The gray matter once began as a heavy, solid lump, wrapped in plastic that perfectly fit its large square body. It has been used and used over and over and over again, through weeks, months and years. Its life will never end. It will simply blend into another's. The merging of its infinitesimal scraps will keep reviving its life. Although there were many bits and pieces scraped and cut off, one large piece will remain. It came from the earth and will grow into the piece of art I attempt to make it. It will have small details and giant accents added to it, over the course of more than a month. I'll flaten it, cut it, smash it, crush it, destroy it until it is what I want it to be. That is its purpose. To be molded into whatever someone else will decide out of whimsey. I'll disect it. Construct and deconstruct it. Drown it and dry it. Caress it softly and scrape away at it harshly. It will know nothing of what it was or will be. Its origins were merely a story. Its eventual permanent state is the reality.
After I assemble each puzzle piece, it will tell a story. It will tell of the hours finding the right tools and techniques to get the carvings clean; Of all the sketching and erasing involved in just the planning stage; Of the hours spent after school sitting in a chair, hunched over, not looking up until I realize the time; Of the tardies I recieved in exchange for the extra five minutes I needed to clean up. It won't show the worries of the deadline, or the temptation to scrap the whole thing and start over. It won't show the joy and satisfaction that comes with seeing the result of one's hard work. Its final form will tell a life's story, but the first lump's absence of tampering tells more.
After it bakes in thousand degree heat, it will never be formed into anything else. It has reached its almost permanent state of being. Then it will be covered in a mixture of water and raw materials; Silica, aluminum oxide, and other words i'd have to look up on google. It can be dipped, brushed, sprayed, dripped on. Any way of getting the liquid on. It way not be a liquid even. It could come in other forms, like pencil, paste, and definitely others I'm not aware of. After the fully formed lump's second visit to the thousand degree oven, in will have almost a glass coating. It will be protected and stuck the way it is forever. It may be cracked, broken, or shattered, but it will never be recycled and re-born the way it used to be.
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Making the Ordinary Extraordinary
RandomThis is an assignment from my creative writing class. The assignment was to write about an inanimate object and make it extraordinary.
