fandomhigh | Art, Thursday, Period Three

Hardison met the class back in the art room wearing a canvas smock that was already streaked with grayish-brown matter. "So, we been spendin' a lot of time paintin' an' such, but there's a lot more to art than just two-dimensions. Today, we're expandin' into the third dimension by workin' with clay!" He seemed very excited about this, yes. "Clay is an old art form an' very versatile, goin' back almost to the beginnin' of humanity, when we were usin' it to make cups, bowls, oil lamps, an other useful pottery. Because it's so old, there are plenty of ways to work with clay, so I encourage you to try a coupla different ways out."

He handed out smocks to everyone so they could protect their clothing, then brought them over to a table where there were several lumps of clay in various stages of completion. "So, there are multiple ways of workin' clay, from handworkin' where you make basic pinch pots to coiled pots to slab pots." With each type of pot he mentioned, Hardison took a few moments to show the students the basic steps. "Over here, we got a few pottery wheels where you can attempt to throw a pot." He nearly made a joke about no reenacting the scene from Haunt and realized that it was possible none of the students would get it.

Oh god, he was getting old.

"Now, some important tips. Keep some water handy, cause water will help loosen your clay. If you make a mistake, a little bit of water will help smooth it down. Too much water, though, an' your clay can liquify, so be sparin'. Also, you might wanna beat on your clay a little bit to help loosen it up an' make it more malleable--think like a baker with bread dough. An' lastly, when you're cleanin' up, don't let any clay go down the sink. It ain't water soluable, so if too much goes down the drain, the pipes'll clog an' I don't need Principal Winchester comin' after me for bustin' the schools plumbin'."

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"I'm seein' the flaw in that plan, yeah," Hardison said with a nod. "So, lemme tell you somethin' about teenagers. Most've 'em are always hungry. You ever have food that's, y'know, edible, if you drop it off in a common room, someone'll probably eat it an' be grateful."

Or dispose of it properly. Either way, win/win.

"...What happened to that bread then?"

Since the duck hadn't eat it.

"It went very, very hard," Peridot sighed. "By the time Lucille said it wasn't a duck unless it laid eggs and I thought to turn it into a toaster, the bread had taken on considerably less breadlike properties."

Which was a shame. She hadn't realized food would do that.

"Ah." Hardison said. "Well, it seems like you've come a long way since then," he said. "Learned a lot."

"I've learned that only half the duck population lays eggs anyway," Peridot offered. "And that what Lucille says doesn't matter much."

Peridot had learned the definition of 'bully' because of her. So.

"I also learned that I like ducks."

Edited 2018-01-26 23:33 (UTC)

Art, Thursday, Period Three

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