I went to my life drawing class last night, even though there were all kinds of things I felt like I should be doing at home before I leave for two months.
The other people who run and attend the class are really lovely, although sometimes I don’t have the energy at the end of the day to be social, and feel like the words coming out of my mouth are just weirdness.
Despite this, I went last night and I’m glad I did. The model was a repeat, because there are only so many people in this little town willing to get their kit off in front of a room full of people. And I do struggle with the longer poses, because I draw quickly; I don’t know how to do more than what I naturally do.
And, yes, I’ve been meaning to try out different materials. Every week I’ve brought in pastels, but I don’t know what to do with them. Drawing with those big smudgy things would not be expressive for me; I have a way of expressing myself I really like, so last night I let myself go with that and I drew in my own way:
During the long timed drawings, I took the opportunity to draw poses just out of my head, because I found that staring at a real person gave me a sense of how things connected and where the weight was — which I suppose is ultimately the point of going to a life drawing class. The cartoon figures turned out to be my favourites, though.
My big temptation is to draw the other people in the class. And I actually wish we could do some sessions with the models having their clothes on — not because I’m prudish, but because I like the folds and details of clothing, and, really, how many times am I going to be called upon to draw somebody in the altogether?