I am a part-time teetotaller. Part-time because I have neither the willpower nor the inclination to stop drinking completely; I just like the thought of living a hangover-free existence. In my teetotal world however, I will always hop off the wagon if:
- champagne is on offer
- the drinks are free
Tonight, the drinks were free. Consequently, I was late for my art class.
By the time I arrived, everyone had already completed some sketches and were preparing to paint the model. They had also evidently got over the shock that the model was not a white middle aged, dimply-thighed housewife, but a beautiful young black woman with neatly trimmed pubic hair.
I set up my easel behind the model – the only place left in the room – and spent the next hour and a half painting my first life model.
While I painted, it became apparent that the model was annoyed with the tutor for not telling her she was expected to stay in one position for so long and got a little bit stroppy with him. He’s not a great communicator but he’s a lovely man and I felt a bit sorry for him.
Therefore, I re-painted her bottom and made it less pert.