Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Felting Classes

Or, "thank God it's over."

Actually, teaching the class wasn't that bad. I only ended up with 11 or so students (surprisingly, three guys in the class, whoa! That was a reality check.), which Thing 1 said was actually the most they've had in a LONG time. Cool.

I had a few kids that were really sharp and seemed to love the idea of felting, and what all could be done with it. A few were slow, and never really caught on. One of the kids had a really good eye for design, and a decent amount of talent when HE applied himself and didn't just laze through it. Yes, He.

Sammi, the kids had FITS over the colours -- you done GOOOOOD. They also had a blast when I walked through the beginning, showing them the absolutely raw just shorn and funky wool (they got a big kick out of sniffing it, lol), the different rovings (the girls got the giggles over the angora and all glared at Thing 1, who has an angora sweater), and how each stage affected the fibers. Even went through the "why we never use scissors" routine.

The regular teacher thanked me profusely. See, a month or two ago, she took a weekend class on felting, and apparently it was a Very Professional Class, and the methods they taught were so complicated, she lost some interest. Well, she's got her interest back in a big way, and thanked me for making it easy enough to follow. Hell, folks, I taught Thing 2 how to do it a few days ago, teens are no big deal.

And she wants me back. So do the kids.

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