Post by Alexis Yearling on Nov 6, 2024 12:06:33 GMT -5
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[attr="class","doveface_postb"] 
"Two Crazy Aunts". It was Lex's third time attending the bi-monthly workshop. The first time he'd shown up, he hadn't known what to expect. If he had... he might not have been brave enough to do so. [break][break]
As the name would suggest, the workshop was run by two "affectionately kooky" women. Sisters.... possibly twins... whose age Alexis couldn't rightly guess. Their long, silver hair, today, was fashioned in matching braids, they wore patchwork overalls splattered by paint (both fresh and old), and they smelled of patchouli oil and sandalwood. Something in their bright, hazel eyes gleamed when they clocked Alexis for his third visit, and something in their entire being reminded him very much of his own grandmother; scarily perceptive and somewhat conniving. [break][break]
The workshop was held partly indoors and partly outdoors. In a large garage/shop area on the women's personal property, only a couple of blocks from his grandmother's house. Picnic tables and an abundance of chairs were brought into the front yard for the occasion. It was less of an "official" sort of meeting (that one would find on a website or in a local newspaper), but something a little more community-based. Advertised by flyers, by a sign in the women's yard, or by simple word of mouth. Most of the attendees (roughly between three and four dozen people, ranging from teens to elders), were neighbors or friends of people who'd gone once or twice and talked about it. Sometimes they were just curious strangers, who'd seen the gathering and been enticed to check it out. [break][break]
In any case, there was no posted admission fee or any sort of restriction. If there was space and a person stopped by and wanted to join — they were more than welcome. Even if they showed up midway through. In a lot of ways, it felt more like a large, familial gathering at your "crazy aunts"' house than anything else.[break][break]
When someone signed in at the beginning of the evening, they were handed a token (a small, lacquered piece of wood roughly the size of a half-dollar), which they were instructed to keep squirreled away and hidden from anyone else. Hand-painted on one side of the smooth ornament was a creature and, for each token handed out, a matching one was tossed into a (comically very large) hat. In a much smaller, normal-sized hat, each participant had to submit a note with at least three questions or quick challenges.[break][break]
Alexis hadn't known what to write the first time. This time, he'd been a little prepared.[break][break]
Throughout the course of the workshop, it was encouraged to ask roundabout questions about each other's animal tokens. Like a sneaky "Guess Who?" for whatever creature they hid somewhere on their person. At the conclusion of the evening (always hard to anticipate when that would be), one of the sisters would draw a token from the hat, announce the animal on its back and, whoever could first guess who held the matching chip would win the night's "secret prize" (usually something handcrafted by one of the Aunts and related to the day's activities).[break][break]
It was just a game. And obviously a means to encourage people to, not only socialize with others, but to socialize with plenty of others and to retain information about whoever they talked to.[break][break]
It seemed to be the crux of these workshops — the focus not only on crafty, creative tasks and skill-building, but also on... simply... connecting with people. While the two workshop women moseyed dutifully through their collective throng of DIY-ers, eyeing everyone's work and offering their encouragement, tips, and/or direction (when it was asked for), they also paused everyone's hobbying for the occasional "fun" distraction. [break][break]
They'd make them stand up and do exercises or games. Sometimes it was a quick and easy thing with a partner. Sometimes it was a whole thing — props were brought out and groups were made to be pit against one another. Other times, one of the women would simply pull a couple of the folded notes from the smaller hat and read a couple of the submitted questions or challenges (which could be answered or done by anyone and everyone willing).[break][break]
His first time, Alexis had thought the whole thing a little silly. Or... perhaps... a little too forcibly chipper and demanding — like the activities and "get to know me"s he associated with the few AA/NA meetings he'd attended in his life. But, by the end of that evening, he'd decided he'd actually... enjoyed the atmosphere. Admired the two women who ran the place. And he liked that... everyone else who attended the workshops... liked being there as well. It was refreshing. Even when it was a little too silly.[break][break]
The first workshop he'd attended had covered how to make jewelry from objects found on any ordinary nature walk. Stones, sticks, leaves, and even small pieces of litter and bottle caps. The only supplies that had been required in the announcement/flyer was "objects of interest found in your local park".[break][break]
The second workshop had been pottery and painting.[break][break]
Today's workshop was about upcycling old or damaged books. Lex had shown up with a good number of his grandparents' dusty collection and, after considering the many suggestions (making photo frames or albums, birdhouses, paper flowers and wreathes, storage boxes, etc.), he'd decided to try and fashion a couple of small planters.[break][break]
He sat cross-legged on the women's lawn, just outside of the garage and off the cracked, concrete driveway, his pile of books scattered in a half-circle around him and the number of tools he'd selected among them. Though the evenings were becoming crisper, it wasn't yet chill enough to be uncomfortable, and he'd shrugged on and off a light jacket through the couple of quick hours he'd already been there — put it on when the breeze kicked up and cut through the fabric of his shirt and then took it back off when it died again and he began to feel a little toasty. Chatter from inside the garage and from the people around him accompanied him as he worked, marking the cuts he wanted to make in the hardcover book he'd chosen.
[attr="class","doveface_lyricb"]if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone
"Two Crazy Aunts". It was Lex's third time attending the bi-monthly workshop. The first time he'd shown up, he hadn't known what to expect. If he had... he might not have been brave enough to do so. [break][break]
As the name would suggest, the workshop was run by two "affectionately kooky" women. Sisters.... possibly twins... whose age Alexis couldn't rightly guess. Their long, silver hair, today, was fashioned in matching braids, they wore patchwork overalls splattered by paint (both fresh and old), and they smelled of patchouli oil and sandalwood. Something in their bright, hazel eyes gleamed when they clocked Alexis for his third visit, and something in their entire being reminded him very much of his own grandmother; scarily perceptive and somewhat conniving. [break][break]
The workshop was held partly indoors and partly outdoors. In a large garage/shop area on the women's personal property, only a couple of blocks from his grandmother's house. Picnic tables and an abundance of chairs were brought into the front yard for the occasion. It was less of an "official" sort of meeting (that one would find on a website or in a local newspaper), but something a little more community-based. Advertised by flyers, by a sign in the women's yard, or by simple word of mouth. Most of the attendees (roughly between three and four dozen people, ranging from teens to elders), were neighbors or friends of people who'd gone once or twice and talked about it. Sometimes they were just curious strangers, who'd seen the gathering and been enticed to check it out. [break][break]
In any case, there was no posted admission fee or any sort of restriction. If there was space and a person stopped by and wanted to join — they were more than welcome. Even if they showed up midway through. In a lot of ways, it felt more like a large, familial gathering at your "crazy aunts"' house than anything else.[break][break]
When someone signed in at the beginning of the evening, they were handed a token (a small, lacquered piece of wood roughly the size of a half-dollar), which they were instructed to keep squirreled away and hidden from anyone else. Hand-painted on one side of the smooth ornament was a creature and, for each token handed out, a matching one was tossed into a (comically very large) hat. In a much smaller, normal-sized hat, each participant had to submit a note with at least three questions or quick challenges.[break][break]
Alexis hadn't known what to write the first time. This time, he'd been a little prepared.[break][break]
Throughout the course of the workshop, it was encouraged to ask roundabout questions about each other's animal tokens. Like a sneaky "Guess Who?" for whatever creature they hid somewhere on their person. At the conclusion of the evening (always hard to anticipate when that would be), one of the sisters would draw a token from the hat, announce the animal on its back and, whoever could first guess who held the matching chip would win the night's "secret prize" (usually something handcrafted by one of the Aunts and related to the day's activities).[break][break]
It was just a game. And obviously a means to encourage people to, not only socialize with others, but to socialize with plenty of others and to retain information about whoever they talked to.[break][break]
It seemed to be the crux of these workshops — the focus not only on crafty, creative tasks and skill-building, but also on... simply... connecting with people. While the two workshop women moseyed dutifully through their collective throng of DIY-ers, eyeing everyone's work and offering their encouragement, tips, and/or direction (when it was asked for), they also paused everyone's hobbying for the occasional "fun" distraction. [break][break]
They'd make them stand up and do exercises or games. Sometimes it was a quick and easy thing with a partner. Sometimes it was a whole thing — props were brought out and groups were made to be pit against one another. Other times, one of the women would simply pull a couple of the folded notes from the smaller hat and read a couple of the submitted questions or challenges (which could be answered or done by anyone and everyone willing).[break][break]
His first time, Alexis had thought the whole thing a little silly. Or... perhaps... a little too forcibly chipper and demanding — like the activities and "get to know me"s he associated with the few AA/NA meetings he'd attended in his life. But, by the end of that evening, he'd decided he'd actually... enjoyed the atmosphere. Admired the two women who ran the place. And he liked that... everyone else who attended the workshops... liked being there as well. It was refreshing. Even when it was a little too silly.[break][break]
The first workshop he'd attended had covered how to make jewelry from objects found on any ordinary nature walk. Stones, sticks, leaves, and even small pieces of litter and bottle caps. The only supplies that had been required in the announcement/flyer was "objects of interest found in your local park".[break][break]
The second workshop had been pottery and painting.[break][break]
Today's workshop was about upcycling old or damaged books. Lex had shown up with a good number of his grandparents' dusty collection and, after considering the many suggestions (making photo frames or albums, birdhouses, paper flowers and wreathes, storage boxes, etc.), he'd decided to try and fashion a couple of small planters.[break][break]
He sat cross-legged on the women's lawn, just outside of the garage and off the cracked, concrete driveway, his pile of books scattered in a half-circle around him and the number of tools he'd selected among them. Though the evenings were becoming crisper, it wasn't yet chill enough to be uncomfortable, and he'd shrugged on and off a light jacket through the couple of quick hours he'd already been there — put it on when the breeze kicked up and cut through the fabric of his shirt and then took it back off when it died again and he began to feel a little toasty. Chatter from inside the garage and from the people around him accompanied him as he worked, marking the cuts he wanted to make in the hardcover book he'd chosen.
[attr="class","doveface_psb"]
Tag: @open [break]
Notes: Let me know if you have ideas/want a tag!
Tag: @open [break]
Notes: Let me know if you have ideas/want a tag!
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[newclass=.doveface_postb b]color:#4d799f;[/newclass]
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