My Life as a Nude Art Model (Dada I) - Part 2

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Having turned my application early on a Tuesday afternoon, I went back to my business. I wasn't sure when they would call. Did they want to talk to the references? Would they tell me if I was accepted, or only if I was needed? The answer came in a message on my voice-mail.

They needed more for the next day! They had a sudden cancelation, and called me as a replacement. I didn't think it would be that fast! I was hoping I could have some "prep" time, so I could make sure I was comfortable with everything. Luckily, this ended up being the case: they had found another replacement, and I was slated for the next week.

The class was in the morning, so it would most likely be the first thing I did that day. I had asked the secretary about what to bring (a robe, if I suddenly needed to leave the room), and how long the poses were (20 min. maximum - but I must be prepared to return to poses). I was pretty well-prepared.

I didn't sleep much the night before the class. For the entire week, my friends had been pushing small doubts in my mind; possible "Doomsday" scenarios. Perhaps I should go back to a reclusive, income-less life. I move harspichords, why do I need to do anything else?

My dignity/face ended up winning out; I certainly wouldn't want to cancel at the last second. Still, lingering doubts, although fading away with the sun, still remained in my head. They were there when I walked down to the workshop. My timing got me there 20 minutes early (I always miscalculate distance), so I sat down and read a brochure. Doubts in my head. With about 7 minutes to go (you're supposed to be in the classroom 5 minutes before), I go change into my robe. I walk by an exit. "This is the last chance." I tell myself. But I'm also determined to try something new.

I meet the teacher, a woman in her late 20's. She has a wedding ring, and tells me she wants to start with short poses, about 2-3 minutes. Unfortunately, I have to decide them (I had known about this up-front, and I had promised myself I would figure out some poses beforehand, but procrastination beat me to it). There's a tall podium in front of several easels. Then the students walk in.

There are three today: two men, and one women. They are all retired, and seem really nice. They say hi, and pull out paper and charcoal.

I get on the podium, and take off my robe...then nothing. Everyone continues what they're doing, adjusting their easels, chatting with one another. I stretch my arms and legs, because 20 minute poses doeesn't seem like it would be fun if there was tension.

Over the course of three hours, I did many different poses. I was given two breaks, when I put the robe on and talked with the students and teacher. They found it neat that I was a musician, and a guy even mentioned the movie Brassed Off ("It's a Bloody Euphonium!"). The experience overall was very interesting; I found my self-esteem had improved (I overheard the woman tell the teacher "He's such a good model."), and I was able to work through music in my head (which is amazing if you aren't allowed to move your fingers). After the class, I picked up my money, and headed back to school.


Finding that I enjoyed modeling (provided it was drawing, not photography), I figured I should work to improve my body; not in a plastic-surgery-kind-of-way, but more along the lines of taking care of my skin, eating healthy food, exercising, and having a peace of mind. In an environment of immense self-criticism, perhaps contributing to art could be the greatest serenity.

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