The art room was set out a little more normally than last week. No coffee this time, because it really didn’t go very well with practical art. You could not imagine the number of times Angela had almost drunk dirty paint water
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Now this was something Fawn could really get into. She was glad she could focus on kneading the clay, feeling it squash up between her fingers and, if she wanted, she could mold it into something of her own design, something of her own making, like some god using the clay of the earth to create humanity. Would she be a kind god, making whatever she created beautiful and functional, appealing and useful? Or would she be cruel and mold something hideous and grotesque, useless and awkward and strange?
As her fingers worked, it seemed that her inclination was leaning toward a sort of pitcher, but that effort was quickly squashed when her mind caught up with her hands and realized all the attention she was giving to the long, narrow spout coming out from the base of the pitcher. Her face filling with red, she quickly pulverized her clay back into a shapeless mount and thought to herself bowls. Bowls were always good...
Cassie was carefully focused on the clay. It was never something she had worked with before, but she could see many ideas coming to front of her head to try with it.
Spencer had never told her about the part of sculpting that involved beating up clay. This was possibly because no one in their right mind would want Spencer anywhere near anything that required a kiln, but Sam decided it was because he knew she'd be awesome at it and pretended the clay was Spencer's head for a bit.
Re: Create and discuss!monkeymonkeydieMay 18 2012, 21:58:34 UTC
Bucky got so relaxed from kneading the clay that he just ended up curling up and falling asleep right on top of it. He never actually got around to sculpting anything.
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As her fingers worked, it seemed that her inclination was leaning toward a sort of pitcher, but that effort was quickly squashed when her mind caught up with her hands and realized all the attention she was giving to the long, narrow spout coming out from the base of the pitcher. Her face filling with red, she quickly pulverized her clay back into a shapeless mount and thought to herself bowls. Bowls were always good...
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What? It was theraputic!
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She chewed on her lip and gave her work of art a critical look. This matter manipulation thing was much easier with solar energy.
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When they've pinged in, obviously.
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