Clay Foods

My apple, up close.

My apple from the bottom.

My apple from the top (sans stem),

My apple, far away.

I Create Original Art:
     There is nothing more original than foods people have been eating for thousands of years, let me tell you.  But, no, I think what I've come up with is pretty creative.  They're supposed to be parts of a salad, so someone is theoretically in the process of chopping them up, or generally making them into smaller, more edible parts.  I was going to make a small bowl of almonds, or something, as well as a knife and a cutting board, to make that idea more viable, but I didn't really have time.  Things that are supposed to be so simple take me forever.
      Again, my tablemates helped me out with logistics.  What would I do without them?  But, they're probably sick of me holding things up and being like 'Is this good?'  Their input really helped me out, though.  They made suggestions on things like the shape of the vegetables themselves, and the color I should paint them.  And they didn't even mind when I took up half the table with all of my stuff.
      But, I didn't see anyone else making ingredients of foods, just the finished project.  So, I'm pretty proud of my ingenuity. Or, maybe someone said something like it, and I've just forgotten.  I didn't steal the idea from anyone else, though, and if I did, it was unintentional.

The gnarly side of my carrot.

The shaved side of my carrot.

The top of my carrot (notice hole, so it doesn't explode)
and Aiden.

Carrot.  And, apple.

I Developed My Art Making Skills:
    Yes, yes I did.  I had never intensively worked with clay before, so this was all pretty new to me.  The last clay project I did was a 'sea globe' which was a ball into which I'd carved waves and stuff.  My mother still has it out on display, which isn't really a good idea in her eyes. It doesn't paint my fifth-grade art career in a good light (haha).  Anyhow, all I'm saying is that I walked into this project seriously deluded. I was like--how hard can it be?  After all, you can make the clay do whatever you want.  You just mold it and stuff, and sometimes put water on it, and then it turns out all pretty and such.
      Me of last month was so naïve.
     No, but, really.  I was aware of the exploding-in-kiln factor, so I decided to start off my apple by making two skinny bowls and them slip-scoring them together, because of course things like that work in real life.  It was horrific.  It was then suggested that I just make a clay orb, give it the details of an apple, and then hollow it out.  I was beyond impressed.  I didn't think I could make something like that.  And I knew the stem was going to break off. I shouldn't even have but one on there, but it was so cute, and it looked so nice . . . but I knew that it wasn't going to be permanent.
      The carrot wasn't so bad. I knew what I was in for.  It took me a while to conceptualize the correct length and thickness, but after bugging everyone within a three-foot radius, I think I got it right.  And, of course, I had to add the nicks onto it, and then I hated the nicks and had to do it over three times.
      The piece of lettuce, though.  Ohmygod.  Half of it broke off in the kiln, just if you stumble across a small pile of vaporized clay in there.  I had to make it so skinny and so big, and I was trying to make the center piece thicker--and that worked out, but I was also trying to make it bend--  It just wasn't working.  It just flopped however it wanted to.  It didn't rip as badly as I was expecting, but that was just about the only means of cooperation it provided. But, yeah. The actual leaf was really big and really skinny.  I didn't really think that that would make it out alive either.  I kept breaking pieces of my own thing off while painting, though, and that annoyed me.  Next time, I'll keep things a bit thicker, even if they are prone to blowing up when placed under the necessary large amounts of heat.

The back of the lettuce is actually perfectly flat.
Fun fact.

The back of the lettuce is actually a different color than
the front.  Fun fact.

The front side is very green.  Also, very yellow.

I Solve Problems:

   You have no idea how many problems I solved.  The brown wash was showing through on the lettuce, so I had to white wash it, too, but then it still showed through, so I had to put on, like, three different coats of green (and that's why the sides are two different colors--I couldn't pick it up and turn it around to compare the layers I was putting on).  The apple was horrific to begin with, and the carrot went from being a cob of corn to the world's longest string bean, to being a cob of corn again. It is amazing how little this 'food' actually looked like food for the first two weeks of its creation.    

    But, with a lot of water and the force application of a lot of patience, they came out alright.  Also, sponges were a life saver.  No one appreciates sponges enough.  They saved this project.  And all the other things in the clay box. They were so fun to play with, and should really have utilized them more, especially for the lettuce . . . I should have done the veins in clay instead of just painting them on.  Dang it!  Why didn't I think of that in in the first place?

      The final problem that I face is the cleaning of clothes worn while doing this project.  Also, washing my hair.  I still find bits of green paint in there, sometimes . . .