date on the back, I want us to remember this day forever" I pass him the brush. He turns the canvas and scribbles down todays date. He flips the canvas back to the painted side, I rest my head on his shoulder, we both silently admire our artwork.

The spray can hissed as she filled in the gaps, before pulling the second segment of stencil from her bag, placing it next to the portion she’d already sprayed, and continuing. By the time she withdrew the third section of the stencil from her bag, she was close to finishing. She didn’t want to leave the art incomplete. To withdraw from the task before completion was worse than having never started. When she’d finished, she discarded the stencils, stood up and viewed her work in all its glory, the black and white image of a homeless man sleeping on the tube. In the bottom left corner, her insignia was written in silver - FreedomAgain, with a small, melting candle next to it, illuminating the

Some indulged in obvious things like dancing to weird music and people stood clustering, watching them. I looked around for any sitting spot, my eyes spotted a road bench across the road and I went over to sit. I drew out one note from the many and examined it. They were far from the ones we used in our time. On the side, which I looked at, was a portrait of an older man in the center; l rubbed my thumbs across the notes, and I discovered that there were traditional raised prints throughout the note, giving it a distinctive texture. I turned the note over. There was a painting of a paneled building at the center of the note as well. There was a thread embedded vertically on the right-hand si

I picked up a few small bobble head turtles for the girls at work. Outside the stalls an artist sat on the street corner in paint splattered shorts and t-shirt painting ocean landscapes. They were simple in nature, but Trey was taken by them. The clipped pace he'd been leading down the main road slowed until we passed the area with small canvases lining the street. At the last piece, Trey turned and started back toward the artist with me on his heels.

Anna took the file for the art piece from Lily's table and handed it to her "You are an artist so just go in there and brief him of your amazing art piece, do not think of anything else" Lily nodded Anna is right Michael is not her ex boyfriend now, he's her new boss Lily held on tight to the file and walked into Micheal's office "Good morning Sir" Lily greeted avoiding eye contact with her boss "So, about my current art piece, the art is a sculpture of Leonardo Da Vinci but made with parchments of starched paper, I just collected......"

“Limited edition painting. If you wanna buy it, you gotta place a bid. Or, get them for free if you sign up for the club.” He shrugged, feeling victorious. The people were silent, unsure of what to say. Malorie stepped forward, still gaping at the painting. “You…” she began. “It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” Cain boasted. “It’s...marvelously bad!” Malorie exclaimed. “What the hell is this?” She pointed at the painting consisting of stick figures in different colors. The shapes were off, looking like an artwork by a kindergarten student. “This is comic art!” Cain claimed. “This looks as if a child drew it!” she hissed. “This isn’t how you make a comic strip!”

He grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark. Cale flinched, shielding his eyes with his forearm. He was holding a charcoal stick—stolen from the art therapy challenge, Elion realized. And on the floor, spread out on the back of old production schedules, were drawings. Dozens of them. Elion lowered the light to look at the papers. They weren't doodles. They were nightmares rendered in black dust. There was a drawing of a clock, but the face was melting.