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Located not too far from the Muggle Studies classroom is where you can find a space dedicated to all things related to arts and crafts. In this classroom, students such as yourself will be exposed to famous historical and modern Muggle and Wizard artists and strengthen your artistic abilities. Here numerous styles and techniques will be observed, and an array of projects will be produced and put on display for all to see.
When you enter the art classroom, you quickly realize that it is not set up like others in the castle. There are no desks in the vibrantly coloured room covered with paintings and other gizmos and gadgets aplenty. In the centre is a large table that is meant to serve as a universal workstation. Scattered around the room are smaller, individualized tables, easels, and shelves containing a number of books and any supplies your creative mind may need. Tucked in the back is a dark room for developing photographs. Everything in this room is for you to use, so long as you clean up after yourself.
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
Hogwarts was suffocating and Kinsay James Hated It Here™.
Well, she didn't hate all of it. Just most. And it wasn't all suffocating. Just most. But. But the parts that she did hate and the parts that were suffocating were just. They just. It was just. Overwhelming. And so sometimes, when it was the most overwhelming, she went to the only place she would miss after she'd finally be allowed to leave this castle forever (hopefully, next year): The Art Classroom. Except. Except she wasn't feeling particularly inspired today, so rather than come here to paint, she came with a pile of old clothes that she had thrifted over the summer (which she then dumped onto the large, central table) and her sewing kit (which she gently placed on the large, central table too).
Even if she didn't end up making anything today, she was hoping to come up with a vision for some of the pieces ... at least that. And there was a lot of fabric to work with - all varying colors, styles, and sizes.
But rather than begin sorting right away, she abandoned her pile of clothes, and went to grab some supplies instead. That's important. Just some paper and markers for now (and maybe some scissors for later). And let it be known, that Kinsay Cassandra James liked the special paper, the kind that was always tucked underneath rolls of parchment all the way at the bottom of the drawer; It always took some time to dig out and she liked to be gentle with it. Unlike some people who left a big mess behind and got all the papers crinkled and unuseable.
Sometimes she wished she could lock the room to keep others from using it too. Sharing it was hard.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Lemon!
The thing about this table, the big one that took up the centre of the room, was that it was very tempting to crawl under it and simply exist there for hours at a time. Or, at least, to allow his body to exist there, which was not exactly the same thing, but close enough.
Milo, having wandered into this room not entirely by accident (because his wanderings had been without intent) was at that moment lying beneath the big table. Flat on his back, staring upwards, palms down on the stone floor. Shoes still AWOL. Socks still odd, still purple and green, still striped, but a different pair today. Not until he heard rustling noises about the room did he suddenly come back to himself, but it took an extra moment to come to the conclusion that there was someone in here with him.
He could see the someone's feet, see, once he looked.
And, while the someone seemed to be occupied, Milo quietly scooted out from beneath his shelter and poked his head up, so that only the top half of his face was visible over the table. And he watched.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate!
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
No, it wasn't. Kinsay James had never (not even once) been tempted to crawl under the big table that took up the center of the room. Sometimes she was tempted to stand on it or to sprawl out over top of it and let her head dangle off the edge. But never to crawl underneath. And. And the floor wasn't as inviting as the table itself, so she hadn't thought to check underneath it for human activity. She was too busy to do so anyway. She was thinking about other, more important things.
Like how much paper she'd need.
She pulled out lots, just in case, and counted the stack quietly before turning back to-
She stopped, standing still to watch him right back. Blink. Blink. Blinkblinkblink. ".... Where'd you come from?"
And could he maybe leave because Kinsay was hoping to have this space all to herself. AND. She hadn't heard anyone come inside. So. This was creepy.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Lemon!
The someone's blinking immediately triggered a sequence of blinking from Milo himself. He squeezed his eyes shut tight for half a second, opened them, and added several more hard blinks, but the Feeling™ never went away for more than a moment. So he kept at it.
Where did he come from. There were many answers to that question, some of them literal, some figurative, some short term and long term and very long term. In the micro and macro sense. The spiritual sense. Maybe not the emotional sense, but Milo couldn't say for sure on that at this juncture.
Though he thought he might know the manner in which the someone was asking, he answered in a different way, while very much staying put. "Rose."
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate!
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
This was weird and Kinsay James did not like it one bit. She really didn't. Not the weird way he sat or the weird way he blinked or the-
Rose?
.....
That made no sense. And she was very much planning on pointing this out to him, when another, more pressing matter came to mind. "Were you sleeping?" That would explain why he was under the table, why she hadn't noticed his presence at first, and why he was doing all that blinking and answering questions weird. Naps did that to people. Kinsay would know. She took lots of them.
Except, could he nap somewhere else? Because some people came here for art!
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Lemon!
The someone's question was one Milo had to think about for a moment. At first, he thought he hadn't been sleeping, but then perhaps he had been and simply hadn't been entirely aware of it. He'd certainly been Elsewhere, but coming back from there had felt more like returning than awakening.
But the only fact he could be sure of was that he couldn't be sure at all.
"I don't know," Milo answered - eventually - and blinked some more. After another pause, he hooked his fingers over the edge of the table, slid himself right out the rest of the way, then clambered up to sit on top of it instead. He blinked at the paper in the someone's hands, and then at the pile of clothes on the table, before his eyes landed on the thing that was the sewing kit but that he did not yet recognise. Fingers twitching, Milo shuffled another couple of inches closer to investigate.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate!
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
Quote:
Originally Posted by Felixir
The someone's question was one Milo had to think about for a moment. At first, he thought he hadn't been sleeping, but then perhaps he had been and simply hadn't been entirely aware of it. He'd certainly been Elsewhere, but coming back from there had felt more like returning than awakening.
But the only fact he could be sure of was that he couldn't be sure at all.
"I don't know," Milo answered - eventually - and blinked some more. After another pause, he hooked his fingers over the edge of the table, slid himself right out the rest of the way, then clambered up to sit on top of it instead. He blinked at the paper in the someone's hands, and then at the pile of clothes on the table, before his eyes landed on the thing that was the sewing kit but that he did not yet recognise. Fingers twitching, Milo shuffled another couple of inches closer to investigate.
Actually, in asking the question, Kinsay realized that she didn't care whether or not he had been sleeping. What she did care about was having the art room to herself. So she'd obviously need to find a way to tell him that without being terribly rude. It wasn't in her nature. For the most part.
But she was growing impatient.
"Don't touch that." Her eyes widened as she reached forward to move the sewing kit away from him. "Don't you know it's impolite to stare at people's things?" No, that wasn't actually the case, but it was impolite to stare at people and their things were an extension of the people ... Kind of. But saying it this way supported her point so.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Lemon!
Milo showed no signs of heeding the command, in much the same way that he rarely heeded any instruction which impeded his curiosity, or which sought to channel a non-existent interest. When the thing that was the sewing kit but that he did not yet recognise was moved out of his reach, however, he made no attempt to pursue it.
"No it isn't." Impolite. Milo was fairly certain of this, as he'd been told time and time again what was and was not polite - occasionally by Rose, though she didn't ever reiterate the point like Papo Jake did, or Milo's previous teachers, or most of his tutors. He knew he didn't know everything about everything, but it was unlikely any of them had failed to point that out. "What is it?"
The fact that the someone had been so eager to stop him touching it was a very good reason to investigate more. Perhaps it was incriminating evidence; in that case, Milo was content to not touch it, lest he put himself in the frame.
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate!
doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
"Yes it is." Impolite. And even if it weren't, she spoke with enough conviction to convince herself that it was and that's what mattered at the end of the day. Confidence. Probably. Also, he looked young, which meant she ought to have the authority on what to deem polite and impolite. So. It all checked out at the end of the day.
But the question helped lower her guard just a little, liiiiiiiiittle bit. "A sewing kit," she replied matter-of-factly. Kinsay even opened it and tipped it just a biiiit to show its contents: spools of thread in various colors, a neatly kept assortment of sewing needles, needle threaders, and a tape measure.
See how polite she was being?
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Lemon!
Life was hard. But art always made Ash feel better. Which was why she was doing art, obviously.
Wearing her gray sneakers and a pretty summer dress that was completely unsuitable to the cold weather outside, Ash sat on the floor in the corner of the art room, painting. She was working on portraits right now. For her project. Painting faces was what she was best at, and it was very relaxing. She quietly hummed as she worked, absorbed in her own little world and feeling at peace.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by astrocat
Life was hard. But art always made Ash feel better. Which was why she was doing art, obviously.
Wearing her gray sneakers and a pretty summer dress that was completely unsuitable to the cold weather outside, Ash sat on the floor in the corner of the art room, painting. She was working on portraits right now. For her project. Painting faces was what she was best at, and it was very relaxing. She quietly hummed as she worked, absorbed in her own little world and feeling at peace.
Cooper had not been visible when she had entered the room for he was tucked away in the supply closet trying to look for come spare mountain canvas pieces that Olivia had tucked away in here during one of their art lessons that had inevitably gotten derailed. He was certainly not an artist unless it was behind a lens or in the dark room, but he had been inspired to flex his creativity a bit and the thing about abstract art was, well, messes tended to make for the best pieces.
So he had been encouraged. So he was pretending as he finally emerged with a canvas in hand and notices Ashley on the floor with her art. "Hey," he smiled at her while offering a little wave. "Hope you don't mind some company while you work. Dabbling a bit myself today." And he patted his bag with his hand, wherein was the other part to the piece he was going to work on.
__________________
When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
Cooper had not been visible when she had entered the room for he was tucked away in the supply closet trying to look for come spare mountain canvas pieces that Olivia had tucked away in here during one of their art lessons that had inevitably gotten derailed. He was certainly not an artist unless it was behind a lens or in the dark room, but he had been inspired to flex his creativity a bit and the thing about abstract art was, well, messes tended to make for the best pieces.
So he had been encouraged. So he was pretending as he finally emerged with a canvas in hand and notices Ashley on the floor with her art. "Hey," he smiled at her while offering a little wave. "Hope you don't mind some company while you work. Dabbling a bit myself today." And he patted his bag with his hand, wherein was the other part to the piece he was going to work on.
Ash did not appear to have heard Cooper at all. She had heard, but she was far too engrossed in her art to listen. So it was a good minute of her just accidentally ignoring him(continuing with the humming) until she distractedly looked up and noticed he was talking to her. "Hm? Oh, ummm, yeah sure. I don't mind.... Hey Cooper..." As long as he didn't kick her out. That would be mean and Ash would not go along with it.
She looked over at him from her spot in the corner. "What are you making?" Was it gonna be fun? Was it going to be messy? Could she see? Ash had always been fascinated by what other people chose to make, and the potential for a new perspective was enough to catch her attention for a while. It wasn't enough to make her get off the floor though. It was comfy down here. And she could see the door without the door seeing her.
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SPOILER!!: hi hello hi! :3
Quote:
Originally Posted by astrocat
Ash did not appear to have heard Cooper at all. She had heard, but she was far too engrossed in her art to listen. So it was a good minute of her just accidentally ignoring him(continuing with the humming) until she distractedly looked up and noticed he was talking to her. "Hm? Oh, ummm, yeah sure. I don't mind.... Hey Cooper..." As long as he didn't kick her out. That would be mean and Ash would not go along with it.
She looked over at him from her spot in the corner. "What are you making?" Was it gonna be fun? Was it going to be messy? Could she see? Ash had always been fascinated by what other people chose to make, and the potential for a new perspective was enough to catch her attention for a while. It wasn't enough to make her get off the floor though. It was comfy down here. And she could see the door without the door seeing her.
Not wanting to interrupt her process...and also not wanting to intrude even if the Art Room was a public space, Cooper shifted his weight between his feet as well as course of action. It really would be no big deal for him to take a few supplies with him and attempt his project elsewhere. On the other hand, staying here would be so much easier since all the resources were here and something unexpected may pop up and inspire him. So, thankfully, his own indecision was enough of a delay that he received a response from Ashley and he smiled appreciatively.
"Thanks," he offered, his smile widening into a grin. "I know artists each have their own process and ritual with creation...so didn't want to tread on yours." Taking his on canvas over to an empty easel, he set his bag on the stool beside him and pulled it open. One foot on the lower rest of his own stool and eyed the canvas. Maybe...he should paint it a color first?
"Hmm?" he hummed, distracted in his thoughts as he leaned back towards her but kept his gaze on the blank canvas. "Oh ...I'm not entirely sure yet," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair and ruffling it. "Just...sort of got a vision for a piece...sort of a collage." Which then drew his attention back to his bag, which he then leaned over towards and pulled a stack of papers from. "Tearing up these is step one."
Probably.
Or paint the canvas first?
__________________
When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
Not wanting to interrupt her process...and also not wanting to intrude even if the Art Room was a public space, Cooper shifted his weight between his feet as well as course of action. It really would be no big deal for him to take a few supplies with him and attempt his project elsewhere. On the other hand, staying here would be so much easier since all the resources were here and something unexpected may pop up and inspire him. So, thankfully, his own indecision was enough of a delay that he received a response from Ashley and he smiled appreciatively.
"Thanks," he offered, his smile widening into a grin. "I know artists each have their own process and ritual with creation...so didn't want to tread on yours." Taking his on canvas over to an empty easel, he set his bag on the stool beside him and pulled it open. One foot on the lower rest of his own stool and eyed the canvas. Maybe...he should paint it a color first?
"Hmm?" he hummed, distracted in his thoughts as he leaned back towards her but kept his gaze on the blank canvas. "Oh ...I'm not entirely sure yet," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair and ruffling it. "Just...sort of got a vision for a piece...sort of a collage." Which then drew his attention back to his bag, which he then leaned over towards and pulled a stack of papers from. "Tearing up these is step one."
Probably.
Or paint the canvas first?
"Just because an artist has their own rituals doesn't mean they can take a public space all to themself," Ash pointed out. It was the art room, not the Ashley-all-by-herself room. "That would be un-considerate." Yes, she knew un-considerate was not really a word. It was inconsiderate. But she felt like saying un-considerate. So. "You're putting a collage on a canvas? And the first step is to tear up those papers? Are you going to tear them up in a specific way? Are you looking for something?" Ash hadn't made many collages, so naturally she was curious about what Cooper was doing. She set down her project. "Can I paint you?" She didn't really need him to stand in front of her, but seeing him just gave her the idea to do it. "Please?" Because manners always helped, according to Alex. "Also, please may I watch you make your collage? Or not." Ash was really trying to not sound like an annoying younger sibling, but she was just really curious and hadn't felt interested in something in at least 2.5 weeks.
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Cooper smiled and chuckled softly, running his hand through his thick brown hair that was having an especially fwoofy kind of day. "Touché," he nodded with a little appreciative nod of the head. He just wished everyone shared that same view as Ashley. "Suppose it would be inconsiderate. I always found art and the creative process to be more enriching when it was shared." He couldn't quite keep a certain flush from tickling at his cheeks a bit as he recalled a certain art museum date and art class from over the summer. "But, in any case, thanks."
Still in a quiet debate, to paint or not to paint, he leaned back a bit on his stool and used his toes to hook behind the little foot rest poles so he could see around the vacant easels and other miscellaneous art supplies and acknowledge the younger Ravenclaw more easily. "Yeah, on this canvas," he chuckled with a nod, amused by her curiosity and really not thinking that what he was doing was all that interesting. "An experiment in creative expression, I suppose." Since there was no photographic element included this time and that was his comfort zone and sweet spot. "I'm just...going to tear them and see where the paper wants to go," he shrugged. It was a part of this whole just going with the flow aesthetic he had been trying to implement in his life. Something that was not exactly going well overall but everything was always a work in progress. "Just debating giving it a color wash first or...leaving it blank."
Maybe color...and for some reason he was feeling a purple base. Super watered down.
"Me?" he asked, glancing back over at her and away from his canvas once again. "Uh...sure...if you want to...I'm not much of a model but...I don't mind." Though there was a bit of a pause that was accompanied by a bit of an arched brow. "If you can do two things at once, I don't mind. Could use an actual artist's perspective on the mess I am sure to make," he added with a laugh. "You know where the bigger brushes are?" he asked while slipping off his stool and moving over towards one of the shelves for a cup and some acrylic paint.
__________________
When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
Cooper smiled and chuckled softly, running his hand through his thick brown hair that was having an especially fwoofy kind of day. "Touché," he nodded with a little appreciative nod of the head. He just wished everyone shared that same view as Ashley. "Suppose it would be inconsiderate. I always found art and the creative process to be more enriching when it was shared." He couldn't quite keep a certain flush from tickling at his cheeks a bit as he recalled a certain art museum date and art class from over the summer. "But, in any case, thanks."
Still in a quiet debate, to paint or not to paint, he leaned back a bit on his stool and used his toes to hook behind the little foot rest poles so he could see around the vacant easels and other miscellaneous art supplies and acknowledge the younger Ravenclaw more easily. "Yeah, on this canvas," he chuckled with a nod, amused by her curiosity and really not thinking that what he was doing was all that interesting. "An experiment in creative expression, I suppose." Since there was no photographic element included this time and that was his comfort zone and sweet spot. "I'm just...going to tear them and see where the paper wants to go," he shrugged. It was a part of this whole just going with the flow aesthetic he had been trying to implement in his life. Something that was not exactly going well overall but everything was always a work in progress. "Just debating giving it a color wash first or...leaving it blank."
Maybe color...and for some reason he was feeling a purple base. Super watered down.
"Me?" he asked, glancing back over at her and away from his canvas once again. "Uh...sure...if you want to...I'm not much of a model but...I don't mind." Though there was a bit of a pause that was accompanied by a bit of an arched brow. "If you can do two things at once, I don't mind. Could use an actual artist's perspective on the mess I am sure to make," he added with a laugh. "You know where the bigger brushes are?" he asked while slipping off his stool and moving over towards one of the shelves for a cup and some acrylic paint.
"I don't like being alone anyway."Alone was different than all by herself, of course. And Ash didn't really feel alone right now. But having Cooper there definitely made her feel less alone, and that was good.
Ash truthfully did not understand what he wanted to do. But she was all for creative expression, experimentation, and tearing things up, so she was a fan(purple was a good color too). "I'm not much of a model," Ash said with a touch of sarcasm. "Except for my fwoofy hair, not-meanness, and willingness to be painted." She grinned at him. Ash knew that modesty was important, but you should respect yourself too. Father taught her to respect herself. He did not teach her modesty(experience had). "Sure, I love giving people my opinion." (true.) Even her comfort zone was painting and sketch, not collages.
"The bigger brushes are over there. All the brushes are organized by size, so you're looking for the ones on the right. You should pick one with a red handle." Not for any particular reason, she just felt that 'red' was a good color for a collage brush. She gracefully rose to her feet and perched on a table, wanting a good view for whatever her portrait subject was going to do.
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He couldn't help but crack a soft smile at her comment. "Anytime you're feeling lonely, you can come find me," he offered, sincerely. "Or...in the event of next term when I am not at Hogwarts, write to me." At least he felt like her words were alluding to a certain loneliness - he couldn't imagine anyone truly yearning to feel alone and let that heaviness crush them. "I don't like being alone either."
His face felt a bit warm and his fingers could not stop running through that same fwoofy hair she had just drawn attention to and found himself a bit tongue tied over how to respond to that without sounding like some sort of forced and fake humbleness. "There is...a difference between an aesthetic and an attitude," he replied after a few moments, tripping over his words a little. "Being a good model is about more than just...looking handsome and sitting still..." trailing off a bit, Cooper straightened and smiles over at her with the first of his unfinished applications in hand, which he then began to tear up into shreds. "...and I lack...the attitude and confidence that a good model needs." None of it was said for pity or as a means of fishing for compliments, it was a simply factual assessment of his strengths and weaknesses.
Finishing up application number one, laying all the shreds into an empty bowl beside him, he kept moved on to the next and continued his shredding process. Even if this turned into a complete mess of an art project, this whole thing was rather therapeutic.
Following her indication, he was pretty sure that the brushes had moved since the last time he had been in here with Olivia. Or, maybe, she had been the one to move them for her own preferences...that would be rather on brand for her and the thought brought a smile to his face. "Thanks." Again. Finishing up tearing up the next set of applications, Cooper meandered his way over to the brushes and grabbed a couple in varying sizes before heading back to his work station where he then took a bit of the purple paint into a cup and conjured a bit of water from his wand. The seventh year then selected one of his brushes from the small collection he had gathered and wiggled its red handle in her direction. "So...Ashley...why portraits?"
__________________
When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
He couldn't help but crack a soft smile at her comment. "Anytime you're feeling lonely, you can come find me," he offered, sincerely. "Or...in the event of next term when I am not at Hogwarts, write to me." At least he felt like her words were alluding to a certain loneliness - he couldn't imagine anyone truly yearning to feel alone and let that heaviness crush them. "I don't like being alone either."
His face felt a bit warm and his fingers could not stop running through that same fwoofy hair she had just drawn attention to and found himself a bit tongue tied over how to respond to that without sounding like some sort of forced and fake humbleness. "There is...a difference between an aesthetic and an attitude," he replied after a few moments, tripping over his words a little. "Being a good model is about more than just...looking handsome and sitting still..." trailing off a bit, Cooper straightened and smiles over at her with the first of his unfinished applications in hand, which he then began to tear up into shreds. "...and I lack...the attitude and confidence that a good model needs." None of it was said for pity or as a means of fishing for compliments, it was a simply factual assessment of his strengths and weaknesses.
Finishing up application number one, laying all the shreds into an empty bowl beside him, he kept moved on to the next and continued his shredding process. Even if this turned into a complete mess of an art project, this whole thing was rather therapeutic.
Following her indication, he was pretty sure that the brushes had moved since the last time he had been in here with Olivia. Or, maybe, she had been the one to move them for her own preferences...that would be rather on brand for her and the thought brought a smile to his face. "Thanks." Again. Finishing up tearing up the next set of applications, Cooper meandered his way over to the brushes and grabbed a couple in varying sizes before heading back to his work station where he then took a bit of the purple paint into a cup and conjured a bit of water from his wand. The seventh year then selected one of his brushes from the small collection he had gathered and wiggled its red handle in her direction. "So...Ashley...why portraits?"
"Okay," Ash said, making a mental note to only find him at the right time of day and only when she wasn't feeling TOO lonely. Cause he didn't know what he was offering. If she felt too bad, she'd just... sit in the boathouse and paint. Or something. "I will come and find you when I want to talk to you even if I'm not that lonely."
"Mhm," Ash said, listening to Cooper talk about how he'd be a bad model. "So you're not confident and have the wrong attitude. Perfect..." She mixed her paints and stuff. "That's so interesting to capture." It was another facial expression to practice, another posture to paint. Great.
"I like making faces." And she liked painting them too. She wanted to see everyone's normal facial expressions, and their common facial expressions, and their infrequent ones. She wanted to see into people's souls the mundane way. "Also my father just taught me that way." He used to do a lot of portraits. Not anymore though. Not anymore.
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To all that, Cooper simply smiled back. Was there anything more than needed to be said on the matter anyway. He just hoped that she knew it was a sincere open invitation.
That lack of confidence he spoke of? Yes...about that...her hushed 'perfect' had him wondering whether or not the comment had been sarcasm and there was a flash of concern as to whether or not he had just become a disappointment. "Capturing just some average guy being average, you mean?" he chuckled, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside while he swirled his brush in his watered down acrylic and then began to brush the wash over his canvas. First from the top to the bottom in one fluid stroke and then bottom to top in a perfect parallel line to the first and right beside it. Cooper continued his up and down brush work until he had covered the entire canvas with his pale purple wash. Pursing his lips, he found himself a little ... something at how the wash had dripped off his brush and on to the canvas which then caused darker blotches here and there rather than one even color throughout.
"My dad taught me my passion too, photography," he nodded as he leaned back a bit to look at his canvas and opting to just throw a little caution to the wind and begin layering the shredded applications over it - horizontally at first...and he was being a little too methodical about it. "I like faces too...capturing them. Though...I prefer to capture those moments when my subject does not know that there is a lens on them...or really that anyone is watching them. Completely in their natural state." He did regular portraits too, of course, and had done a lot of the photography for Peter Pan, yearbook, and upon request took pictures of some of his mates who wanted head shots for one thing or another...but it always made him feel nervous. Nervous wasn't the right word...it was more...heavy. Heavy with a certain expectation?
It was difficult to word it all properly - though he had done so very eloquently. Once. With Florrie. Before...well..before he had gone and mucked all that up.
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To all that, Cooper simply smiled back. Was there anything more than needed to be said on the matter anyway. He just hoped that she knew it was a sincere open invitation.
That lack of confidence he spoke of? Yes...about that...her hushed 'perfect' had him wondering whether or not the comment had been sarcasm and there was a flash of concern as to whether or not he had just become a disappointment. "Capturing just some average guy being average, you mean?" he chuckled, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside while he swirled his brush in his watered down acrylic and then began to brush the wash over his canvas. First from the top to the bottom in one fluid stroke and then bottom to top in a perfect parallel line to the first and right beside it. Cooper continued his up and down brush work until he had covered the entire canvas with his pale purple wash. Pursing his lips, he found himself a little ... something at how the wash had dripped off his brush and on to the canvas which then caused darker blotches here and there rather than one even color throughout.
"My dad taught me my passion too, photography," he nodded as he leaned back a bit to look at his canvas and opting to just throw a little caution to the wind and begin layering the shredded applications over it - horizontally at first...and he was being a little too methodical about it. "I like faces too...capturing them. Though...I prefer to capture those moments when my subject does not know that there is a lens on them...or really that anyone is watching them. Completely in their natural state." He did regular portraits too, of course, and had done a lot of the photography for Peter Pan, yearbook, and upon request took pictures of some of his mates who wanted head shots for one thing or another...but it always made him feel nervous. Nervous wasn't the right word...it was more...heavy. Heavy with a certain expectation?
It was difficult to word it all properly - though he had done so very eloquently. Once. With Florrie. Before...well..before he had gone and mucked all that up.
"Exactly." Ash half-smiled. "I like portraits of reality." The truth was, the people here usually looked very sad in their portraits(it was Hogwarts), and they definitely never looked perfect(perfection did not exist). "I'm doing a personal project where I try to paint a lot of people in what they're feeling in the moment. And then I look for trends and stuff. In their expressions. And they all have dates, so I can compare it with whatever's going on at Hogwarts at that time." It was like a record. But she did it for other reasons too. "Mostly everyone just looks sad, but sometimes they don't." Sometimes they looked like they had won the lottery. Sometimes they looked murderous. Or contemplative! Or dead. Sometimes they had tiny little smiles and you could tell they wanted to laugh. It was fascinating. "I just like that you're a real person."
She watched and listened, noting that Cooper sounded like a wildlife photographer and was being very careful about his messy collage. "We learn a lot from our parents." What to do. What NOT to do. "'Capturing faces' is a good way to put it." It was preserving a tiny moment in time, almost like a... like a memory.
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