buuyokitty

The fish bowl, which my mother would never allow me to place an actual fish in, went instead to aid my imagination. Somewhere, I'm sure that I know where the idea came from, but even now I barely remember the project itself. Inside, pink sand fills the glass almost to the rim. Why pink? I don't know; other than it goes horrendously with the berry scented candle I burried in the middle of it. Ah, and seashells. I remember those because the colors and textures attracted my child-self, and were thankfully within the 10-or-so dollar budget my Dad had set. I'd declared it a major success many years back, feeling quite confident I'd just created so