Somebody made a crane out of his/her subway wrapper and left it as public art smack in the middle of the sidewalk. We did all the things with it that one is supposed to do with public art -- we walked around it and viewed it from different angles, we considered its origins, and we talked about the artist and what might have been his/her vision. You have to know that the day is going to be filled with serendipitous creativity when you stumble upon a new installation in this manner.
Friend A is fully capable. Full stop. Period. I honestly think that she can do all things. I shouldn't attempt a list, but just a sampling: she can tune our zither by ear (which is a much bigger feat than some would acknowledge), she can cook/bake anything without a recipe (and everything, with the exception of one mediocre pumpkin granola is as good as, or better than anything I've ever ordered), her haikus have the proper spin following that seven-syllable line, her shrinky-dinks are quirky, and she hears me -- and my offspring. We all love her. So today, when I needed to run over to check something out I asked if it would make it feel like she was stepping out on her own -- in-schooled -- children if I brought my moppets along for her to do "some sort of project" with them. Who can you give such vague instruction to and feel totally confident that the outcome will be awesome? Precious few.
Felting. She showed them magnified wool fibers on the computer and explained that when wool gets wet those scale-like fibers open and if a bit of friction occurs those opened fibers tangle together and become felt. The students then chose the wool roving that they wanted to work with and began tearing it and making wispy little piles. With the help of warm soapy water they took those piles and made the felting process happen. The technique to make a ball takes a bit of finesse (i.e. don't squeeze, let it drop from hand to hand). Friend A/Teacher kept saying lovely things like: "Imagine there's a baby bird that you're cupping in your hands and you're gently transferring him from one hand to the other; you don't want him to fly away." I was like: "She said not to squeeze. Hello. She said not to squeeze." In the end, neither nurturing nor tough-love worked and one child ended up with something that looked like an S.O.S. pad rather than a ball. Again, people named Not-Me handle things like this beautifully. Did Friend A start ranting about listening to directions? She did not. She asked him what they should do with that. In the end, he did the obvious thing: he made it into a toupee.
Friend A knows somebody who bought a rather expensive toupee over a decade ago and apparently feels like that type of investment should last a life time... even if it no longer matches his fringe hair. Further, this high-end hairpiece has a suction cup -- important for when he wears it waterskiing. We might have looked up some pictures on The Facebook. Come on. Now that's called getting an education.
My daughter, who will focus for all her life on something artistic, especially if Friend A is at the helm, made her little ball with some embellishments (when we got home she used a Sharpie to add a face and turn it into an animal).
Friend A showed us the felt geodes that she and her kids made. You essentially felt a tiny ball and then continue to felt layers over the top, with the final, outer layer being grey or brown (rock-colored). You then crack the geode (by way of slicing with a sharp knife) and see all the layers inside. The kids are rather interested in investing in some wool roving and setting aside a chunk of time to make some geodes. Which is exactly what you hope happens after learning something new -- a desire to do more, to go further. Today, they made a tiny little marbled ball and sliced it open for an experiment.
Later, we were home and actually enjoying math. This happens when we read through the Life of Fred books. I don't know if these books will help with the state standardized tests someday, but they did prompt the creation of these elephants today:
And when we got to this page in the book:
Both kids instantaneously shouted: "Wool!" and triumphantly waved their little creations that both were still holding. Serendipity, you are a fun friend.
School was done. Judd the Red Chicken was working on his Police Department (an enormous box that we have taking up a goodly portion of our living room), and he created this "Wanted" sign:
"WANTED by NYCPD for busting open mail boxes and stealing letters. Bean Bust Wager [name]. Description: 5 feet 2 inches. Weighs about 191 and a half pounds. Wears a pinkish red wig otherwise is bald. Has 19 realtives who live in Iowa. Under August's FBI 10 most wanted list. Cation: He could be dangrous because of his prying and crowbar skills. You might need to know his favorite food are bananas. His favorite drink is diet Sprit. He is non church related too and his finger prints are arches. That's what you need to know. Also he got his wig at the berlin womans wig store. BE CAREFUL. If your a bounty hunter stay out of it."
I've said it before: no knowledge is ever wasted.
