Artville

I’m motoring up to Somerville this morning for the first of two Paint the Model sessions at the Vernon Street studios. I’m psyched! Though I’ve always been a people painter (and usually they’ve been nekkid peoples), it’s been about 500 years since I’ve drawn a live model. Live...versus dead? Yes, yes, yez, I’ve also drawn from the deceased (AKA cadavers). It’s been just as long since I went all Leonardo as well.

I work from photographs. Why? Mostly it’s because I feel funny, socially awkward, about the whole thing. Because they’re nude and I’m not? Nope. It’s all about me being consumed with what I’m doing, painting, and them just sitting (or laying) there. I feel like I ought to be making convo or getting a cuppa and cookie for them or, in some way, making with the entertainment action.

Working from a real, honest to Bast, 3D human, is gonna be interesting as all hell. A new-ish challenge. I won’t be painting—at least not at today’s session. I’ll draw. I figure I’ll do a fuck-ton of sketches from a lot of angles to see what whammies my fancy. At the next session, I’ll attempt painting the model using watercolors or gauche.

Did I mention? I’m PSYCHED!

OK, that and nervous. The two other painters in today's group are mega talented realistic type artists. There's Damon Lehrer and Jonathon Nix. Me? I'm all expressionist/fauve city. Yes, I can do faithful portrayals BUT I'm simply UNable to resist the call of a crazy wild brushstroke, a broad swath of texture or splashes of dioxizine purple or alizarin crimson where none actually exist.

I need to remember that I can be me. Being frozen in a block of self imposed intimidation is a great way to ruin, what could be, a totally fun day!