CANDY CLIP ART FREE : purple candy corn : candy eyes for cupcakes
Candy Clip Art Free
- ready-made pieces of computerized graphic art that can be used to decorate a document
- Predrawn pictures and symbols that computer users can add to their documents, often provided with word-processing software and drawing packages
- Clip art, in the graphic arts, refers to pre-made images used to illustrate any medium. Today, clip art is used extensively in both personal and commercial projects, ranging from home-printed greeting cards to commercial candles. Clip art comes in many forms, both electronic and printed.
- copyright free photos or drawings.
- A sweet food made with sugar or syrup combined with fruit, chocolate, or nuts
- Sugar crystallized by repeated boiling and slow evaporation
- (candied) encrusted with sugar or syrup; “candied grapefruit peel”
- a rich sweet made of flavored sugar and often combined with fruit or nuts
- sugarcoat: coat with something sweet, such as a hard sugar glaze
- (of a state or its citizens or institutions) Subject neither to foreign domination nor to despotic government
- Not under the control or in the power of another; able to act or be done as one wishes
- able to act at will; not hampered; not under compulsion or restraint; “free enterprise”; “a free port”; “a free country”; “I have an hour free”; “free will”; “free of racism”; “feel free to stay as long as you wish”; “a free choice”
- Not or no longer confined or imprisoned
- loose: without restraint; “cows in India are running loose”
- grant freedom to; free from confinement
candy clip art free – Hard Protector
I'm kinda colorful.
I’m surrounded by junk, circled in by massive amounts of decorative uselessness. Everything that crowds this space I acquired for free, either I found it or stole it or made it or someone gave it to me. Garbage blends in with possessions, lists & lists of disposable things all suffocating one tall room. Threads, buttons, ribbons, beads, jars, teapots, candles, salt shakers, soda bottles, paperclips, records, coffee cans, suitcases, stuffed animals, dollhouse furniture, paper bags, lawn ornaments, candy, other people’s clothes, fake hair, markers, envelopes, plastic spiders, ceramic frogs, potted plants, small cups, lunchboxes, voodoo dolls, impossibly small mirrors, hair clips, marbles, wiggly eyes, shoeboxes, socks, paints, jewelry, sunglasses, yo-yo’s, clocks, stamps, wind-up mice, jacks, pencil toppers, matchbooks, clothespins…when I look around at all these things I can’t ignore the intentions I had for them once & the neglect I suffocated their potential with, guilt stares back at me from every inch of clutter, I close my eyes to it. Here is a museum of waste. I am the center of the showcase. My hair a gnarled mess, my clothes stained with months worth of awful adventures, perched on the corner of a dusty couch, decorated with sleeping cats & failed art projects. Papers landing awkwardly everywhere I look, like a tiny tornado tossed them up & down & side to side durring an invisible brainstorm, unorganized notes & ideas trampled under a million sets of dirty shoes. Dishes pile up on top of eachother in towers, they look like castles scattered across a waring countryside in clusters all over floors & surfaces, decomposing food congealing on empty plates & containers, a mixture of rotten smells contaminating the air I fall asleep breathing & wake up choking on. My blankets are cold, too soaked with filth to hold any warmth, I curl into myself & shiver through the night, tossing & turning & swatting at imaginary bugs making my skin itchy & stingy. Crumbs & lint feel like glass & wire. I wake up desperate & anxious, in a panic to clean myself & my dying living space. So unbeleivably overwhelmed by the work that’s cut out for me, I leave my bedroom before anything can be done for it. I don’t even open the curtains anymore.
I escape through a hole in my fence, leading to the empty house next door. Most of my cats are already there. I catch my breath on the steps of the porch. I read the bizarre messages I left myself in my sleep, when I opened my eyes there was a pen in my hand, my arms covered in sentence fragments, my desperate subconcious lashing out. In all my recent nightmares there has been a trend: I frantically try to photograph the images of my subconcious adventures while I dream them, I am always disappointed when I wake up to realize I left the camera in my head. Every night I try to go back & recover it. I guess these chicken scrath scribbles on my skin are my reaction to that. I can only make out a few words, "baby powder, pacify’d, the saddest little pajamas in the world. Drink your pediasure it’s delicious."
I wish I knew why that was so important. I sit on the neighbor’s steps & transfer these notes to paper. Dizzy. Annoyed. I give up, follow my cats through a second hole on the other end of the fence, to a second empty house. This one still has some furniture. The door is unlocked. It has the exact same floorplan as our house. Only it’s much more kept up. The floors are new hardwood. The bathrooms are marble. I walk to the bedroom in the back, identical to mine. Thouroughly evacuated. Completely empty. I sit in the middle of the open floor & listen to the echoey sounds of another vacant house. All the space & silence I need to think. If my house were abandoned.
Spun Candy Organza Brooch
This pretty posy comes with a pin back, but you may request a hair pin, barrette or alligator clip. I can also attach a large jump ring if you would like to attach it to a chain.
Can you imagine a bunch in a fanciful bridal bouquet? How about one for each brides maid? I can recreate this flower in a single color, or take advantage of specific color changes in this particular organza. The sky is only limited by your imagination.
Over 6 inches in diameter and a frothy 3 inches high!