Dear reader,
When I can, I try to attend a weekly life drawing class in town. The studio is crowded and cluttered, but the people are friendly and the host spells my name correctly.
Listening to true crime podcasts and sketching the naked form in a room full of amateur artists is my ideal Wednesday night! My first class, a boy named Remy started chatting with me even though I had headphones on, the cultural signifier of Leave Me Alone. I said his name was like the rat from Ratatouille, and I had post-conversation regret immediately after. Do you ever feel like you’ve said too much in conversation, gave too much away? The next class Remy sat far far away from me, and we’re all better off for it.
During university, I attended life drawing sessions hosted by the McGill Visual Arts Society. My favourite model was a round elderly French woman who was just a vision to draw. I remember once for her final 20 minute pose she donned a red beret and held up a hula hoop, I was simply enamoured. Navigating through snow in the dead of winter towards campus would be worth it whenever she was the model.
I find the tall, lean, lanky models so boring. Is that not nice to say out loud? There was a model from the The Royal New Zealand Ballet and even though he had very creative poses, I found him almost too pretty. I was far more interested in the older man sitting next to me who worked in ink and sketched the model like he was Carravagio reincarnated and the model was his muse. His face was beautiful and his body looked like it was carved from marble, but I was so unenthused. I love fun shapes and swooping lines and dramatic shadows! There was model who looked like Santa’s free spirit patchouli loving cousin and he was the best! He held dynamic and interesting poses, and I thoroughly enjoyed sketching his rotund belly and stocky build on newsprint.
I often think I would be an excellent model. I’d be terrible at staying still but I’d be fun to draw!
I’d never pose as a life drawing model, I’m wholly uninterested in de-robing in front of a group of artists (amateur or not) in this lifetime. Roughly 80% of those who attend the sessions are scuzzy men and they do not deserve to see me, look at me, or in any way perceive me. That being said, I like imagining another universe where I pose and someone like me gets excited to draw my fun shapes, swooping lines, and dramatic shadows. Having a corporeal form and navigating the world as a young woman is not easy, but I like knowing I have a fun body to draw.
I’ve attended enough sessions, I’ve achieved regular status which I find very exciting. I know to arrive early to get a good seat, I know that even though the easels are enticing, I do not enjoy standing for two hours straight, and I know to sit far away from the man with long hair who likes to chat up the models and gift them his drawings (yuck). I know my place and it feels pretty nice.
I hope your Wednesday plans are just as nice, out in the world or not.
love,
Lina