june writing challenge day 6

(whoopsie this one is a day behind sorryyyy)

still life

i’m trying something new.

well, sort of new. unfamiliar?

i’ve modeled for years, and i’ve always found myself to be very comfortable in front of a camera. i don’t get the jitters when i meet a new photographer anymore, and it takes way less time for me to settle in and allow myself to screw up.

i’m not sure if i’ve fully internalized what i’ve signed up for this time though; i was asked by a friend of mine who teaches a life drawing class at an art college to pose for students in tasteful nude while they furiously preserve my likeness in charcoal.

i’ve never felt unafraid to be vulnerable, and i’ve undressed for shoots before. this feels different though, and i can’t quite put my finger on it.

i mean, the obvious is there: i’ll be holding one pose for a long while, i’m going to be seen by eyes in the process of learning how to create without judgement, and i don’t really have autonomy over how i am perceived and captured. i know the stakes are pretty low. ultimately these drawings are going to just exist in the students’ practice sketchbooks. i don’t know why it feels different. i guess it just does.

stepping into the class, i immediately gravitate to the small details that bring me comfort. the small platform i’ll be posing on is warmly illuminated, and the classroom doesn’t have that fluorescent haze that seems to expose every crack and flaw in the rest of the campus buildings. my eyes land on a messenger bag propped up against an easel with patches sewn in holding pieces of identity like “she/her”, “cats welcome, humans tolerated” and “i wish i was reading”. i see the student setting herself up at the easel, presumably the bag’s owner, and decide that i can look to her if i start to sweat.

i’m directed to undress, and begin holding my position. immediately, the quiet feels obstructive, like each breath i take would be distractingly loud. i look to my messenger bag student, but the angle of the easel obstructs her face as she sketches.

shit.

i take the slowest breath i can possibly take from my diaphragm, hold it and close my eyes for a moment, then slowly breathe out. as i open my eyes, i see the gentleman in front of me slightly pull his head from his work, so as to review from a further perspective. putting down his charcoal, he mindlessly brushes his eyebrow with his hand, leaving a black trail across his face. unaware of his new mark, he finds whatever perspective he needed and gets back to scribbling. i’ve decided he is my new safe point to stare into.

it feels a lot like when i started off modeling; instead of looking into the camera or to anyone on the crew specifically , i’d find a single spot and stare it down. somewhere unmoving, secure, able to keep me stable. usually an exit sign, a single decoration that caught my eye, a piece of furniture. it took years before i felt i could start to really properly interact with the team taking my picture. in this moment, its like i’m back in the beginning; just trying to find something familiar to hold onto, something to perceive as strongly as i’m being perceived. it is just one of those brain tricks that helps me feel in power in moments where i am spread out.

i’ve been asked to sit for 30 minutes. each pose is held for slightly different durations, between 15 seconds and 10 minutes. between each pose i catch my breath, drink water, and start to settle in a bit more. i’ve sort of made a game of finding details about the people drawing me that they perhaps didn’t expect anyone to notice; one student had bleached her roots and dyed them red, but bits of brown have pushed through the crown of her head. a gentleman in the middle row wearing a button-down shirt hasn’t noticed that the fourth button from his neckline has come undone, revealing his white undershirt. the student sitting closest to me seems to make a tiny whistle noise from their nose every time they stop to think.

by the end, i’m really quite grateful for how well i’m able to find comfort in this activity. i knew this was going to be out of my comfort zone, and it definitely was, but i had a lot of fun taking in the details of those in focus. it feels like an equal exchange: while they’re absorbing the different geometric shapes that make up my thighs, stomach and shoulders, i’m absorbing the small pieces of the space they take up that are unmasked and unfiltered. its an unspoken agreement that to see is to be seen.

afterwards, i hug my friend and she thanks me for posing for the class, then i step out. i will likely never see those students again, let alone recognize them, but i do feel like a part of me has gotten to know some of them in ways deeper than after a conversation. it was such an incredible way to analyze how we see people, and the way people want to be seen. and i think it makes me a little bit less scared to be seen too.

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