Not so very long ago, I made the following statement: “voluntarily getting starkers in front of a dozen other people is not quite on my agenda”. Well Day 31 has seen me eat my words as I lent a hand (as well as my foot, leg, arm, torso, bum and my you-know-what) to a group of artists. Yes, I would be attending a Life Drawing class. As the model. Modesty, it was nice knowing you.
For my naked
challenge, I travelled all the way to Ealing Broadway (non-Londoners, this is far - from everywhere), to visit a cool
little organisation called OPEN Ealing, an arts centre specialising in “excellence,
inclusion and aspiration”. An honourable objective, even though it’s never been
my personal aspiration to get undressed for a bunch of strangers...
I arrived in the West London studio flustered and sweaty; after
running late in the unexpectedly warm weather, I was a hot mess.
Luckily, sweat patches aren't an issue in this particular line of work.
A complete novice to the class, I was oblivious to the protocol.
Do I strip off straight away and stand proud? Do I ignore what’s
about to take place and go make small-talk with the artists? Do I wait
awkwardly in the corner, every now and then undoing one button of my shirt,
then instantly regretting it? I opted for the latter and definitely received some slightly
concerned looks. Conveniently (and probably for the sake of petrified models
such as myself), there was some wine on offer. I dutifully downed three
glasses without coming up for breath. Dutch courage has never been more essential.
Finally the time came for the class to begin. The course
instructor, Jack, showed me a side-room to get changed (i.e. strip), and before
I knew it I was completely de-robed and striding towards the centre of the
room. I didn’t stop to think; I couldn’t. Any reflection at this point and I
would have run a mile. And so there I was: butt-naked, displaying my best
assets for a room full of serious artists. I WAS BRICKING IT. And, like
any red-blooded male would be, I was absolutely petrified of becoming excited. As I stood for my first neutral
pose there was one, unwavering thought ringing in my head: “Not now, Rich, any
time but now”.
15 minutes passed and I moved on to my next position,
thankfully without having stood-to -attention. This risk was now a highly unlikely
one, as my subsequent poses were more intricate: sitting, leaning, reclining
or perching. Nothing particularly extraordinary. Unless, of course, you can’t
move an inch for 30 minutes. In which case, even the slightest strain becomes an
agonising ache. Much to my surprise, I very quickly forgot all about my
vulnerable state of undress, as I was forced to concentrate on holding
positions with my shoulder painfully throbbing, my back awkwardly stretched or my
leg riddled with pins and needles. The best I could do was to think about
something unrelated and put all my energy into not moving. This is a difficult onus,
and I challenge anyone to do it without aching.
Eventually, my time in the spotlight was over. I speedily
put my clothes back on – though was worryingly getting used to the liberty of my
de-robed state – and then came the fun bit: looking at the artwork. Other than
one of the attendees who drew me as a big circle with disproportionate limbs
(it was only his second class, I was reassured), most of the work was really
quite complimentary. My already well-looked-after ego was sent sky-high and I couldn’t take my eyes off
how generous some of the artists had been, if you know what I mean... If you
don’t believe me check it out yourself:
Day 31: Strip off and get stuck in. TICK!
Peace & Love,
Rich xx
No comments:
Post a Comment