Life Drawing
1 "You will have two tasks to accomplish -- first you will do a series of brief, rough sketches of the form. Concentrate only on the shapes of the form, not the detail." Emma felt nameless, uninvited ; standing here like a fifth wheel as the instructor turned his back from her to discuss the process of how to draw rough-scale forms. Yet she was not uninvited, for she was the form that everyone made such a fuss over, and soon the room would be silently focusing upon her, and her naked form. No, she'd have to think like these people. She's a nude, a model, an object to manipulate on canvas. "After that, all of you will concentrate on detail -- just as I'd expect when you produce a.. a representation of a table, for instance! I think twenty minutes would be sufficient." A collective groan circulated from the crowd, which made Emma amused at their lack of faith in what she believed to be a pretty basic part of her, her physical self. "Oh, you don't say that when you deal with anything else now... besides, if you can understand the human body .... you can understand anything!" The instructor then looked at Emma -- "You may proceed.", sounding as if Emma was the student waiting to write an exam. The room fell silent as expected. Emma's cool bare feet tapped the marbled floor as she slowly, professionally walked toward the simple, unadorned wooden chair. She stood right at its centre, obstructing much of its view. For one heartbeat and for one breath, she stood unmovingly like the wood that sat behind her. After comprehending that this rigidity wouldn't work, that she'd have to be lively, she stirred her arms and let loose the gown that covered her skin. As her robe fell, the hissing of pencils began their flight across the expanse of the room. Her figure was transferred onto the flat creases of the pale, unadorned page. The exercises were brief, the only difference being the little pretences of movement to distinguish each 20-second pose from the next-- her hand against her cheek like a dazed child, her arms spreading out into the furthest reaches of her range as if she wanted to fly -- and so on. Her limbs seemed to be able to do anything, to be manipulated in any shape or form. Adjusting her poses frequently, she allowed a few glances at different areas of the floor, noticing a few grimaces of some of the less experienced artists. Embarrassment? "Don't be embarrassed, folks -- it's only a body, it won't make you go blind. It's an object, like a still life.", the teacher insisted humorously. Emma tried not to grin and crack open her stillness with a smile, but she couldn't help twisting her lips slightly at the moment. She feels so free and open, as she stands in this way. Strange to know that she would have been as timid about this as anyone else before. She needed to block out her embarrassment; to be the Eve before the Fall; to tolerate the paradise of her own skin. "Okay, now it's time for the 20-minute drawing --- you can start.... now." Emma's fleeting mind for basic invention worked immediately. She let her hands grasp the back of the quite small chair -- she doubted that she'd be too comfortable in it -- and turned her head to the side as if she was looking at something more absorbing than the reality that was going on in front of her. As she leaned back on the chair, her body tilted backwards a bit. Her knees gave the smallest hint of their bending, as if she was ready to walk away as soon as the command was set. Her pear-shaped breasts seemed more lifted, more brazen, more flaunting. Her arched stomach seemed more touched with a few not undesired pounds. The growth of her pubic hair was more wild, more overt, more truthful in telling whoever was permitted to listen, that, yes, Emma is a fully functioning self -- she works, she goes to school, she sometimes gets lazy and lies around for a stretch, she sometimes goes for exotic foods, and also that she is a sexual being, an agent of desire. Right now, however she was merely doing her job. This was just a choice she decided to make, not an embarrassment or an act of stimulation. When the art class was finished, Emma went to the washroom to change into her everyday clothes. Upon her exit, she noticed fifteen pictures lined up in a row. It was like walking through a house of mirrors, except right now the original form was no longer in the state of the copies. As she looked closely however, she noticed that not all of the pictures were perfect, which was understandable, since so far she would be the only one who understood her own body. The pictures were good, and talent was employed, but the bodies did not feel as if a genuine self had lived in them for twenty-odd years. As she poked along the class, there was one portrait that caught her eye --- it gave her an almost queasy feeling inside, for whoever drew it drew all that was placed on her body by nature -- the birthmark on her thigh, the tiny mole on her shoulder that used to irritate her in her less mature years, even the right shade of her nipples-- and if he could be so perceptive of the specific points of her physical self, then imagine what he might sense of her, the self that lives in the world. She looked to the signature. Nick Williams. Neat. Not as if she'd ever run into this person again, anyway, but just imagine. 2 Emma was racing through the spring rain in order to catch her bus, and as her clothes were being sprinkled by the rain, they were being sludged by the muddy residue of the tiring winter. As she ran towards the bus, she collided with someone else, and felt compelled to apologize. "Oh, god.. I'm sorry about that.... are you all right?" "Yea, I am, don't worry about it." , the young man replied. The two of them stood, their thoughts dangling, at least that's how Emma felt, as she tried to pick them back up again, awkwardly so. "Umm....hi.. I'm Emma. Emma Osborne." He gave a crooked smile towards this introduction, and reached out to shake her hand. "Well, then I'm Nick... Nick Williams." Emma had just shook his hand as this sentence was spoken, and she felt a tremble surging through her bones. Their handshake lasted for what seemed endlessly. Their wrists soon became weary; but they remained locked by the hand, their eyes darting all over the other's face, attempting to decipher what was occurring beneath the bright eyes and creases of the skin. Gazing as if they knew that there were secrets that would eventually be revealed. The footsteps of people sounded as they filed into the bus. Both Emma and Nick were snapped out of their daze. "Oppps...", Emma jumped. "I think we'll miss our ride!!" "Yea, well.....let's go together then." Emma smiled gently. "I don't see why not!!" 3 "We got along really well, which really was no surprise seeing as people often tell me how friendly I am, even to complete strangers!" Emma is talking to her friend Melissa, when they really ought to have been working on the paper which waits for them on the computer screen. Melissa asks, "So do you think he realized that you were the woman who.... you know!" "I don't think so ....I did tell him that I'm interested in art as well, but that's all I said." The nude posing was a rather silent topic, for it was an instinct, one Emma wanted to get rid of, to be embarrassed at such flaunting of the body. She has already dreaded today, since she had skipped class to pose, and she would expect to confront her professor about why she was absent from class. Sure, the prof would have been only teasing, but what if she were to find out, what would the professor say? "Sure, I didn't tell him that I posed, but that doesn't mean I would be embarrassed if I were to pose nude in front of him again...", Emma clarified. "Yea...??", Melissa asked. "... that is, perhaps, if he were the only one in the room!!!", she blushed. "Oh, my friend, you are so bad. I think that art scene made you a real perv!", her friend joked. "Well, I'm serious! What's wrong with that.... I have my values. I'm not a slut. Sex is not a bad thing!" "Yea, that's true...... but what's also true is that this paper must be finished very soon. So we better get it done." Later, as Emma walked out of the building, she noticed her professor swinging a glance right towards her, a moment she dreaded all day: "Hey, Emma, nice day out, isn't it?", giving her prettily toothy smile as she walked past Emma. "Why...yea!", she flusters. "It's wonderful... not like that rain yesterday. I nearly ruined my jeans." The professor kept smiling, as if she could read something amusing in Emma's face. "Well, summer will be arriving shortly -- it will be all splendid then. I'll see you in class.... hopefully." Emma's face blushed, but she kept up a brave front. "Sure. See you later." As she tried to wipe that moment from her mind, Emma was confronted with anohter surprize from beside her. "Hey, Emma, fancy meeting you here..." Emma jumped, and turned around to see Nick. She didn't think that Nick would be showing up here out of the blue; he didn't even go to university. "Well, hey, man what are you doing here?" "Oh, I was just walking from Burger King with these guys....", he points to his friends, who hovered near them. "Do you want a sip?", he holds up the cup of soda. "Sure, thanks!", Emma leaned over to take the thin yellow straw in her mouth. Her eyes twitched to look at Nick and it was evident that there was something more to that random encounter at the bus stop. "Hey, Nick, why don't you pack a lunch or something.... you're just pissing your money away at these places, excuse my french." "Would you say that if I asked you to come to dinner with me sometime?" Emma thought she'd have choked on her own surprise. "Are you serious?" "Only if you are, Emma!" "Well ...... I think I can manage that." 4 The two had gone out to dinner, as Nick promised. The dinner was very good, of course, but both of them were really more concerned with each other. They talked about their school, their interests, and their art. Emma had told him that she too was trying to learn how to paint, and that she had many ideas of her own she hoped to express. She felt as if she held back, however. She watched his eyes, wondering if he ever figured out who she was, if he sensed a mystery behind her. The fact was that he did warm up to her pretty fast. They've only known each other for a few days. Was she just so damn attractive that the first guy to come along would ask her out, or did he sense more to her? Something that went beyond simple flirting? She wanted to know. Sure, she sort of hopes that they'll hit the sack pretty soon. But it didn't seem as simple as a one-night stand. This was an experience that was romantic, fascinating. Now they were back in her apartment. Nick was curious about Emma's art, so she felt obliged to display it. She told him to come into her room, as she took some watercolours from behind her desk. "The typical stuff, you know.... a still life of fruit; a flower, a tree..", her voice growing more sarcastic with each object. "Have to start somewhere, my friend! I remember doing that a few months ago. Of course, I've advanced a bit now, with the life drawing and all." Both of them paused, having lost the words momentarily. "...yea...well, that sounds.. awfully interesting!", she flusters. "I've... done a bunch of drawings too. Not of nudes, yet, of course. Just ordinary, dull things around the house. My cat, the window over there, that's all." "Don't you have any big ideas, though? Stuff that just gnaws at your brain, that you just got to get out?" "Of course, Nick. But it takes..... a real drive to do that. I really don't have the ability yet to be that confident. But if I ever do, I least I'll be prepared. I have a whole pile of stuff under my bed." She sits down by the side of the bed and pulls out a couple of wooden boxes, which held all her paints, brushes, pencils and paper. "Here are all the tools of my trade.", Emma grinned. "Now you can tell me how I can become successful with them." "Gee, I can't say, girl!!", puzzled, "All I do is go to art class every week... and go to art shows once in a while. I'm not exactly Picasso." Emma raises her face to meet his unknowing eyes. "Maybe not... but you can do some things quite well....like drawing nudes, for one." He laughs, "Well, yea.", he admits as Emma gets up and walks over to her desk. "It's really..... useful to struggle with a life drawing, you'll know what I mean when you get to that level. You get a good perspective on the body... I mean, it's good practise on when you do portraits or something. You know how the body is shaped.", he says as he now sees Emma in front of the chair, her hands grasping its corners as she leaned back on it. "So...", he cheerfully asks. "How did you figure I was so good??" "Look at me.", she whispered. Moments passed like a floating drop of snow. "Do you see anything?" "I... I don't believe it... that really was you." "Yep!", she burst into a wide smile. "Wow...... I had a strange feeling ever since I shook your hand that day that I recognized you. But I thought I was just crazy...... I've never seen you with your clothes on before!" They both laugh with surprise at the truth of that unusual comment. "Nope. That was me, all right! I thought I was just crazy too.... because it seemed so unreal that I'd bump into you and that all of these things would happen." The both of them fell silent for some time, stumbling on what to say next. Emma finally spoke. "You don't think I'm terrible, do you? I used to be pretty shy about stuff like this. But .... well, I guess I still am sometimes!! I learned to be comfortable, you know, I just .... stand around naked, that's what it is! I'm not doing anything nasty. There's a wall between me and those guys on the other side of the room, and we all know our place." Nick looked at her, expecting that the end of the conversation was approaching. "Well, I guess I should let you go. You need the sleep for tomorrow." "Perhaps..... but maybe I don't want you to leave." "Really?? What's that supposed to mean?", he grinned. "Maybe...umm.. I want some company." "Are... are you serious??" She approaches him. "Why not?? You're a nice person. It's obvious you found me attractive -- look how you drew me!" He chuckles in recognition. "So... I'm offering you a chance to be more..... inspired." She grips his hand, a sign of fondness. "You are right..... I can be inspired.... you are so beautiful.", he sighed. "But.... how bold you are!! I'm so surprised at this!" "True. But I want to do this...... that is if you want to, too!" She laughs as she blushes, "I just want to get naked with you!!!" "Well...", he brings up his courage, "I'll join you." The two hold each other gently, kissing tenderly and often, with a mix of deep kisses and delicate pecks on the lips. Cautiously, they wade into the shallow end of this deepening encounter. Emma's hands stroke Nick's waist, and then pull out his shirttails from inside his jeans, to touch his trembling stomach. Nick's own hands caress his partner's waist, slowly getting them underneath the rim of her sweater, and touching her sweaty, nervous skin. For a long time this is what they did; their hearts beating, as their hands touched each other. "How do you feel?", Nick asked. "Terrified, but I'm loving every minite of it!", Emma said. "Well...... we might as well jump right into it." They unhesitatingly remove each other's clothes, tossing each item on to the floor. Their hands wanted to reach, to never stop moving, to paint this picture of passionate romance. After they finished with the clothes, their fingers could do nothing else but wrap around each other, as if preparing to dance. "Now do I look familiar??", Emma anticipating the answer. "Yea...... I'd recognize that body anywhere!!", he fearlessly said. Which in turn sparked a burst of laughter in Emma. "Ha!! You know, however, that I'm going to have to become more accustomed to your body. Right now I have an unfair situation here!!", she joked as she moved closer to him, to reach his mouth. Without clothes, Emma and Nick were almost relieved by the end of the web of fabric they had to unveil. They kissed gently for a long while, tiny ones on each other's lips, as they stood naked. Innocent it was, like the most ideal of circumstances - but they had became free, willing to travel that road to a more physical union. Emma let go of him and went on the bed, to lie on her back. Nick's hand had unconsciously stretched out to her as she drifted away to the mattress, as if he was trying to catch her falling. But he too decided to follow her lead and fell near her as well. Their eyes gazed at each other's bodies, for this is what it was; a love of each other's presence. He began to slide his hands all across her body -- this was what he drew, his fingers the pencils that laboured over the shape, the shadows, the detail, and here he was doing that job again. Yet he couldn't call it a job any more, but a passion. He knew of artists who lived for their art, but when does the art object itself desire to live for the artist? "Don't be afraid, Nick. I won't bite, you know!!", she giggled softly. He let his fingers just touch -- her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her pubic hair --and it felt strange. He let his fingers go inside of her mouth, which gladly sucked at them for a time, and then in between her legs, and he felt as if he were actually stepping into the world of the true artistic creation. Then, Nick almost frightfully reached down to kiss her figure. It was like violating a piece of artwork. He would never think to touch the surface of an old rustic painting with all its colours, shapes and textures, but here he was, his face nuzzling in between Emma's breasts, his hands caressing her inner thighs. Later, as his mouth valued the folds of her vagina, he could hear her moan joyfully, and he felt that he reached a point where the art had a life separate from the artist. After a while, he looked to her. "I never imagined it could be like this, Emma. I discovered you in a way I never could that day I drew you." "Awww... that's nice.. but don't think about art right now, just think about us, okay?", as she sat up to kiss him again. She then wordlessly asked to do with him as he did with her. She let him fall to the bed on his back, as Emma proceeded to labour over his own shape. Emma desired this avenue of expression, this connection with the energy and the life of the world, and she was as active toward the possible nature of sex as she was about everything else. She knows of a time when she was not yet attentive to nature. When she was young, living in the country with her parents, she one day decided to go out for a walk with her dog. As the two stepped through the falling snow, she felt its touch against her nose and her cheeks. As she looked up at the sky, her eyes would be overwhelmed by its brilliantly pure white clouds. She was aware of the elaborate design of the trees, of each type of leaf, of every decaying grass and weed. Her eyes could finally see for the first time; her body could finally feel for the first time. Oddly, her own body became the final thing she was aware of. She remembers a night in her own bed, wearing nothing but her own skin. Emma stroked and touched every part of her presence; her arms, her stomach, her face, her thighs, her genitals and she discovered what these separate parts really felt like to her, what they were capable of experiencing and giving. Right now, she was experiencing this with another presence -- as she tasted Nick's stomach. She could read his nervousness, his excitement, his sincerity. Just as she knew he could read her own nervousness, excitement, sincerity. Emma drifted back to him as slowly as a feathers descent, as a breath against a face, and as she breathed, she adjusted her thighs to unite with his own. "You really didn't want to go home, didn't you??", Emma asked. "Wellll.... no!", he admits as he slides his hands across her back. She kisses him. "Thanks for this night...... it was wonderful. Please don't feel guilty about it.... it's a beautiful thing--between two people. If it is done beautifully, and with care...... it shouldn't matter. We're friends, we like each other. That's all that counts." "Don't worry..... I'm starting to agree with you!!" Their bodies danced together as one. The two looked into each others deep, ecstatic, complicated faces, as they moved together, slowly, deeply. She was worried that he would break beneath her passion. He felt that he could go completely inside her and stay there in her comforting presence. They both moaned and sighed honestly, their breath cooling off each other's faces. Their orgasms were real, more than just a mechanical release, but with a feeling that this was a lovely experience, an emotion they can both relate to. As their bodies released their final passion, Nick's semen leaked from him, mixing with the liquid from Emma's own genitals. The two could feel it sticking to their inner thighs, as the paint of art stuck to an unsuspecting craftsperson. One may at first recoil, then realize that such seemingly basic material is the basis for the creation of such beauty and invention and emotion. 5 Together they were, resting comfortably on Emma's bed. Emma had rolled over on to her stomach and rested on her elbows, letting her rumpled hairstrands fall from her head like a fountain of water across her back and shoulders. Nick, on the other hand, had only the energy to turn his face towards her. "So...", Emma began, "I had a nice night, how about you?", before letting out a little chuckle. "Yea, Emma, ... I did enjoy myself." "I hope that we can do this again someday.... I can't say that we'd be known as boyfriend and girlfriend, though... at least not right at this moment." "Even after all this...? "Well... we had fun, didn't we... that's all that matters right now.. I think!" "Well, I suppose it could be worse." "Oh, by the way, I got a real job, now.", restyling her train of thought, "I started work at KFC a few days ago." "Gee, I thought the other day you were telling me that I pissed my money away at those places....and now.." "Now I want it!", she cheered. "Besides, I'm not needed anymore at the art class. At least not until next year." "Hey-- we should hang out more often and compare our artistic progress.", Nick believed. "Sure, but I think you may be a bit ahead of me right now, so I'll always be behind you." "Did you do the life drawing yet?" "No, I didn't but..", touching Nick's arm,".. we're always in need of volunteers..!" Against his better judgement, against what he discovered through Emma, all Nick could do was blush and let out a squirm of a laugh, a laugh that echoed throughout many ages and places.
Copyright © 2002 David MacDonald |