I have started the complicated process of making myself a handbag out of some of my old jeans, newspaper, and other pieces of cloth - but I am far from finishing it. 
My grandmother's birthday was coming up so I decided to interupt the process to make a much smaller item out of the same materials and technique as a gift for her.
So use your imagination to imagine how my handbag will look like!! I have never tried anything quite so complicated and my sewing machine does not work, so it will definetely take a lot of time!
I hope you like the little pouch I made for my grandmother and the instructions will come soon when I finish it! 
Click read more to see the pictures! 

This is a poem i got inspired by looking at a chair. To see the poem Click read more.

This is a narrative I wrote last year for my English class. Hope you like it! - Yasmin

Days, months, years had passed since it happened. Yet I still live in that very moment, or rather that, this moment, lives on in me, with me, off me. I would be mendacious if I said I had forgotten or if it had forgotten me. How could it, how could I, after all that we've been through. My safe, my saviour, my equal, yet it is the source of so, so much pain and anguish. 

Pulling my hand towards the door, was a force I had no power or authority over. A force that had left me appalled, bewildered... that had left me staring at the contents of a room I could not yet make sense of. It was unspoken of. What was I doing? My mind, submissive in character, was desperately ordering my body to obey the words that I had been told only too often: "Don't you ever dare walk past that door". But I did.

Stress. Pain. I had to relax. And so I found myself in the forest, where I stretched my arms and released it all. Poured the negative contents out of my brain, into the grass, which in turn, absorbed it all.
“I am free!” I yelled, laughing, almost maniacally. But my behaviour no longer mattered, for I was all alone. I had all of this to myself! Oh, how unbelievable it felt, how spending a few minutes in nature, among the trees and fruitful plants, how it made you feel so alive, so detached from the insane world of ongoing stress.
Except, it didn’t last forever. Because now, my reasons for running had changed.