Nudes and sensuality

I still remember the first time I did life drawing. It was unexpected. I naively wandered into my college art room to discover a room full of students cowering behind easels and a naked man with his arm in the air. I vaguely recall dropping and breaking my charcoal several times. Awkward… embarrassing, and life changing.

I eventually stopped dropping pastels, or even flinching at the sight of a naked body. It became an essential part of my creative process. The fumbling, red faced art student discovered her niche that day. There is something inherently honest about a naked body. Regardless of gender, the openness of form reveals so much. People use clothing to sculpt and disguise themselves in a multitude of ways. It is an image that they get to choose. A naked body cannot pretend to be anything other than what it is.

I admire life models. They are courageous – they expose their vulnerability to artists like myself, trusting me to be kind. In return, I celebrated their sensuality. Through a combination of colour, form and line, I allowed their curves and peaceful sensuality to flow out onto rolls of brown paper.  I eventually ceased working with pastels, but they were a critical part of my development. They helped me explore what drives me. I learnt that life drawing is more than what I actually saw. It built a relationship with my subject where I could unleash the colours that lie within.