I was directed into a similar position as last time (weight on one leg, mostly straight, with the other slightly bent, and my hands clasped behind my back). Only this time, they had me look at the wall. Right into the eyes of the clock. So that I could see how slow time could be.
For every 20 minutes of being a statue, I got 5 minutes of freedom.
The first 20 were gruesome. After that it was still not pleasant, but I began to get creative with ways to entertain myself. Standing still for 2 hours is extremely boring! If you are going to figure model, you need to come with an abundance of thinking material.
I had several strategies.
I made up stories and personalities for the artists:
First was Jill, a smack-in-the-middle-of-her-50s woman with short blonde hair. I started to hate Jill as she continuously left the room, taunting me with her freedom of movement. She wasn’t too impressed with me, either, I don’t think, because she left half way through.
Next to Jill was Patrick, a 20-something young blonde. From Utah (and never having left), he is content to live in his parents basement while working full time at Target. In his spare time, Patrick loves playing basketball. And when he’s not playing video games with her (often), Patrick is having sexy times (not so often) with his 2 year girlfriend, whom he met on the internet. Sh is a great lover of cats and role play.
Then there was Steve, a middle-aged bachelor with a dad-style fashion. He wore sunglasses, a mustache, big white dad-sneakers (velcro) and dad jeans. Steve lives in an apartment alone. He’s been bored with his after work tv dinner routine and saw a flyer for the art class. At least there will be naked chicks, he thought.
Brock lives at the studio and plans his great escape from Utah with all the passion and ambition of an evil mastermind scheming the world’s end. He is extremely bitter towards Mormons and everything Utah. He is also good at art. Probably the best in the class, and he knows it. He is in charge of recruiting the naked models, which is both a curse and a blessing.
Emily was the 20-something blonde girl. She was too boring to make up a story about, so I skipped her.
Trevor was a dark haired fellow in a leather jacket. He spent the first break napping in a chair with his arms folded. Trevor works nights and was exhausted. After the second break, he didn’t come back and remained napping through the wonder of my naked body until the very end.
Every time I accidentally caught the eyes of an artist, it gave me that awkward feeling like when you meet eyes with your hairdresser in the mirror accidentally, or your dentist–while they’re in your mouth.
My next strategy was singing camp songs. Thank you Girl Scout camp for all the memorable ones. My mental solo included such hits as We Call it Fun, Spider’s Web, Snap Crackle Pop, Old Lady Leery, What Can Make a Hippopotamus Smile, and Fred the Moose.
I also worked extensively with numbers. I started at 591 and counted backwards by 3’s. I went through all my times tables. I just plain counted.
My compensation for the class will probably feed me Taco Bell for an entire week, so I guess it was kind of worth it.
**Disclaimer to my mother and other paranoid and disapproving readers: There were no camera phones present and no pictures were taken. The only evidence that exists from this little adventure is a few sketches that vaguely capture my likeness, and it was hardly more scandalous than what Jack and Rose did in Titanic. Fairly certain my future is not ruined, but we’ll see.
mormisthenorm 