musings and observations

Another full day at the nearest college. I hadn't met this tutor before and he'd phoned in saying he'd be late, so one of the others started off the class with some ten minute short poses for their sketch book. Meaning that I met this slim young chap in rather unusual circumstances, standing naked in front of his slightly embarrassed class of mixed adolescents. I think we both coped admirably, most professional of us. Later he told me he was late because he'd witnessed a major pile-up on the drive to work and had stopped to administer first aid and give a witness statement.
So after this dramatic start the rest of the day withered away into boredom. A half-hour standing pose challenged my muscle control a little, not aided by the stuffiness of the room and my rather late night, which meant I was trying not to fall asleep on my feet as the time went on. This was followed by a sitting pose until the end of the morning session, with a five minute break every half hour. Humdrum stuff, just hard on the muscles.
In the lunch-break he accompanied me to the personnel office where I handed in the first lot of forms (applying for the job I was already doing), realised I had forgotten my photo ID, and picked up the new form - how to get paid. I went back to the Art building for lunch and filled it in, followed by some musing...
I'd forgotten how much I like being in places where people learn - colleges, universities. Even schools I suppose. People learning fires me up, in a slightly different way to people creating, but roughly similar. At the next table a woman is doing her homework, consulting a Spanish/English dictionary. Lecturers breeze in and out in their moments free from responsibility and (useful) stress. Students chatter in groups and discover themselves anew - a lifelong journey indeed. And I am here too - neither one nor the other, privileged observer who is here to be observed.
Did the C19th anthropologists ever wonder how much their studied tribes learnt about an alien culture? Observer and observed are not always separate. All human interaction is a two-way flow.
The afternoon session was with an exclusively female class. The tutor told me they were very relieved to have a female model this week. They'd found it difficult to be faced with a naked wrinkly old man. The format was exactly the same as the morning session though, and equally as boring and taxing for me. Never mind. I might get paid soon.
Thursday dawned with very thick mist and a golden sunshine trying to break through. I had to find a new venue so left very early and joined the ghostly lines of vehicles snaking their way across the Levels. Turning off towards the village I stopped for a while by a bridge to observe swans and the multitude of spider webs glistening with water drops. Birds sang continuously and the water roared over a weir. I got out my diary with the scribbled directions. As I continued on my way it became apparent that I'd taken the wrong turning towards the village, and was in fact approaching from the opposite direction, but after some confusion I did enjoy the drive and the discoveries, and was still early enough to read an article or two in my new writing magazine.
The group and their tutor were like old friends already, they'd simply moved venue to a smaller,warmer and more modern hall. They are having an exhibition together soon and are going to send me an invite for the private view, which I'm already quite excited about. I might even see some drawings or paintings of myself exhibited, properly, on a wall, for all to see... success of a sort, I suppose.

Avoidance techniques

It's Sunday morning and I'm avoiding writing my novel again. Thought I'd better catch up on last week's work, Easter hols have started now so no new posts for a fortnight after this.
I was totally knackered after my Barcelona weekend, could sleep for England, only just fully recovered now. Comes of being middle-aged I suppose!
I'm away visiting family over Easter, then onto a friend on Exmoor to hear about her travel adventures, and finally a writing weekend in London. Scary. I've not been to the big smoke for many a year, being a country girl myself...
I have work bookings all through April and May, but nothing in June so far. The college work is tailing off now, so it's down to a few private groups. I could do with an artist booking me up for several sessions, or some more proofreading work, or even getting paid to do summer festivals. I usually get a performer's ticket to two or three, with a community choir, but I haven't worked as 'crew' for many a year.
Anyway, back to the modelling work. On Thursday I was back at the college with the usual group, but a different tutor. I'll call him earrings man. The talkative tutor was there part of the time to help him out on his first session teaching this group - it was a bit of a shambles to start with. There were 14 students in the room, and not enough easels or drawing boards. Mr earrings wasn't quite sure what to do with me either. Finally they were all set up with lines of sight and charcoal and chalk and paper and masking tape, and I was posed on the edge of a table with my legs at an angle resting on a bench - and that was it for an hour and a half. Earrings man gave individual help where required, the talkative tutor dropped in and out to keep an eye on proceedings, and I just got colder and stiffer as usual.
After the session earrings man asked me if they were always this rowdy. I told him they were better behaved today than most weeks. At least there was no rubber-chucking or charcoal face-painting this session.
Friday was rainy. I drove over in drizzle and as expected, was asked for same pose as the day before. Talkative tutor seems to run out of imagination by Fridays. I varied it a bit by sitting with my knees at the opposite angle - for another hour and a half, with one stretch. There were six students today, it was their last session with me and they were basically left to their own devices. One used a fineline pen, three used charcoal and chalk, and two were painting. When I checked out the results at break time the paintings were the most interesting, but the least anatomically correct.
Gazing out of the window again, I watched a shower of silver drops falling by the window, perhaps a squirrel passing on a branch overhead. Later the sun came out and multicoloured drops winked at me from every branch. A bluetit perched momentarily on a twig by the window. The two squirrels passed by again, accompanied by a rather worried-looking male blackbird.
I mused on the nature of beauty, and the strange propensity of this furless primate to appreciate it, and to want to create it. Wandering on in my thoughts to creativity in general, I decided that one day I'd like to write poetry in Spanish. I'm not sure if that'll be before or after I take an Art Foundation course and study music composition.
Talkative tutor suggested either the same pose or something 'wild and interesting' for after the break - so of course I opted for the latter. I opened out the grubby mattress, laid my robe over it and tried out a few of my scrunched-up supine poses. 'Yes!' declared the eccentric painter. Oh dear, I thought, I'm going to regret this arm flung over my head. Never mind.
Forty-five minutes went quite fast with my eyes closed, and the tutor remarked that these were much better than their earlier efforts, probably because the odd angles and unusual viewpoints made them really look.
I had a chat with the eccentric painter after the session, about my desire to paint and the advantages of working on hardboard rather than canvas (mainly cost - £1 as opposed to £20). He said he'd like to do lots more Life Drawing - nice to have a fan - and I told him I was just off to check at admin when they might want me for next term.
Amid the usual chaos we managed to sort out some dates for me and I filled in new forms (as I'd forgotten to bring mine) so as to get them in before the Easter break. Just enough time left for a bowl of thick leek and potato soup at the canteen before the afternoon's photography session.
One of the girls wanted to do some big paintings for her end of term project, and was interested in bodies and body parts. I think. So she'd brought a digital camera to capture lots of different poses from different angles. I dutifully curled up foetally, stretched out limbs, twisted back and shoulders to her requirements against a backdrop of black sugar paper, with the lights angled by an attentive tutor. I gave thanks for my previous yoga experience, and decided I'd like to come to their end of year show.
'Oh yes,' said the tutor.'You'll be much in evidence.'
Better not bring the kids then.

So, back to the novel. I promised myself and my appointed slave-driver that I'd do another thousand words by the end of today. Bugger. I really do go to great lengths to avoid writing. Perhaps I should see it as an enjoyable and self-indulgent pastime resorted to in private... I'm sure I'd get far more done.