liberating art

I went sketching with Nigel tonight. They do long poses on Thursday nights and neither of us had done the long pose class before. I picked him up just after six. The weather this week has been phenomenal. I try to take in as many minutes in the sun as I can manage so I don't really mind that I have to park three blocks away from his apartment. The lilacs are in bloom right now and I could get drunk off of the sweet scent.

We get to the studio and sit in the same spots as last time. The model isn't the same. She has reddish-brown curly hair and is larger than the girl we had last time. She has an intricate tattoo covering most of her back. I think it was roses. I find her less interesting as a subject. I'm not sure why. I thought she would have more curves than the skinny girl and I love drawing the curves but I struggle to find them. Her breasts are large, lots of curves there, but the angle I see her at doesn't present them so well. She is laying on her back, looking up, as if she is resting under a tree. No bum. The leg closest to me is bent and I like how she has arched her foot. I start with her big toe and outline up to the top of her head.

Nigel focuses on drawing her head and face. He listens to his iPod while he works because he doesn't like the music they play in the studio. It's some kind of jazz stuff tonight. I don't really mind it. I sometimes find listening to my own music distracting from the task at hand.

I find myself searching for interesting shadows and lines but with little luck. She has milk-white skin that seems to reflect all the light. It baffles me. She should have curves but everything looks flat to me.

After the first break I decide to try a new spot to draw from. I see her more head on, a little to the left. I put my own headphones on and get to work. I keep trying different things to capture the roundness of her breasts so they don't just look like two eggs in a frying pan. I also discover a subtle shadow on her leg, a bit of a curve on the outside of her thigh. I didn't think it then but I wonder now if she is bothered by the shape of her thighs. She shouldn't be. At least not in the studio she shouldn't. I take some peeks at the work of the guy to my left. He's using conte. I try to mimic the shadows he's shaded in but I can't quite make them work in my drawing.

Briefly, I find myself wondering what she is thinking about. Sometimes her eyes are open, sometimes she closes them. Is she making a grocery list? Is she reflecting on her day? Doing homework? Missing someone? Sometimes I think she is looking at me and I wonder if she has noticed I am the only woman in the studio tonight. Does she notice the artists or does she shut us out completely? Sometimes she has to stretch her leg out or flex her hand. I notice her breathing deepening for a moment. Did she suddenly remember that she is naked in a room full of strangers?

Around nine, during a break, we decide to pack it up and head home. As I am putting away my easel I see Nigel talking to the model. He shows her the sketch of her face and she likes it. She also notices his new tattoos on the inside of his forearms. He explains that they are the apples from Apple Records,

"the Beatles' record label," he says.

"Yeah," she nods, seeming to be familiar with the reference. I'm impressed.

As I'm driving Nigel home he tells me thank you.

"I was feeling really stressed out this week, in fact, I almost didn't want to come tonight but I'm glad I did," he says. "It was relaxing."

I know exactly what he means. When I leave sketching (and it is extremely hard for me to leave) I feel refreshed. It's like a storm has just passed through and now everything is re-hydrated and cooled down.

"You get in there and you just go to work and you focus on the task at hand. You don't think about the outside world at all," Nigel says.

"It's like yoga," I say. Actually, it's like what I imagine yoga is supposed to leave you feeling like. I always enjoy the stretch I get from yoga and the time I get to practice strength and balance, but I don't think I ever leave the yoga studio feeling like I've ridden myself of all my cares and worries. In yoga you are supposed to empty your mind to allow time for yourself. Go ahead, try to empty your mind right now and just breathe. How long does your mind stay empty for? I never last very long. I end up forgetting to breathe or find thoughts pouring in while I frantically try to stop them or shoo them away. Because you are actually supposed to focus on your breath I often end up counting my breathes or keeping track of when I inhale and when I exhale. I try to picture my head just empty, but I can hear my inner voice instructing me to do all this, which I don't think is really allowed either. When I sketch I am focused on the picture I am creating. I don't think about work or money or food or boys. My mind mostly goes blank. The most amazing part is that even the inner critic checks out. I absolutely don't care if what I draw is a masterpiece or not. I'm just there to try, and I completely accept that I'm learning and slowly getting better. Sketching is a complete break from myself. It amazes me what I can do when I am able to just let go. Maybe that's what it feels like to be a nude model.