A room of one's own on Magical Arts Room and Sports

Theodore Wolseithcrafte

December 23, 2013 2:17 PM

A room of one's own by Theodore Wolseithcrafte

There were many things Theodore liked about Christmas. He enjoyed the time spent with his family (even Ingrid and Jemima, now that he only had to see them for a fortnight. Not that he didn't love them dearly but they were by far the most excitable and loud members of the family and it tended to grate on him after a while). There was excellent food and a roaring fire that made you glad not to be outside. There were games of charades, and puzzles invented by his grandmother for them all. It was all very enjoyable but he did tend to feel like he needed a holiday after it all. Christmas Day itself was quiet, with just the things and people he liked, but the period around it tended to be a whirlwind of activity – of visiting and being visited by half-forgotten friends and family, of to-ing and fro-ing and chatting and... it was all a bit exhausting. Combined with that, his first evening back at school involved the returning feast, which was more of the same but with the added possibility that he might seriously dislike or have nothing in common with the people with whom he ended up conversing... (the good thing about his family and their controversial decisions was that all the people who came and went were usually, at the very least, in agreement with them, and often highly interesting people in their own right).

The first Saturday back at school, he wandered down to the MARS rooms. Where he wanted to be, more than anywhere, was the Magical Municipal Museum in Chicago. Specifically, in the casts room. He had never used the MARS rooms for this purpose before and stood, hesitating on the doorstep, wondering whether it could possibly live up to the room he knew so well – his favourite room of his favourite museum. As he entered, he found himself holding his breath, and letting it out steadily again as he was... transported. It was perfect in every detail. The room held plaster casts of ornate wizarding architecture and statuary from around the world, that was either still in situ, protected by magic, was too delicate to be on show or, in some sad cases, had been destroyed, these copies the only remaining records. There were pillars towering up to the ceiling, depicting ancient Greek magic, alchemical sciences now lost to wizarding kind and bare men concocting potions that no one even recognised the ingredients for any more. There were copies of the tombs of famous wizards and reliefs that had marked places of worship, many of their real life counterparts destroyed by the introduction of churches. Even though everything was a copy – here, he struggled to remind himself, a simulation of a copy – the majesty of it never failed to take his breath away. You could see the detail and craftsmanship that must have gone into the originals. You could sit for hours wondering about the scenes depicted, the lives they showed....

He could reach out and touch it. The thought suddenly occurred to him. Even though the museum held copies, you still weren't allowed to touch. Some were the only surviving record of that particular piece of work, and the process of making them was expensive and complicated. Even though they were copies, they were still precious artefacts in their own right and the damage of thousands of hands brushing over them every year was still too much to bear. But here, he could... couldn't he? He wondered how accurate the copy of the room was. Would the security portraits chastise him if he broke the rules? Or would they do as he wanted – was the room a faithful copy or was it his ideal illusion and would they simply fade out of it if he wanted them to? He hesitated, finding that he did not want that. Not right now. If he allowed himself to touch it, even if it was possible for him to make that possible, it destroyed the fantasy. At the moment, he could believe that he was really back in the museum, where he felt calm, contented and happy. He didn't want to break his own illusion by doing something that was utterly forbidden.

Taking a deep breath, he took half a step back, respecting the personal space of the objects he was so in awe of. And it was then he realised that something else had come to disrupt it anyway. Or rather, someone...

OOC – the room I invented was based on the cast room at the V&A London – my friend's favourite room.

13 Theodore Wolseithcrafte A room of one's own 270 Theodore Wolseithcrafte 1 5

Atlas Primred, Pecari

January 08, 2014 1:33 AM

And what a room it is! by Atlas Primred, Pecari

Atlas was having a slow day. It was hard adjusting back to Sonora after the hustle of the holidays. On days like these, where he didn’t have homework or Quidditch, he liked to practice his drawing. He sat at his desk in his room and got out his watercolor paper. He pulled out his blue 2H pencil, perfect softness for a watercolor. Although most people used quills at the school, it was necessary to use a soft pencil when it came to a watercolor. Ink may cause it to run, and Atlas only had one pad of watercolor paper with him.

He then began to lightly sketch the figure of a female ballerina. After he had gotten most of her body done, he pulled his hand away and studied his work. Although he had managed to draw what he wanted, something about her movements seemed more posed rather than poised. Drawing people in motion was a lot harder for him then the flowers he was used of drawing. Atlas sighed, he wasn’t satisfied at all. When it came to things that where important to him, he could be quite the perfectionist. Since he learned that Katie had begun ballet, he had been wanting to give her a painting of a ballerina, one that had much more life then the one he had just drawn. After some unsuccessful trial and error adjustments, he packed up his pencils and wand in a tin and started off for the fourth room in MARS. The past few times he had gone there he found the talking paintings to be quite useful in helping him improve. Perhaps they had some insight that could help him fix his drawing.

After he reached the room, Atlas opened the door expecting the same large room he had grown accustom to over the past few months. He was greatly surprised however, to find himself in a labyrinth of statues. “Woah” he said, a little louder than he intended. He looked around in awe at the room before him, peering around the statues to get a better look. He quickly found that he was not alone in the room. It was easy to pick out a real person in the room, mostly because he was the only one that wasn’t made of stone.

“Hey Theodore,” Atlas said a little awkwardly. “Um are you the one that made this room? Its really amazing” he continued while he walked over to where Theodore was standing. He was a little worried about talking to him, he felt like their last conversation during Charms class was somewhat uncomfortable. “Do you like art,” he asked curiously, perhaps there was something they had in common. “I draw and paint,” he said gesturing to the watercolor pad under his left arm. He opened his book to show Theodore, “Although, I think this one still needs some work.” He said in reference to his lightly sketched ballerina. He looked at one of the nearby statues. Even though they where frozen, they looked like they had so much energy, like they could start walking at any moment. Atlas looked back at his own work, “I think it needs more life,” he said. He quickly shut his book, placing it back under his arm. “So what is this place anyways?” he asked.

0 Atlas Primred, Pecari And what a room it is! 276 Atlas Primred, Pecari 0 5

Theodore Wolseithcrafte

January 11, 2014 6:26 PM

Thank you, I suppose by Theodore Wolseithcrafte

“Good day,” Theodore greeted the other boy with a small nod. Atlas was a bit of an oddity, in his mind, but then he was perfectly sure plenty of people thought the same about him. Theodore thought that this feeling might, perhaps unfairly, stem more from the appearance of Atlas' bear at their meeting in Charms class than really from the boy himself. He talked about things which Theodore didn't know and which were thus odd to him, like soccer, but they were perfectly normal to Atlas, so that didn't make him objectively odd. And he had provided reasonably interesting conversation. They had theorised a little about the spell they'd been working on. Indeed, Theodore had been prompted to go away and look into the question Atlas had put to him, which raised him in Theodore's estimations.

“I don't know that I can take that much credit,” he said when Atlas asked if he had made the room, “but it was...my idea for it to look this way, I suppose.” He knew that was really what Atlas meant and that perhaps the other boy would think he was being pedantic (which maybe he was but people always said that like it was a bad thing – there was nothing wrong with caring about detail) but he felt it opened up an interesting question. Was the room a reflection of the ability of a person's imagination, in which case they could be said to have contributed more greatly to its creation if they had provided lots of rich detail in their thoughts or was all the credit to be given to the enchantments? In his case, it was a moot point as he had not designed the room, simply copied and willed it.

“Though I didn't come up with the concept of the room or its contents,” he added, following this line of thought.

“Some,” he commented, when Atlas asked if he liked art. It was a rather broad question and he was sure everyone must love some form of art, and probably loathe or be indifferent to others in equal measures. How could you utterly fail to be stimulated by all that the creative world had to offer?

“I think you may be right,” he nodded, as Atlas gave a succinct summary of his own art work. “The proportions are good though,” he added, feeling that he should give the work some credit as his own ability in that field was non-existent.

“We are in the casts room of the Magical Municipal Museum of Chicago. Well, not actually, we're in a replica of it. A replica of a room of replicas,” he added with a wry smile, “So, are we really anywhere?

“Oh, I looked into the question you put to me in Charms, regarding mixing colours. There's no straight answer, as usual. I mean, you can use a colour change charm to say, turn something that was yellow in the first place blue, and that's unlikely to go green because the yellow is... an inherent feature of the object. Though if you're just starting out, it's possible you'll get muddied colours, which is why I suspect Professor Olivers gave us white targets. If you try to overlay several colour change charms... the effects really depend on you and your abilities. You might succeed, although you'd still be better off going back to the base colour for a more stable result. The colours might swirl together, a little like the pattern you achieved, or you might get the mixed results, such as yellow and blue making green.”

13 Theodore Wolseithcrafte Thank you, I suppose 270 Theodore Wolseithcrafte 0 5

Atlas Primred, Pecari

January 14, 2014 9:12 PM

You don't have to be modest, it is a great room! by Atlas Primred, Pecari

“Hmm…” Atlas said furrowing his brow and placing himself into a slight “thinker” position. He thought about Theodore’s question for a moment. If he didn’t know better he would have thought he was really at the Museum, so is he really here or not? It was an illusion, yet isn’t all art an illusion in some way? He looked around at the statues that filled the room, thinking pensively about how to answer.

“We are in both places.” Atlas replied confidently.” I mean…, I’ve never been to the Magical Municipal Museum, but if this really is a replica, and I didn’t know Sonora was on the outside,” he said gesturing to the fourth room door, “I probably would think I was in the Museum. It’s Schrödinger's cat, err.. Schrödinger's casts room,” Atlas said flashing Theodore a slightly awkward smile.

Atlas listened to Theodore’s explanation of the Multicorfors spell, and his theory. He smiled and chuckled a little. Although he was intrigued by his theory, he was really curious about Theodore. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to force you to look it up. I was wondering what you thought about it,” He said trying to convey that he was more interested in what Theodore thought than the book. “You get massive points for your hypothesis though, it is fascinating. Perhaps we should test it out in our next charms class?” He said with a smile.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you create this room? Do you do 3D art?” he asked curiously. He wondered why Theodore would go through all the trouble of making this particular room. Was it significant to him in some way? He thought he should probably word the question carefully. Better to be overly polite than to offend him.

0 Atlas Primred, Pecari You don't have to be modest, it is a great room! 276 Atlas Primred, Pecari 0 5

Theodore Wolseithcrafte

January 20, 2014 5:01 PM

But I didn't make it - it made itself by Theodore Wolseithcrafte

“I beg your pardon?” Theodore queried. Though that particular set of words was sometimes associated with a sharp intake of breath and the shocked, stern face of a parent or teacher (who had, in actual fact, heard and understood the remarks made perfectly well) this was not how Theodore spoke them. He intoned them with polite curiosity for, versed as he was in many things – theories of wandlore, chess strategies, which fork to use and so on – Muggle physics was not a branch of knowledge to which he had had any access. He could surmise from context that Atlas was making an allusion to the reality of them being in the room, and he was glad that his companion was putting some thought into it and not just shrugging the question off. He therefore wanted to properly understand his reply. “I'm not familiar with that,” he added.

“You didn't force me, and you have no need to apologise,” he explained, when Atlas turned their conversation to his research on the Multicorfors Charm. “I like to find out more about things and your question piqued my curiosity.” It felt a little disappointing to have to explain that looking something up could be an enjoyable activity and not a chore.

“I'm not sure it's a matter where opinion comes much into it... I mean, it was a question about facts, to which there would have been a right or wrong answer. If I told you what I thought, it would have just been a guess, which really wouldn't be very helpful,” he explained, curious that Atlas should have wanted him to do such a thing. He let the part about his hypothesis being interesting slide. It wasn't really his – it was that of the books in which he had looked – and thus he felt wrong that Atlas was giving him credit, like he'd come up with a unique and creative idea rather than just reading. But the other boy likely wasn't reading as much into the comment as he was and he didn't want to seem like he was contradicting him constantly.

“Yes, or perhaps when we have a revision session of some kind,” he nodded, in response to trying out the suggestion, as he thought they would quite likely be working on something different next Charms class.

“I'm from Chicago. This is my favourite room of my favourite museum,” he replied. That was why he had made it but, given Atlas' follow up question, it seemed he wanted to know why he liked it. Theodore pondered this for a moment. “It's hard to say why...” Why was anything anyone's favourite anything – colour, flavour, animal? You just... felt an affinity. But that was not a satisfactorily detailed answer. “I like that there is such a variety of cultures represented, so many different skills and so many different purposes.... Some pieces are decorative, some are religious, some funerary. It's not a room of just one thing.” It made him feel rather small. The sheer size of the central column, which was cut in half merely to fit in the room, did that physically, but it reminded you of how much time had passed, and how wide the world was. You, and your culture, were a tiny dot in both space and time. It was humbling to remember that, and he felt that perspective was somehow important to have. He kept this to himself though. He was perfectly happy to theorise and discuss details on a subject such as whether this room was real but he was more reluctant to offer up analyses which took a detailed look at him as a person.

13 Theodore Wolseithcrafte But I didn't make it - it made itself 270 Theodore Wolseithcrafte 0 5