The truth is I've known about resin pouring for a while. And I've been avoiding it like the plague because I'm pretty sure resin pouring is a chasm I am never going to be able to climb out of, and plus, it's a relatively pricey chasm. For years I've been the live-action character slo-mo running from cartoon Resin Demons as they swoop down on me trying to steal my soul. I put up a really good fight...
...Which ended when I signed up for classes offered at a craft store which shall remain nameless in order to protect the innocent. (And myself.) Said classes were allegedly for Metal Stamping and Wire Wrapping. However it quickly became apparent that this was a clownboat production: nothing was as it seemed, connections to reality were tenuous at best, and the whole event was fluid and ever-changing. Luckily I had dressed for just such an occasion:
It ended up that I was the only attendee for this particular set of classes (and therefore alone in my cat leggings, THANKS BECCA). I showed the instructor the tools that I had brought with me and some examples of what I have done in the past. She asked, "So you've done all of this already. Why on Earth are you in this class?" I pointed to a couple things on the syllabus, and she cleared up those topics in one sentence. Then she announced, "Want to pour resin??"
Through a swirling cloud of cartoon Resin Demons I glimpsed the face of the sweet elderly woman across the table from me, stringing beads onto a bracelet for her granddaughter. Her presence is the only thing that prevented me from shouting "FUCK YES I WANT TO POUR RESIN." TIE ME OFF AND HAND ME THE NEEDLE. I AM READY.
The instructor scampered out into the store to grab a resin kit and I knew my fate was sealed. I am doomed, friends. It's all over for me! Save yourselves!
The kit contains a small mold with three sections. Luckily I had brought along my trusty sack of coyote teeth (thanks again, ebay hillbillies!) which I used in two of the molds. They were not set by the time I got home, so I was able to find some things to fill the last mold. Here's what I ended up with:
(Please ignore the snap on my notebook that totally looks like a nipple.) The kit came with a really nifty teeny drill bit that cuts right into the resin, allowing me to wire on a bale, and also the word ART.
Gee, I wish I could tell you the exact resin kit I purchased, but Clownboat Craft Store claims they do not carry it. Despite the fact that I bought it from them. Ahoy!! [Edit: I found the packaging. It's Clownboat Craft Store's personal store brand. So....yeah.]
Friends, I have long fed my desire to pour resin by suspending things in soap. I have no more need for that crutch as I have already purchased more resin and more molds...and now watch helplessly as the cartoon Resin Demons lower me into their boiling cauldron. It is done. Amen.
LET THE GAMES BEGIN.
