Every Sunday morning, I take a brisk walk to Georgetown and draw naked people for three hours.
You’re weirder than we thought, CL.
Well, I generally don’t blog about myself. On weekends, I’m usually wading through my inbox and trying to get columns together for the week. But my CL email got hacked (fucking hell!) and I spent my catch up time on the phone with tech support (fucking hell!) and I won’t have proper email for days (fucking hell!) and while I can still blog (sigh of relief), I cannot access my inbox (fucking hell!).
What’s this have to do with drawing naked people, Tracy?
My sanity. I draw to stay sane. And as I was walking home, I was thinking of how much I really, really, really love to draw. And how guilty I often feel taking those three hours each week to do this thing I love.
And yet, how calm and happy it makes me. Like, calm enough to spend an hour on hold with GoDaddy. (And before you tech people berate me, I KNOW THEY SUCK. Look, I registered my domain name with them in 2012 and route my email through them and they fucking OWN me. If you can solve this, email me… oh wait…)
Back to drawing — when I draw, I lose myself. I’m in “the zone” — that creative place where the self dissolves, but then is rudely awaken by Natasha, my instructor saying, “Tracy! Stop! What are you doing?” taking my pencil in hand and pointing out some obvious bit of anatomy that I flubbed.
Like knees. I hate drawing knees. They’re so complicated. Knees are positively treacherous.
But I stick with it.
Which might be a metaphor for something, but I’m too lazy to complete that thought into a proper blog essay, but I will share some knees.
If you’re offended by naked people, look away! I’ll be back to writing about betrayal and mindfuckery tomorrow.
Meanwhile, some social media love for Winter Palace Studio. If you’re in the DMV and you want a challenging art class — check it out.
(If you’re the sort of person who needs a lot of warm fuzzies and just wants to express themselves — go paint a mug. This is NOT the studio for you. If you’re the sort of sadomasochist who wants to spend three years perfecting your knee anatomy — sign up.)
Without further ado… my figure drawings.