undiscoveredartist

When I went to Lansing Community College I had heard about the Life Drawing Class. The models were nude. Okay, so you flash back to every hilarious sitcom you have ever watched where there were people drawing nudes. It was a requirement though, so I signed up. The first day I walked into class I was nervous. There were a couple guys that I knew from another class and this did not help my anxiety. There they were chatting it up. Meanwhile, in front of the class was a sad blonde. She was wearing only a housecoat identifying her as the model. I had actually seen job postings on the wall for nude models at 5.35 an hour. Yikes. So much for the Playboy money. These people are expected to shed their clothes for such a meager pay. My heart goes out to them, and I admire them for their incredible courage. I could never do it. These people were not beautiful physically. I was told by many that they were often homeless people with nothing to lose.

The instructor introduced himself, and we all settled down with our pads of paper and charcoal. I don’t know what my silly mind was thinking would happen, but it sure didn’t go the way I thought it would. The model flung the robe off and began to bend over, her legs spread apart so that a certain area was right in the face of the two guys that were talking. The look on their face was priceless, their faces got red and they immediately stopped their talking.

I myself was about to die of laughter. In the most mature manner I could handle, I covered my mouth and exitted. I went to the girl’s room and got my laughter out of my system. I came back in a wiser woman and began to draw.

Despite this strange experience, I learned a great deal of things about the human anatomy and got the rare opportunity to draw hands, buttocks, feet and faces. I gave a somewhat cursory treatment to some areas as I knew my family would be reviewing my work. Drawing breasts did not bother me, I don’t think they are a big deal anyways. This could be because I am a woman of course.

In weeks, I became a seriously mature drawer of the human body and the class soon became my favorite. For some reason I never forgot the models. They included:

1. The sad blonde

2. The heavyset man with lavender underwear

3. The androgynous male who stared directly in my eyes as I drew him. We talked a lot. He liked my work.

4. The famous Butch, my instructor’s favorite model. He had long hair in a ponytail, had a good physique without being too ‘pretty” He was actually a bit rough around the edges with his goatee.

Since all of these models liked my work, I felt honored. I must say, I had more respect for the job that they were doing than what I was doing, I got to keep my clothes on.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS