screwyoumarvel (
screwyoumarvel) wrote in
fandomhigh2011-08-29 02:59 am
Entry tags:
Creative Arts, Monday, Period 2
Steve was standing at the front of the classroom today as the students arrived. He was dressed somewhat more casually than he usually was for teaching, in a blue t-shirt that already had paint smudged on it and an old pair of equally paint-smudged jeans. "Good morning, everyone," Steve said as soon as the clock ticked over to ten o'clock. If someone was late, that was not his problem. "I'm Steve Rogers, and I'm your teacher for Creative Arts this term. It's pretty straightforward, no hidden motives here, just, art. Making, not talking about. Don't expect a lot of lectures from this class. Do expect a lot of doing things, and more importantly, doing things that can ruin your clothes. We'll be using paint, ink, clay, glue, plaster...and other things. I've provided smocks," at this, he gestured to where they were hung along the wall, "but I strongly encourage you to wear something you don't mind getting messed up. Obviously that will vary from person to person, but just to give you an idea, normally to teach I'd wear a nice pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, but this is what I wear when I'm painting, so it's what I'll be wearing for this class.
"Now, that said," he said, his voice taking on a warning tone as he crossed his arms, "What's not allowed is making a mess on purpose. Later in the semester we might do a few projects where this rule will be suspended, but anyone caught deliberately damaging school property or, say, slinging paint or other art supplies at a fellow student will have to stay after class to clean anything they've messed up by hand whether they have a quicker way or not, and will receive detention. Got it? Good. Everyone should have a basket of supplies at their desk." In each basket were paints, containers to put the paints and some water in, and pads of paper.
"Today," Steve explained, "we're going to finger paint--yes, really, it's actually surprisingly fun--and introduce ourselves. Everyone tell the rest of the class your name, where you're from, what kind of art you like, and another interesting fact about yourself. As I said before, my name is Steve Rogers--that's Mr. Rogers to you all--and I'm from New York City. I like illustrations, and I once punched Hitler. Now it's someone else's turn." After a momentary pause, he added, "Oh, and Mr. Stark, please see me after class."
"Now, that said," he said, his voice taking on a warning tone as he crossed his arms, "What's not allowed is making a mess on purpose. Later in the semester we might do a few projects where this rule will be suspended, but anyone caught deliberately damaging school property or, say, slinging paint or other art supplies at a fellow student will have to stay after class to clean anything they've messed up by hand whether they have a quicker way or not, and will receive detention. Got it? Good. Everyone should have a basket of supplies at their desk." In each basket were paints, containers to put the paints and some water in, and pads of paper.
"Today," Steve explained, "we're going to finger paint--yes, really, it's actually surprisingly fun--and introduce ourselves. Everyone tell the rest of the class your name, where you're from, what kind of art you like, and another interesting fact about yourself. As I said before, my name is Steve Rogers--that's Mr. Rogers to you all--and I'm from New York City. I like illustrations, and I once punched Hitler. Now it's someone else's turn." After a momentary pause, he added, "Oh, and Mr. Stark, please see me after class."

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"I'm Nobody Owens," he said when it was his time to introduce himself, "from England, obviously. I haven't been exposed to a lot of art before this but sculpting has caught my eye several times. It's hard to imagine things like clay and plaster becoming beautiful figures or things."
And now he needed another interesting fact. The first thing he thought of was, "I've been kidnapped by ghouls before. One of them was called the Bishop of Bath and Wells."
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He thought he was being funny. Forgive him, Bod.
Please.
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Poor Bod, he didn't take offense but he still had no idea if Butters was serious or not.
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Bod shuddered a bit.
"If one of them had eaten me, I suppose they would have taken my name until they'd found someone else to eat."
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"Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray from Lima, Ohio," she began. "I like Impressionist art -- Degas and Renoir and all of that. And an interesting thing about me is that I was sorority co-chair last year."
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"I'm Kenzi, I like graphic novels-- the Dreamspinner series especially-- annnd I have a pet cat. At least for a week or so." Maybe longer. "He wears a fedora."
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"I don't know!" She leaned forward, eyes wide. "He just does! It's like a cat superpower!"
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"My name is Tony Stark," he said, looking at his smudged interpretation of the New York skyline. "I guess I'm interested in metal work." Just ask the girl he wooed with a welded together motherboard flower. "And one time I met Steve Jobs."
Neeeerd.
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"H-hey, everybody!" he said. "I'm Butters Stotch. I'm from South Park, Colorado, and I love all kinds of art, especially finger painting and model cars! And I've never punched Hitler, but I did fart on Eric Cartman once!"
Which was right about on the same level, after all.
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"I'm Annie Edison from Greendale, Colorado," she began. "And I'm open to art. I don't have a lot of experience with it, so I don't know what I like and what I don't yet. And, um... I make a really good bad cop!"
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"My name is George Lass, I'm from Seattle, and I really like that one painting that ... I don't know the name of it. It's a bunch of people in a diner and they're all just kind of sitting there, quietly, and there's something kind of muted about it, like they all have something in common but they don't know it. They think they're all alone and it's kind of hollow, somehow."
Okay, apparently art made her more expressive.
"I got hit by debris from the space station Mir."
Well, why the fuck not.
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The scale, beauty, majesty. She didn't really feel like she was doing a very good job of it, but that didn't stop her excited grin.
Oh, and then it was her turn to introduce herself!
"I'm Rapunzel," she declared brightly. "And I love to paint." Loved, loved, loved it. If her expression was anything to go by. "And, um, I have very long hair?"
Was it cheating to state the very, very, very obvious?
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Yes, it was still interesting to him.
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