Of course now that I have time to do things (since I don't work 60 hours a week every week anymore) I am freaking SICK. I don't know whether to blame the weather, my friend Brian (who really can't be blamed... I did invite him to taste my beer), or the lack of Slim Rite in my diet.
Slim Rite, you wonder? Well, Slim Rite is Kroger's brand of Slim Fast. I personally (if I were indeed trying to lose weight) would want to achieve this the correct way and not the quick way, but whatever. Anyway... Slim Rite is a lot cheaper and it tastes a lot better than Slim Fast. Slim Rite is also a lot cheaper and tastes a lot better than the nutritional beverage seen in every adult over the age of sixty's tight grip, Boost. Boost comes in small little plastic bottles (which are bad for the environment too) and come in packs of 6 for like, a million dollars. It really is like 8 or something seriously. Slim Rite on the other hand comes in 12 oz CANS and are like, 8 bucks for a 12 pack... So yeah. Anyway... That doesn't answer WHY I was drinking 2 to 3 cans of Slim Rite a day...
So I was drinking 2 to 3 cans of Slim Rite a day because #1 they're delicious. ESPECIALLY if you get the Creamy Milk Chocolate flavor. Don't get me wrong, Chocolate Royale is ok too, but ironically it does not have as rich a flavor as simple old Creamy Milk Chocolate. #2 they're also cheaper than Carnation Instant Breakfast (for the excuse to drink them in the morning)... #3 have you ever looked at the nutritional value of one of these 12 oz cans?! JUST IN ONE, ok, you have 35% of your Vitamins A, D, B1, B2, B3, B6, B12, Magnesium, Panthothenic Acid, Manganese, Chromium (not the kind that had Erin Brockovich's panties all in a twist), and Molybdenum. You get 50% of your Calcium, 20% of your dietary fiber and protein, 15% of your Iron and Zinc, 25% Vitamin K, and 30% of your Folic Acid. If all those things aren't great enough as it is, you ALSO get a whopping 100% of your Vitamin C! All within a 180 calorie tasty beverage.
#4 I have problems with my stomach and the amount it likes to contain at one time. For me to be able to get all those nutrients from EATING is like, IMPOSSIBLE. Not to mention before when I was working 60 hours a week I barely had time to eat during the day anyway. So then it was REALLY impossible. #5 I am skinny. Like, stupid skinny. I am in no way healthy though. Some people just assume if you're not fat then you must be healthy. Very common misconception. Absolutely faery story, myth, urban legend. I don't eat right. Even when I try it doesn't quite work out for me... I don't really work out or anything either. I mean, sure I weigh very little so I can do things like push ups etc, but it's not cause I'm strong. It's cause I'm just so light it isn't much work. I just can't gain weight. I've been the same size since like, freshman year of high school. SO anyway, #5 I'm skinny but unhealthy so I could use the nutrients. #6 Not only am I just generally unhealthy, I also get sick A LOT. BUT the entire time I was drinking these said drinks I showed no signs of cold, cough, sore throat, etc. SO! Coincidence? I think NOT. You can't exactly beat 300% of your vitamin C for keeping illness at bay...
In no way was I using the tasty beverages as a means to lose weight. I drank these in ADDITION to all the other food I ate. I did not replace meals with these. I actually would even drink them as my drink for my meal. Anyway, now that we have all that cleared up and no one thinks I'm a crazy little skinny girl who thinks she needs to lose weight....
Monday after I got home from work I was crazy tired. This really should have been a sign. But anyway. I went to sleep and slept all afternoon. Blogged the night away when I finally did wake up. Then slept all day on Tuesday. The times I DID wake up (and obviously decided to go back to sleep) my throat felt funny... not really sore, just like i needed to clear my throat. Then when I did get up I felt like someone had left a spigot dripping down my lungs, slowly filling them up.
Wednesday I got up, still feeling somewhat awful and went to work. It wasn't terrible. Not yet anyway. It was great fun (just as I expected). The Professor left half way through for some meeting and I was left in charge of the class. AND I found out I make a dollar fifty MORE an hour than origianally agreed upon! After class though was when it all started to go REALLY down hill.
Sunlight does not like me. On a regular ol' cloudless day it is too bright to live. Driving is not particularly safe on a sunny day as my eyes have an unnatural urge to close and stay that way. So on top of just feeling not very well and beginning to show signs of fever I also had to drive 45 minutes with my eyes squinted nearly to closing cause of the terrible sun. Squinting gives me a headache. By the time I made it home I was MISERABLE. I had a fever. I had chills. I had a headache. I had higher blood pressure than usual. I had a leaky faucet dripping in my lungs. And now my throat WAS sore. I took 2 Advil and slept all afternoon. Literally. from 3 to 10 I was out.
JD had gone to the store and bought me some soup. Cambell's Chunky Chicken Noodle, NOT the Healthy Choice version (which tastes like shit. Well, not literally I am assuming, but it's not very good), which was nice. After watching a little "TV" aka Netflix (which is awesome by the way. You can click instant play and watch nearly anything instantly through your Xbox without having to wait on it to come in the mail) more sleep ensued and then I slept all day today as well.
I'm trying home remedies and Apple Cider Vinegar and drinking lots of water and keeping away from sugar and dairy and getting as much rest as possible cause I'm trying my best to at least FEEL better (if not BE better) by tomorrow at noon--Naked coughing fits are not sexy in the slightest.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Natural Au Naturel
So is it a bad thing that you're an apparent natural at standing around in the altogether in front of a group of strangers? At the end of the 2 hour class, while gathering my things and going over paper work, the Professor himself couldn't believe this was my first time.
I get there early. Of course now worried about little things like stomach rumblings, having to wee, gasses leaking audibly from one's body... Typical public speaking worries that have haunted all of humanity since the dawn of civilization... Still the only willies I have though. I walk into the gallery and there's the Professor coming toward the door. He gives me the grand tour. The building is an old turn of the century store with two fronts--The gallery side and the studio side (in the very front anyway). Behind the gallery is what will end up being my dressing (or UN dressing...) room. behind the studio is another studio. It sort of goes like that back till the bathrooms and the stairway at the back of the building. Up the stairs are the photography and graphic design studios and the offices. The Professors office is just as messy as one would expect. He cleared me a seat on a holey arm chair and we discussed exactly how the next two hours would go.
As I feared yet was also a little relieved to hear, I'd be coming up with my own poses. That's about as much info as I got. We went back down stairs and he tried to figure out where my changing room would be... What I would wear during breaks and between rooms ("Oh... I wasn't thinking about it. I should have told you to bring a robe....They just always bring one so I wasn't thinking about telling you that..."). I had worn my red coat for this exact reason. I had a feeling I probably should have brought a robe... But as I really didn't have that much information about the whole deal, I just came prepared with my long glorious red jacket.
Two students had arrived now. They were hanging out in the gallery as we came to the door to the studio. One was a geeky college aged boy. One was a nifty middle aged woman eating a plate of Zaxby's. "Is this our model?" She asked.
"Yeah," The Professor replied. "This is Erica."
"You go girl!"
I just smiled and laughed and walked into the studio. The studio had a front wall of windows and a glass door, all of which had been covered with black curtains for today's class. The two side walls were exposed brick. The back wall was plaster. All of them were covered with art, same as the gallery. One particular painting was awesome. It was a pig sitting at a table with a human head with an apple in its mouth on a plate in front of him. On the pig's fork was a human hand. The room was utter perfection. No plinth. Just a few easels, stools, and lights circling a cream colored quilt on the floor.
The Professor turned up the heat and we stood there talking. Soon the students joined us. I don't recall their names now. I really liked the middle aged woman. Soon a middle aged man joined us as well. Questions were popping around everywhere. From me, To me, About me.... "So have you done this before?"
"Oh yeah, she's a pro," said The Professor.
I over exaggerated, "Oh yeah, I've done this LOOAAADDDDS of times..." I'm not sure if they caught my sarcasm.
It was getting hot now and more students were filing in. The class, I was told, was 10 students. Today it was 6 and apparently only one was missing. Only two males. The geek and the man. And the Professor of course. The rest were college aged girls and the woman. The girls didn't talk a whole lot to me at first. They were cordial and all. No jealousy as one might would imagine. I halfway expected a little. I was smaller than all of them, older, younger looking, AND had enough confidence to shed my clothing in front of a class of college kids and not show any nervousness at all... I'd probably be a little jealous if the role was reversed. Wishing I had the balls, wishing I was that comfortable in my own skin. But they didn't show any, even if they did feel it. They just sort of came in, got ready, kinda met me... That would change. Very quickly.
It was a little after twelve and we'd decided the missing girl had not been in any classes today so she must not be coming to this one. So the Professor walked over with me to the changing room, made sure the windows and what not were covered, and found me a chair to lay my clothes on. I laughed a little to myself while I took off my boots, shed my socks, and started shimmying out of blue jeans. Still not an ounce of nervousness. I was trying to figure out poses. All of them today would be standing. We'd be doing short quick positions first then one long pose. Poses are not easy to come up with. I throw my coat back on and walk barefoot back to the studio.
They're not quite ready yet. They're discussing the plan, what papers to use, what pencils to use, as I stand there against the wall with my coat pulled tightly around me. I'm burning up. BUT I do still have clothing on... So I figure I'll wait till the drawing begins to decide if I need the space heaters right beside me. "Okay, if everybody's ready, lets get started," the Professor says. Moment of truth. Still no butterflies. No anxiety. No nervousness. I step between the easels to my off white stage and drop the red off both shoulders in one fluid motion. I lay the sheath beside me and move myself into the center of the circle.
It was as natural a setting one could ever imagine for me, as though I was back in my native habitat. I stood there open, easy, motionless. The Professor walked around the room giving tips and pointers, telling them technique, making the students laugh, making me laugh. "She's a natual at this,"someone says. "Yeah. She's really good," from another. "Ok. New position." I moved. I shifted my weight. I lifted my arms above my head. I reached outward. I twisted my spine. I held onto my collar bone. I held my arm outward as though it was reaching for a lovers hand. "Wow," the Professor said. "We'll make this a short one!" He had originally said to me AND the class that the first poses would be roughly 30 seconds. His 30 seconds all last between 3 and 5 minutes.
Around the room the scratch of pencil and charcoal could be heard against news print. Everyone commented on how still I was. How they couldn't do it. The woman made a comment about her life would be easier if she just had her digital camera. I said I don't do nude photography, which brought laughs from the whole class. The girls opened up. They made fun of themselves, made fun of their art. Made comments like, "Ok, when you see this, DON'T get offended" or "Oh my god, I made your head like, SO fat!" I'd laugh along with them, sometimes commenting back, but never moving my body. Amazingly I never got an itch or the urge to sneeze... Yawning, though, I realized, tried to happen frequently. "You doing ok?" the Professor asked.
"Yeah, I'm doing fine."
And then a shot rang out! The middle aged man's easels had clips that startled us all! The girls to the right of me jumped. I was proud. Somehow I only managed a look of surprise and then laughter. Each time the man had to turn to a new sheet of paper the same thing. "Gunshot", Startled jumps and slight shrieks, then laughter.
Time for a break. I grab my jacket off the floor and wrap up in it. Everyone made a chain, walking around the room, comparing their work. I joined in. I wanted to see how I looked immortalized in art (that of course would be thrown away later except the geeky guy's). Some were good, some were great, some were... not so much. But in nearly all of them my boobs looked AWESOME. I, of course, commented on this. "My boobs look Amazing! I mean, I'm pretty ok with the rest of me but those could definitely be a little bigger" I say. Everyone laughs. I get told I'm wrong and that they really do look like that in real life and that they're cute. That everything about me is cute. I say "Yeah, CUTE. I notice you did not use nice and large and voluptuous to described them!" The Professor laughed at me.
Again the conversations start. Now more of them though--The girls have opened up too. More of them about me this time, rather than questions. Comments of "I could never hold still that long..." and "I don't see how you do it!" and "I love her coat!" Etc. It's like everything about me just amazed them. And in all honestly I really had not had a problem at all. Every once in a while I'd have to pause to figure out what pose I would do next, even though that was all I had thought about during the last pose. It was very hot now, though, so we turned off the heat. The lights themselves were like small fires and when we unplugged the heaters they got even brighter.
The geeky kid asked the Professor if I could turn toward him because so far he had only really gotten to draw one side of me. I'm SURE that was the ONLY reason he wanted a frontal view.
We started again. Pose after pose after pose. The professor was challenging them to draw in a fluid motion, to follow the weight line, to get the entire figure on the paper, to get the entire figure on the paper in under a minute. Practice was going to perfect this. Half the class was spent on these short poses. The other half of the class would be one long pose. Then they would start working on details, rather than just the figure. I could feel sweat on my sholders, my back, my ass, among other regions... My hands started to slide on my hips. I didn't really FEEL hot... And I knew if we did anything to lower the temperature that I would be cold... But now a hint of nervousness came in. Only because I could not wipe the sweat away. It started to feel like it was rolling down... I thought it'd be sort of embarassing for it to roll down and drip off my bum with everyone in the room's eyes focused only on me. Silliness I thought. It's hot. AND none of them are naked in front of a group of strangers... They would think nothing at all of me being sweaty.
Suddenly another startling sound. This time an absolutely abnoxious hot rod engine right outside the front windows. I may have even jumped this time. The geeky boy went to the window and opened the curtain and looked out. One of the girls was like, "You might not want to do that!" I hadn't even realized why that was a big deal (ya know... me standing there in my birthday suit and everything...) til then. "Yeah," I said. "I'm fine with doing this for the advancement of art and education but I'm sure the type of person driving a car that sounds like THAT is NOT someone I want fantasizing about me later" (which, of course, again brought laughter to the whole room).
Still they go on about how amazing I am. Still they pick on their mistakes. Still they make me laugh. Time for another break. Again I walk around the room. Their work gets better and better. Each pose nearly completely drawn on each of their papers now. No huge heads or huge feet or tiny hands. Everything nearly perfectly proportional. I end up sitting through this break, my bare bottom directly on the stool. The geeky kid comes over and joins in the conversation between me, The Professor, and the middle agers (both man AND woman). Apparently the man is an amazing painter. I add my input on websites and business cards and a little about the art scene in Athens. I fit right in with the group. We all talk like old friends, not as strangers. The break lasts a while this time. Everyone caught up in their conversations.
"You really haven't ever done this before," asked the woman.
"I really haven't."
"Well you're a natural. You're doing great!"
"Thanks! I just act like I know what I'm doing. You can get away with anything that way. I'm also really good at believing myself..."
The Professor announces we're about to get started on the long pose. The students ask for more short poses, more practice. The Professor doesn't grant them their wishes and I am glad. I was running out of ideas.
I pull my hair up for this pose, so the students can see my neckline and collar bones. I turn toward the wall so I'm not flashing flesh from the middle of my coat and try my best to pull my hair up in my usual little twist. It feels lumpy. Not to embarassment or anything, but I said it looked like crap. I was reassured it didn't by the middle aged woman. "I couldn't do that," she said. I'm still not sure if she meant she couldn't pull her hair up without a mirror or she couldn't stand naked in front of people. I step to the center of the circle again and shed my coat. "Nobody make fun of my hair! I know it looks awful" I say.
"Oh my god" said one of the girls who had been making me laugh all class. "It looks fine. Plus we would NEVER make fun of you for ANYTHING" (of course making me laugh again).
I decide to go with a position I had practiced often behind the doctor's back while standing in the patients room. I put my weight on the right foot, put my left wrist on my hip with my fingers pointed backwards and wrapped my right arm across my belly till I was holding my left wrist in my grip. The students had one minute to get my form on the paper. They did not succeed. The professor gave them one minute more. I'm not sure if they succeeded in that minute but either way they moved on to adding details. "Oh my goodness, when you see this you are going to hate me," the woman said.
"Keep drawing my boobs the way you have been and I'll love you for life!"
The Professor asked me a few times if I was ok. I, of course, was. I held this pose for around 20 minutes before he announced another break. By then my wrist was killing me. Silly silly me. I should have known not to do that, curl my wrist in and brace it against my waist... But I had. And we were going to have at LEAST another 10 minutes of holding it that way. I sat down and flexed it. Of course commenting on the fact that I was fine and the only thing bothering me was holding my wrist that way for so long. Again this amazed everyone.
We go again. This time I'd put my foot in the wrong place and kept having to shift it. I could feel the nails in the hardwood floors through the quilt and I had to place them perfectly in my arch or they got on my nerves. After I finally got that adjusted, and after some more laughs, before I knew it we were done. Everyone was disappointed they didn't have time to finish. I said I charged more for overtime and everyone laughed.
I put my coat back on and we made a train around the room again, looking at the end products. The girl who had said they'd never make fun of me had nearly every feature in her drawing, even the twist of my hair. Her's and the middle aged woman's were the best. Then I ended up back against the wall while everyone gathered their things. Everyone told me thank you and
gave me a round of applause and went on some more about how awesome I was and how they couldn't possibly hold that still for that long. Nearly everyone had gone when I made my way back across the hall to put my clothes back on. I felt elated. I had had a blast. I hadn't been nervous at all. Everyone in the class had great personalities and seemed to think I did as well! It was amazing. It wasn't far from what I expected, but I really didn't expect to go on and joke and laugh with everyone the whole time I was there.
I head up to the Professor's office. He comes in shortly after me. "So? How'd it go? You doing ok?"
"Yeah," I reply. "It was awesome! I had a lot of fun."
"You really hadn't ever done this before?"
"No..."
"You were great! I mean, really great."
"Like I said, I just tell myself I know what I'm doing... And I'm really good at making myself believe it. I can't wait till Wednesday. Maybe Erin (the other model) will cancel for next week."
"You were amazing. I'd love to have you here more."
I met my mom for lunch. She's somewhat changed her opinion... Or at least I'm going to think she has. I had completely forgotten that I was even naked. You just don't realize it. I mean, I guess you may if you're really self conscious of your body or what not... But I forgot unless I looked down and saw my boobs just poking out there. Then I'm like, Oh... Yeah... I don't have any clothes on. The other times I didn't care about how small my boobs were, or if I had cellulite showing in my ass or if they thought the way I had trimmed my ... bikini line ... was weird (which is always a funny worry... Like when you go to the gynecologist... "Oh, is she going to think this particular design is odd?").
So should I worry about being great at standing around naked in public? Maybe I should. But you all know I'm not going to.
I get there early. Of course now worried about little things like stomach rumblings, having to wee, gasses leaking audibly from one's body... Typical public speaking worries that have haunted all of humanity since the dawn of civilization... Still the only willies I have though. I walk into the gallery and there's the Professor coming toward the door. He gives me the grand tour. The building is an old turn of the century store with two fronts--The gallery side and the studio side (in the very front anyway). Behind the gallery is what will end up being my dressing (or UN dressing...) room. behind the studio is another studio. It sort of goes like that back till the bathrooms and the stairway at the back of the building. Up the stairs are the photography and graphic design studios and the offices. The Professors office is just as messy as one would expect. He cleared me a seat on a holey arm chair and we discussed exactly how the next two hours would go.
As I feared yet was also a little relieved to hear, I'd be coming up with my own poses. That's about as much info as I got. We went back down stairs and he tried to figure out where my changing room would be... What I would wear during breaks and between rooms ("Oh... I wasn't thinking about it. I should have told you to bring a robe....They just always bring one so I wasn't thinking about telling you that..."). I had worn my red coat for this exact reason. I had a feeling I probably should have brought a robe... But as I really didn't have that much information about the whole deal, I just came prepared with my long glorious red jacket.
Two students had arrived now. They were hanging out in the gallery as we came to the door to the studio. One was a geeky college aged boy. One was a nifty middle aged woman eating a plate of Zaxby's. "Is this our model?" She asked.
"Yeah," The Professor replied. "This is Erica."
"You go girl!"
I just smiled and laughed and walked into the studio. The studio had a front wall of windows and a glass door, all of which had been covered with black curtains for today's class. The two side walls were exposed brick. The back wall was plaster. All of them were covered with art, same as the gallery. One particular painting was awesome. It was a pig sitting at a table with a human head with an apple in its mouth on a plate in front of him. On the pig's fork was a human hand. The room was utter perfection. No plinth. Just a few easels, stools, and lights circling a cream colored quilt on the floor.
The Professor turned up the heat and we stood there talking. Soon the students joined us. I don't recall their names now. I really liked the middle aged woman. Soon a middle aged man joined us as well. Questions were popping around everywhere. From me, To me, About me.... "So have you done this before?"
"Oh yeah, she's a pro," said The Professor.
I over exaggerated, "Oh yeah, I've done this LOOAAADDDDS of times..." I'm not sure if they caught my sarcasm.
It was getting hot now and more students were filing in. The class, I was told, was 10 students. Today it was 6 and apparently only one was missing. Only two males. The geek and the man. And the Professor of course. The rest were college aged girls and the woman. The girls didn't talk a whole lot to me at first. They were cordial and all. No jealousy as one might would imagine. I halfway expected a little. I was smaller than all of them, older, younger looking, AND had enough confidence to shed my clothing in front of a class of college kids and not show any nervousness at all... I'd probably be a little jealous if the role was reversed. Wishing I had the balls, wishing I was that comfortable in my own skin. But they didn't show any, even if they did feel it. They just sort of came in, got ready, kinda met me... That would change. Very quickly.
It was a little after twelve and we'd decided the missing girl had not been in any classes today so she must not be coming to this one. So the Professor walked over with me to the changing room, made sure the windows and what not were covered, and found me a chair to lay my clothes on. I laughed a little to myself while I took off my boots, shed my socks, and started shimmying out of blue jeans. Still not an ounce of nervousness. I was trying to figure out poses. All of them today would be standing. We'd be doing short quick positions first then one long pose. Poses are not easy to come up with. I throw my coat back on and walk barefoot back to the studio.
They're not quite ready yet. They're discussing the plan, what papers to use, what pencils to use, as I stand there against the wall with my coat pulled tightly around me. I'm burning up. BUT I do still have clothing on... So I figure I'll wait till the drawing begins to decide if I need the space heaters right beside me. "Okay, if everybody's ready, lets get started," the Professor says. Moment of truth. Still no butterflies. No anxiety. No nervousness. I step between the easels to my off white stage and drop the red off both shoulders in one fluid motion. I lay the sheath beside me and move myself into the center of the circle.
It was as natural a setting one could ever imagine for me, as though I was back in my native habitat. I stood there open, easy, motionless. The Professor walked around the room giving tips and pointers, telling them technique, making the students laugh, making me laugh. "She's a natual at this,"someone says. "Yeah. She's really good," from another. "Ok. New position." I moved. I shifted my weight. I lifted my arms above my head. I reached outward. I twisted my spine. I held onto my collar bone. I held my arm outward as though it was reaching for a lovers hand. "Wow," the Professor said. "We'll make this a short one!" He had originally said to me AND the class that the first poses would be roughly 30 seconds. His 30 seconds all last between 3 and 5 minutes.
Around the room the scratch of pencil and charcoal could be heard against news print. Everyone commented on how still I was. How they couldn't do it. The woman made a comment about her life would be easier if she just had her digital camera. I said I don't do nude photography, which brought laughs from the whole class. The girls opened up. They made fun of themselves, made fun of their art. Made comments like, "Ok, when you see this, DON'T get offended" or "Oh my god, I made your head like, SO fat!" I'd laugh along with them, sometimes commenting back, but never moving my body. Amazingly I never got an itch or the urge to sneeze... Yawning, though, I realized, tried to happen frequently. "You doing ok?" the Professor asked.
"Yeah, I'm doing fine."
And then a shot rang out! The middle aged man's easels had clips that startled us all! The girls to the right of me jumped. I was proud. Somehow I only managed a look of surprise and then laughter. Each time the man had to turn to a new sheet of paper the same thing. "Gunshot", Startled jumps and slight shrieks, then laughter.
Time for a break. I grab my jacket off the floor and wrap up in it. Everyone made a chain, walking around the room, comparing their work. I joined in. I wanted to see how I looked immortalized in art (that of course would be thrown away later except the geeky guy's). Some were good, some were great, some were... not so much. But in nearly all of them my boobs looked AWESOME. I, of course, commented on this. "My boobs look Amazing! I mean, I'm pretty ok with the rest of me but those could definitely be a little bigger" I say. Everyone laughs. I get told I'm wrong and that they really do look like that in real life and that they're cute. That everything about me is cute. I say "Yeah, CUTE. I notice you did not use nice and large and voluptuous to described them!" The Professor laughed at me.
Again the conversations start. Now more of them though--The girls have opened up too. More of them about me this time, rather than questions. Comments of "I could never hold still that long..." and "I don't see how you do it!" and "I love her coat!" Etc. It's like everything about me just amazed them. And in all honestly I really had not had a problem at all. Every once in a while I'd have to pause to figure out what pose I would do next, even though that was all I had thought about during the last pose. It was very hot now, though, so we turned off the heat. The lights themselves were like small fires and when we unplugged the heaters they got even brighter.
The geeky kid asked the Professor if I could turn toward him because so far he had only really gotten to draw one side of me. I'm SURE that was the ONLY reason he wanted a frontal view.
We started again. Pose after pose after pose. The professor was challenging them to draw in a fluid motion, to follow the weight line, to get the entire figure on the paper, to get the entire figure on the paper in under a minute. Practice was going to perfect this. Half the class was spent on these short poses. The other half of the class would be one long pose. Then they would start working on details, rather than just the figure. I could feel sweat on my sholders, my back, my ass, among other regions... My hands started to slide on my hips. I didn't really FEEL hot... And I knew if we did anything to lower the temperature that I would be cold... But now a hint of nervousness came in. Only because I could not wipe the sweat away. It started to feel like it was rolling down... I thought it'd be sort of embarassing for it to roll down and drip off my bum with everyone in the room's eyes focused only on me. Silliness I thought. It's hot. AND none of them are naked in front of a group of strangers... They would think nothing at all of me being sweaty.
Suddenly another startling sound. This time an absolutely abnoxious hot rod engine right outside the front windows. I may have even jumped this time. The geeky boy went to the window and opened the curtain and looked out. One of the girls was like, "You might not want to do that!" I hadn't even realized why that was a big deal (ya know... me standing there in my birthday suit and everything...) til then. "Yeah," I said. "I'm fine with doing this for the advancement of art and education but I'm sure the type of person driving a car that sounds like THAT is NOT someone I want fantasizing about me later" (which, of course, again brought laughter to the whole room).
Still they go on about how amazing I am. Still they pick on their mistakes. Still they make me laugh. Time for another break. Again I walk around the room. Their work gets better and better. Each pose nearly completely drawn on each of their papers now. No huge heads or huge feet or tiny hands. Everything nearly perfectly proportional. I end up sitting through this break, my bare bottom directly on the stool. The geeky kid comes over and joins in the conversation between me, The Professor, and the middle agers (both man AND woman). Apparently the man is an amazing painter. I add my input on websites and business cards and a little about the art scene in Athens. I fit right in with the group. We all talk like old friends, not as strangers. The break lasts a while this time. Everyone caught up in their conversations.
"You really haven't ever done this before," asked the woman.
"I really haven't."
"Well you're a natural. You're doing great!"
"Thanks! I just act like I know what I'm doing. You can get away with anything that way. I'm also really good at believing myself..."
The Professor announces we're about to get started on the long pose. The students ask for more short poses, more practice. The Professor doesn't grant them their wishes and I am glad. I was running out of ideas.
I pull my hair up for this pose, so the students can see my neckline and collar bones. I turn toward the wall so I'm not flashing flesh from the middle of my coat and try my best to pull my hair up in my usual little twist. It feels lumpy. Not to embarassment or anything, but I said it looked like crap. I was reassured it didn't by the middle aged woman. "I couldn't do that," she said. I'm still not sure if she meant she couldn't pull her hair up without a mirror or she couldn't stand naked in front of people. I step to the center of the circle again and shed my coat. "Nobody make fun of my hair! I know it looks awful" I say.
"Oh my god" said one of the girls who had been making me laugh all class. "It looks fine. Plus we would NEVER make fun of you for ANYTHING" (of course making me laugh again).
I decide to go with a position I had practiced often behind the doctor's back while standing in the patients room. I put my weight on the right foot, put my left wrist on my hip with my fingers pointed backwards and wrapped my right arm across my belly till I was holding my left wrist in my grip. The students had one minute to get my form on the paper. They did not succeed. The professor gave them one minute more. I'm not sure if they succeeded in that minute but either way they moved on to adding details. "Oh my goodness, when you see this you are going to hate me," the woman said.
"Keep drawing my boobs the way you have been and I'll love you for life!"
The Professor asked me a few times if I was ok. I, of course, was. I held this pose for around 20 minutes before he announced another break. By then my wrist was killing me. Silly silly me. I should have known not to do that, curl my wrist in and brace it against my waist... But I had. And we were going to have at LEAST another 10 minutes of holding it that way. I sat down and flexed it. Of course commenting on the fact that I was fine and the only thing bothering me was holding my wrist that way for so long. Again this amazed everyone.
We go again. This time I'd put my foot in the wrong place and kept having to shift it. I could feel the nails in the hardwood floors through the quilt and I had to place them perfectly in my arch or they got on my nerves. After I finally got that adjusted, and after some more laughs, before I knew it we were done. Everyone was disappointed they didn't have time to finish. I said I charged more for overtime and everyone laughed.
I put my coat back on and we made a train around the room again, looking at the end products. The girl who had said they'd never make fun of me had nearly every feature in her drawing, even the twist of my hair. Her's and the middle aged woman's were the best. Then I ended up back against the wall while everyone gathered their things. Everyone told me thank you and
gave me a round of applause and went on some more about how awesome I was and how they couldn't possibly hold that still for that long. Nearly everyone had gone when I made my way back across the hall to put my clothes back on. I felt elated. I had had a blast. I hadn't been nervous at all. Everyone in the class had great personalities and seemed to think I did as well! It was amazing. It wasn't far from what I expected, but I really didn't expect to go on and joke and laugh with everyone the whole time I was there.
I head up to the Professor's office. He comes in shortly after me. "So? How'd it go? You doing ok?"
"Yeah," I reply. "It was awesome! I had a lot of fun."
"You really hadn't ever done this before?"
"No..."
"You were great! I mean, really great."
"Like I said, I just tell myself I know what I'm doing... And I'm really good at making myself believe it. I can't wait till Wednesday. Maybe Erin (the other model) will cancel for next week."
"You were amazing. I'd love to have you here more."
I met my mom for lunch. She's somewhat changed her opinion... Or at least I'm going to think she has. I had completely forgotten that I was even naked. You just don't realize it. I mean, I guess you may if you're really self conscious of your body or what not... But I forgot unless I looked down and saw my boobs just poking out there. Then I'm like, Oh... Yeah... I don't have any clothes on. The other times I didn't care about how small my boobs were, or if I had cellulite showing in my ass or if they thought the way I had trimmed my ... bikini line ... was weird (which is always a funny worry... Like when you go to the gynecologist... "Oh, is she going to think this particular design is odd?").
So should I worry about being great at standing around naked in public? Maybe I should. But you all know I'm not going to.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Enrollment just rose by 50%
I'm the type of person that TIME means EVERYTHING. Don't get me wrong, I love love, and money is pretty ok, and friends are awesome... But you can have ALL of those in the world and if you don't have any TIME to spend with any of them, what's really the point? So I like having a lot of time. If I waste it, at least it is mine to waste. Seeing as time is one of the very most important resources in life, to me it is also very expensive. I am not willing to do a lot of things for a small amount of money simply for the fact that I personally believe my time alone is worth more than that, not including whatever labor is expected as well. Hence why I quit my job Friday.
Most people would be scared half to death to do such a thing, especially in this economy... I know. I went nearly all of last year jobless... it's not (entirely) fun. My mom told me that very morning that people went to jobs they hated everyday because they had responsibilities, etc., that whole spiel... I told her those people were too afraid to live their lives the way they wanted to and that I was not going to reserve myself to live like such people just because a piece of paper says I owe someone more pieces of paper... Mind I am a responsible person. I own up to my mistakes, I answer for my actions, etc. BUT there are things in life that you just cannot spend your entire life worrying about them. Money is one of them. Money comes. Money goes. I don't really worry at all about money. So that definitely was not going to be a reason to stay at a job.
I worked at a doctor's office, by the way. I have absolutely no educational background in the medical field. I suppose I was "lucky" to have gotten the job... But see, the thing is, I've never had a dream to work in a medical profession of any kind. Especially not one that deals only with feet... I have big dreams and little dreams. My big dream is to be a singer. I used to want to be a country singer cause I like their lifestyles. Lately I'm not completely sure. My little dreams (dreams that will be nice incase the big dream doesn't come true) are in real estate. FAR from the medical field. I'd like to rehab properties, develop affordable and NICE, safe housing for low income families, veterans, and the elderly, and I'd like to sooner rather than later be an appraiser. NONE of these things will be possible working 60 hours a week so someone else can live their dreams. And after I saw my paycheck Thursday night (after some... "misunderstandings" about my hours) it became very apparent that they weren't willing to pay me any amount close to what I thought 60 hours of my time was worth let alone for the work I did while there. So I went in Friday and quit. Which sounds crazy... but ironically enough at a recent conference I was REQUIRED to attend for said office (WITHOUT pay) I heard that only radical changes in one's life bring one closer to living a successful one (life). Hmm... Guess that's not the best place to take overworked, underpaid employees to teach them more about their jobs...
So anyway. When you close one door the draft opens a window... So I had an email in my inbox a few weeks ago that I had yet to respond to from a professor with whom I'd been discussing a job in the art department at the college. I got home from work (haha) Friday morning about 9:15 AM and decided to email him back. That afternoon I checked my email and he'd sent back about the position (still open) and he was meeting with some fellow hopefuls at Starbucks at 5. Damn. It was 5:23... So I emailed back that I could meet him tomorrow, same place, 2 PM. Great for both of us.
I start on Monday.
Technically now it IS Monday. I'm not exactly nervous. Not about standing naked in front of 10 or so art students roughly the same age as me.. (oh damn. I just remembered that although I will probably be the oldest one there aside from the Professor, I look 12. Ugh...Anyway...) It's just the slight anxiety of not knowing exactly what will be expected of me (as it is for anyone with any job). LUCKILY for me, though, it is my first time as an artist model and it is also their first time having a model in class. It may actually be the first time the college has had live models for it's life drawing course... So if I do sort of mess up a bit only the professor will know. (He came from another college and worked very hard to get models approved for the class.)
So I've been researching. Or trying to, at least. Google it. It's not the easiest thing to get actual information on. I have come across a few blogs though that discuss experiences and etc. which have put what slight curiosities I have at rest. Of course every class and every college will be different though. I am, at least, very at ease with my body. Well.... my boobs could be bigger, but my fat content could also be higher so I will take the 32 B's I have anyday. Currently my skin is clear so I don't have any like, back pimples to worry about (Like none of those snotty nosed little barely post pubescent adolescents don't have any!), AND I do have a cute butt to make up for my small boobs, not that these serious little art students will be concerned about any of that anyway. They'll me meticulously perfecting my every angle and every curve without a thought of who I am or if I'm pretty or fat or skinny or ugly. I am just a mere subject.
Bull shit. I know it's supposed to be pretty much the same as taking your clothes off in front of your doctor, but everyone is judgemental. I especially know this since working in a doctors office. They may not act that way when you're in front of them, but later on they'll be telling their families over Christmas dinner about their experiences drawing the naked Jack or Jill in College art. (I know this from experience as well!)
As I said though, I'm not at all nervous about stripping down for the advancement of art and education. I am very satisfied with the body God gave me. I even think it's sexy and cute! Mind I AM biased though... It's just the not knowing. Not knowing what poses I'm supposed to do till I get there. Not knowing if I really AM going to be strong enough to hold them for 20 minutes at a time. Not knowing if I will have to actually undress in front of the class (kinda hard... Kinda sexual) or if I'll have a dressing area and then only a robe to shed after I am standing on the plinth. These are the things I wonder about. Again not really nervous, not really anxious... Just curious. Not long left to wait now. My wondering shall be ended at high noon. Hmm... I think I shall get there a little early
Most people would be scared half to death to do such a thing, especially in this economy... I know. I went nearly all of last year jobless... it's not (entirely) fun. My mom told me that very morning that people went to jobs they hated everyday because they had responsibilities, etc., that whole spiel... I told her those people were too afraid to live their lives the way they wanted to and that I was not going to reserve myself to live like such people just because a piece of paper says I owe someone more pieces of paper... Mind I am a responsible person. I own up to my mistakes, I answer for my actions, etc. BUT there are things in life that you just cannot spend your entire life worrying about them. Money is one of them. Money comes. Money goes. I don't really worry at all about money. So that definitely was not going to be a reason to stay at a job.
I worked at a doctor's office, by the way. I have absolutely no educational background in the medical field. I suppose I was "lucky" to have gotten the job... But see, the thing is, I've never had a dream to work in a medical profession of any kind. Especially not one that deals only with feet... I have big dreams and little dreams. My big dream is to be a singer. I used to want to be a country singer cause I like their lifestyles. Lately I'm not completely sure. My little dreams (dreams that will be nice incase the big dream doesn't come true) are in real estate. FAR from the medical field. I'd like to rehab properties, develop affordable and NICE, safe housing for low income families, veterans, and the elderly, and I'd like to sooner rather than later be an appraiser. NONE of these things will be possible working 60 hours a week so someone else can live their dreams. And after I saw my paycheck Thursday night (after some... "misunderstandings" about my hours) it became very apparent that they weren't willing to pay me any amount close to what I thought 60 hours of my time was worth let alone for the work I did while there. So I went in Friday and quit. Which sounds crazy... but ironically enough at a recent conference I was REQUIRED to attend for said office (WITHOUT pay) I heard that only radical changes in one's life bring one closer to living a successful one (life). Hmm... Guess that's not the best place to take overworked, underpaid employees to teach them more about their jobs...
So anyway. When you close one door the draft opens a window... So I had an email in my inbox a few weeks ago that I had yet to respond to from a professor with whom I'd been discussing a job in the art department at the college. I got home from work (haha) Friday morning about 9:15 AM and decided to email him back. That afternoon I checked my email and he'd sent back about the position (still open) and he was meeting with some fellow hopefuls at Starbucks at 5. Damn. It was 5:23... So I emailed back that I could meet him tomorrow, same place, 2 PM. Great for both of us.
I start on Monday.
Technically now it IS Monday. I'm not exactly nervous. Not about standing naked in front of 10 or so art students roughly the same age as me.. (oh damn. I just remembered that although I will probably be the oldest one there aside from the Professor, I look 12. Ugh...Anyway...) It's just the slight anxiety of not knowing exactly what will be expected of me (as it is for anyone with any job). LUCKILY for me, though, it is my first time as an artist model and it is also their first time having a model in class. It may actually be the first time the college has had live models for it's life drawing course... So if I do sort of mess up a bit only the professor will know. (He came from another college and worked very hard to get models approved for the class.)
So I've been researching. Or trying to, at least. Google it. It's not the easiest thing to get actual information on. I have come across a few blogs though that discuss experiences and etc. which have put what slight curiosities I have at rest. Of course every class and every college will be different though. I am, at least, very at ease with my body. Well.... my boobs could be bigger, but my fat content could also be higher so I will take the 32 B's I have anyday. Currently my skin is clear so I don't have any like, back pimples to worry about (Like none of those snotty nosed little barely post pubescent adolescents don't have any!), AND I do have a cute butt to make up for my small boobs, not that these serious little art students will be concerned about any of that anyway. They'll me meticulously perfecting my every angle and every curve without a thought of who I am or if I'm pretty or fat or skinny or ugly. I am just a mere subject.
Bull shit. I know it's supposed to be pretty much the same as taking your clothes off in front of your doctor, but everyone is judgemental. I especially know this since working in a doctors office. They may not act that way when you're in front of them, but later on they'll be telling their families over Christmas dinner about their experiences drawing the naked Jack or Jill in College art. (I know this from experience as well!)
As I said though, I'm not at all nervous about stripping down for the advancement of art and education. I am very satisfied with the body God gave me. I even think it's sexy and cute! Mind I AM biased though... It's just the not knowing. Not knowing what poses I'm supposed to do till I get there. Not knowing if I really AM going to be strong enough to hold them for 20 minutes at a time. Not knowing if I will have to actually undress in front of the class (kinda hard... Kinda sexual) or if I'll have a dressing area and then only a robe to shed after I am standing on the plinth. These are the things I wonder about. Again not really nervous, not really anxious... Just curious. Not long left to wait now. My wondering shall be ended at high noon. Hmm... I think I shall get there a little early
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