***Disclaimer--I will get around to writing the second part of my last article!***
You know, as much as it's a pain to get to the school that I do most of my modeling at, I've actually come to enjoy the long commute back home.
That sounds strange, doesn't it? I mean, I think I can speak for most of us when I say that the daily commute is probably the worst part of most people's days. And truth to tell, I loathe my daily commute. Just thinking about it now gets my blood boiling.
But the commute back home from Georgetown (where the school that I do most of my modeling is located at) isn't so bad, even though it seems to take forever to actually get back home. I've found that it serves as the perfect coda to the day's modeling assignment. It basically forces me to have about an hour or so of downtime afterward, which in turn lets me reflect on what just transpired.
Now, I know when I first got interested in modeling, one of my first thoughts was "sweet, I can sit on my ass for three hours and get paid for literally doing nothing!" And a lot of people whom I've talked to about modeling understandably have the same initial thoughts.
But it's actual work. It taxes your body. A lot. And you can't just zone out the entire time or you'll break your pose. I've never left an assignment and not felt worn out, at least for a while.
And then there's the nudity factor. I'm going to write another post soon about what it's actually like to be naked in front of complete strangers. It takes a lot to share your naked form, warts and all, in front of people. There's a certain psychological component to it, and you can't just shut off the feelings involved in what is basically an intimate, private state of being.
So for doing nothing, there sure as hell is a lot to think about when all is said and done. Think about it, you helped people unleash their talent and create something that, hitherto, didn't exist in the world. Namely, their drawings and perceptions of you!
Sometimes this reflection can be less than positive. I know that not everyone draws you the way YOU actually look like. Sometimes I've wanted to tell people "okay, I'm overweight. I'm NOT nine months pregnant!" Other times I've seen people draw me overly-complimentary. To where I wanted to say "I appreciate the Superman-esque square jaw and the flat stomach. But that's NOT me!" One time I gave serious thought to how stupid I was to model in a freezing cold classroom, to the point where I was actually shivering when the class ended. And I resolved on the subsequent ride home that from there on, I would insist that a heater be made available, and to cut out the stoic "I'll tough it out because I don't want to be a complainer" bullshit.
But other times the reflections are much more rewarding. When an entire class thanks you (sometimes in person) for modeling for them. I can't tell you what it's like to cinch up your robe, turn to grab your bag, and when you start to leave people honestly and genuinely thank you as you start to leave.
Or like my most recent class last Saturday, which was easily one of my most enjoyable ever. It was just an absolutely rainy, yucky, cold day out. Initially, there was only one student, and after about 15 minutes of waiting, the professor decided to go ahead and start the class anyway. She was really excited about it, because with only one student in the class, she could draw instead of teach! And I have to say I was excited about it myself. I've never modeled for such a small number, so I knew the class would be less regimented and there would be a lot of back-and-forth during the class. And when I removed my robe, I felt completely at peace. It was a miserable day outside, with the wind and rain clearly audible, but here I was, warm and in a safe environment, on the podium with the rail lights shining directly on me and warming my skin. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Eventually, a few more students showed up, but the class was still pretty small (maybe four or five students, tops). And these students had some serious talent! They drew me the way I look. Right out of the gate. Even though each student had a distinctive style, I could easily recognize myself in each of their works. One drew a close up. One was more focused on perspective, but was easily able to encapsulate me. One had a somewhat stylized work that honestly resembled those blank-eyed, steel-jawed figures you'd see in an Italian Fascist piece of art.
But each of these works completely and accurately resembled me. Warts and all. Do you know what it's like to see someone pull ideas completely out of the aether in less than three hours, to where you look at what they created and think to yourself "she captured all of my good points, all of my bad points, and I'm completely overjoyed with what just happened--and I was the one that got to share in this process"?
Up until last Saturday, I didn't know what it was like. At least not as profoundly as then. And that's what I reflected upon during a grey, stormy weekend bus ride back to the subway.
And I enjoyed every minute of it.
