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2004-06-06 @ 12:08 a.m. |
| Gee, how did I manage to get through two drawing classes without even talking about them this week? Last Sunday I had to drive in from Married Guy's to attend my new drawing class. We had started the class at the community center, but since the class was so small, Johnson, our teacher had to move it to a friend's house, to save on rent. Originally when I saw the address of the new guy's house I blanched. It was on the same street as Zenshrink lives on. And the description of where the house was sounded like their lawns were, connected somehow. And I could just see myself trying to sneak up to the front door of this strange new house, whilst trying to avoid Zenshrink out watering his petunias or something. But fortunately, it was one block further than I thought, so I didn't have to deal with playing secret agent artist girl. The house was really nice though. This whole section of town is full of therapists. "A" only lives about 4 blocks away, and I think I heard that the guy supplying our studio space was also a therapist. A very nice looking therapist. A very married therapist, in case you're getting any grand ideas, Witty. And speaking of grand, as soon as I stepped into the front door, I couldn't help but notice that there was this fabulous black grand piano in the middle of his living room. Man, it was awesome. Have I ever told you about my uncontrollable urge to always play pianos, even if they aren't mine and even if it isn't appropriate? I slowly walked by it...eyeing it lovingly. Now this is a total stranger's house, and I am a total stranger, but I just had the strongest urge to drop all my art supplies and go play a slammin' arpeggio on those shiny 88! But I controlled myself. Everyone was already there when I got to the attic. Johnson, Ed, the soon-to-be-naked female model. The room was big and bright with some newly refinished hardwood floors. It was a nice space, but it felt weird. Me, being with two men and a naked woman in an attic. Well, she wasn't naked yet, and I always find it just slightly titillating when a model undresses in front of you. Must be my hormones or something. But she did, and I kind of had to divert my eyes for a moment. Is that not weird? I can look at them naked for 3 hours, yet I can't watch them take their clothes off. Hmmm. Sounds like a therapy issue. "A"? Anyways, this class went a little better than the first one. I wasn't quite so frustrated, but I was still intimidated everytime Johnson would stand behind me while I drew. I would always go OOPS about something and then tense up. I guess I don't like people watching me do things. Why am I so freakin' nervous about everything? Oh, I had a mother who criticized virtually everything I ever did...that's right I did try to employ all the things he taught me in the first class...the trapezoids and such, but I once again, got really hung up on all that crap, so I just finally drew one MY STYLE and was able to relax. The Wednesday class was a little more relaxed. It was a small group, but it heralded the return of Charlemagne, the Obnoxious French Guy. I had tried to sit on the opposite side of the room and was just lowering my ass into a chair when this older man, who I don't really care for said, "THAT'S MY SEAT!" Hey, it was just an empty desk with no freakin' name tag on it, but I immediately gave in naturally, because, well, you know...the booming voice thingie. So I ended up on the other side of the room with "J", my original art guy/possible husband who turned out to be gay. He's nice. We chat each week. And then on the other side of me was Charlemagne, the Obnoxious French Guy. Again, I was totally intimidated by "J"'s presence. He's a really good artist and I felt like he might look over and think...that girl does crap. It took me a good 45 minutes before I managed to sort of angle my shoulder to hide my sketch pad, before I could draw anything decent. Our model was a regular. She's very well rounded. Round ass. Round boobs. Round belly. I had heard her talking one time back in March and she was mentioning something about the gathering of her coven. Well, allrighty then. Lovin' that coven missy...maybe she can supply me with a magic spell to put on Married Guy's wife so that she bleets like a goat when you say the word organic. Anyways, "J" had brought in this huge bucket of peonies. There were probably 25 flowers and the blooms were about the size of small cantaloupes. So the model decided to use a handful of them for one of her poses. But guess what? They were full of ants, which soon started crawling all over the model and were quickly dropping into her naked lap and crawling God know where. And the girl never flinched! Maybe she put a hex on them or something. Or maybe she directed them towards us, the hapless artists, because I soon had ants crawling up the side of my drawing table and onto my sketch pad. Naturally I nearly screamed like a girly girl, because I thought they were spiders. AND I HATE SPIDERS... So this is where Charlemagne comes in. Usually its pretty quiet during the class, but this guy had a running comedic monologue about everything happening in the room, out in the side yard where some kids were playing and in the art gallery next to our room. And he's very funny. And I was soon kibitzing with him. Me...shy girl. But I do have a fabulous sense of humor, which I like to unleash on special occasions. Like when I'm in close proximity to another person with a fabulous sense of humor. I find humor very appealing. Married Guy is very sharp and funny. "A" can be hilarious when he's not yelling at me about Married Guy. I even get his obscure comedic movie references. So when I saw the first ant, I decided to flick it at the Obnoxious French Guy. No reason. Other than feeling like a silly eight year old. And he reacted in exactly the way I expected...in mock horror like...Oh ants! Help! This was a grown man mind you. OK, I like comedic types. While other teenagers used to get crushes on TV or movie actors, I would get crushes on comedians. He did end up flirting with a girl behind us though. She was about 15 years younger than me, and had on a push up bra that pushed her boobs up around her chin. Damn, just can't compete with that. But here is peonies witch girl. I had to scan two images and fit them together in Photoshop. And I also added some color, mainly because I had an artistic mishap when I smudged her legs and had black dust on my fingers. She suddenly looked like a weary survivor of mud wrestling match. Not sure what happened. Maybe it was a build up of ant larvae or something. 
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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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