Monday, October 22, 2012

I hate the smell.

My room smells like printmaking and my hands smell like oil based clay.
Maybe some day I'll get used to it.
Or maybe I won't.
Sculpting went a little something like this today...

In printmaking I keep to myself most of the time.
I'm usually the one in the upper right corner.
Today a girl came and sat behind me. 
She was working on her etching. 
She was the demonstrator. In other words the teacher used her etching to show the class how to do things. Lucky son of a gun.
She had some exposed edges on her copper that the acid would eat if they weren't covered. 
My teacher brought over some supplies to show the class how to do so.
She left for a minute and the class went back to there seats.
Me and this girl were looking at this red goop. 
It had some that leaked over the edge of the bottle. 
We looked at each other. 
"Do you know what that stuff is?" she asked
"Ha, no. Do you?"
She touched the outer edge. She got it all over her finger tips, she quickly looked for a place to whip them off. She ended out whipping them off on a piece of cardboard.
She looked back at me, I shrugged my shoulders, as if it was no biggy.

This Story is going somewhere I promise.

A few minutes later our teacher comes back and tells the class to gather around
She puts her gloves on, grabs the bottle of red goop and proceeds to tell us that it is EXTREMELY toxic.
So toxic in fact that it will even start to disintegrate your gloves on contact.
Do NOT get it on your skin under any circumstances.
I look up at the girl, she's looking at me with wide eyes.
While we're getting this 15 minute lecture, me and this girl are looking at each other with fear in our eyes,
trying to hold in our laughter, and the scare that has almost made us pee our pants.

Don't worry she survived.

1 comment:

Paul and Em said...

Awesome. You were probably glad it wasn't you.