Hi everyone!
Before I begin, I have to take a second to say something...
I'M BACK HOME FOR THANKSGIVING BREAK!!!
I arrived yesterday afternoon after a long train ride from the city. As I write this post, I'm currently sitting on the couch in my living room with a warm blanket wrapped around my legs. A rerun of "Chopped" is on, and my cat is in the other room, waiting for me to come play with him. I couldn't be happier that this is how my night is going. It's such a great feeling knowing that I'll be back in upstate New York for the rest of the week, and that I'll get some time to relax and be with my family.
Taking some time off to recharge is exactly what I need right now, considering this past week in the city was CRAZY! I did two substitute teaching jobs, an audition, and modeled every single day before I came home. I'm sore in places I didn't know could get sore, and my energy is at an all time low. But in spite of this, I'm happy with everything that happened during my modeling sessions this past week.
If there's one thing I've learned over the past few days, it's that when you model seven days in a row, it can be hard to come up with different poses each time you're at work. For example, I was in a class this past week which met Monday through Friday. While the total number of students did change from night to night, most of the same pupils showed up for each session. Since I had a lot of the same people drawing me each time I modeled, I didn't want to get stuck in the pattern of doing the same poses each time I was on the stand. How did I solve this dilemma? By using some things I like to call "objects and space" in my poses. (See what I did there?)
Before each class started, the instructor brought out a few things that I could use in my poses. Chairs, stools, and a long, wooden rod were among the object present. The first few nights I modeled, I didn't use any of these things in my poses, mostly because I had no idea what to do with them. In the past, I've felt more comfortable just posing with my body, because I tend have a better sense of how to position myself when I don't have to worry about using an object in a creative way.
But as the week went on, I started to wonder more about using the props in my poses. I also was reminded of all the theatre classes I'd taken in the past. Exercises where I had to use props in a new and creative way came to mind. Think of the "Props" segment on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" only much more still and much less raunchy. So, I decided to take a chance one night and use one of the objects I'd been given.
Turns out this was something I should have done a long time ago, because I had a lot of fun figuring out how to use the props I had in my poses. The first thing I grabbed was the long wooden rod. I slung my arms over it and tilted to the side a bit, kind of like a scarecrow. After that, my imagination went wild and I used the rod as a bunch of different things. A baseball bat, a broom, a fishing rod, and even a javelin. I found out pretty fast that only did this make my poses more interesting, but it helped me focus my mind in a new way. As I posed, I started to think up stories based on the positions I was in. For example, the "broom pose" inspired a Cinderella-esque story about a poor, young maiden living in the Renaissance era, trying to clean her home. Not only did this make the time go by faster, but it also made me feel like I was back in those theatre classes again. If you know me, you probably know just how happy this made me feel.
I also modeled in another class this week where I was instructed to use the wall behind me in my shorter poses. To be honest, I went a little wild with this direction. I ended up doing things like clawing the wall, extending and pressing my arms into it, and wrapping myself around the corners. I felt very much like the woman in "The Yellow Wallpaper."
"I've gotten out at last,...in spite of you and Jane?"
Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with these poses. Getting to use my acting abilities while I modeled was tons of fun. I can only hope that I'll get to do something like this again sometime soon. Who knows? Maybe I'll write down one of the stories that runs through my head and post it on here.
Now that my work week is over, though, I'm soaking up every moment of rest I have before I return to the city. Hopefully this will help me get over the cold I caught over the weekend. That, taking naps, and eating plenty of Thanksgiving food with my family sound like the perfect cure! Don't you agree?
See you soon!
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Sunday, November 11, 2018
On Posing Nude
Hi everyone!
Fair warning before you keep reading; the following post gets a little ranty.
When I tell people I'm an art model, I tend to get a lot of questions about what my job entails. Sometimes, I get asked about how long I've been modeling for, how much my job pays, or how I got started with modeling in the first place. But the number one question that always seems to pop up when I mention I’m an art model is this:
"Do you pose nude?"
After I confirm that I do often pose nude, this is usually followed by a series of other questions:
“What’s it like to pose naked?”
“Is it weird?”
“Do you ever feel uncomfortable?”
“Do you ever feel objectified or unsafe?”
I know I've touched on this in previous posts, but I figured it was high time I tackled this topic in depth.
If I can be one hundred percent honest here, the question of "Do you pose nude?" tends to get a little old. I get it though. There aren't too many professions where being naked for extend periods of time is a large part of the job. I don't mind it when people ask me about what it's like. Really, I don’t. I know I had the same questions running through my mind before I became an art model, and I’m happy to offer my input. It's just that I would rather have people ask me questions like:
"How do you stay still for twenty minutes at a time?”
“Do you do anything special to maintain your physical strength for modeling?
“Do you have any funny or interesting stories from a modeling session?"
I personally feel like those kind of questions are more fun and interesting to answer rather than "Do you pose nude?" But, as promised, I am going to talk about what that’s like.
Remember in my last post I mentioned how art modeling has helped me feel more confident about myself, and how that applies to the performing world? Well, the inverse is true as well. Granted, I’ve never done a show where I’ve had to be onstage naked. But I have done plenty of live performances for large crowds where I’ve worn skin tight, revealing clothing. I think this helped me get into the right mindset and developed the confidence I needed before I started booking modeling sessions.
I’ve also said this before, but I’ll say it again. Most of the time when I model, I don't even think about the fact that I’m posing nude for a bunch of people. Sometimes, I even forget that I’m not wearing anything because I’m more focused on holding the pose I’m in. The only times I really think about being disrobed is right when I take off my robe (see what I did there?) and right when I put it on. After that, it’s all about the work. Posing nude is just a part of my job, like how politicians speak in front of crowds or how scientists mix chemicals. I just do it and don’t think about it too much.
This brings me to another point I’d like to make. I have never felt objectified or unsafe in any of my modeling sessions. Quite the opposite, actually. All the instructors I’ve worked with have not only been professional, but also very kind and considerate. Whenever I model, the instructor always makes it clear that my safety and level of comfort are paramount. Sometimes, the instructors will offer to give me padding (mats and blankets) to make my poses less physically taxing, or offer to turn on a fan or heater if the room’s temperature isn’t quite right. The instructors I’ve worked with also always give a heads up if they need to tape out my pose before getting close to me.
I think I should also say that instructors don’t touch their models. If an adjustment needs to be made, they’ll tell the model something like “Bring your arm in more” or “Move you right foot back a little.” The model makes changes from their, adjusting their pose depending on what the class needs. Speaking of which, all the students I’ve worked with have been great, too. No one that has painted, drawn, or sculpted me has made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. The students are just as professional as the teachers, and both parties are equally nice and supportive. Most of them have been more than willing to show me their work to me, which I always love seeing. No one has ever made a crass comment to me, and I always feel a personal sense of ease when I'm working.
Finally, I want to bring up one last point. I know that when it comes to nudity, our minds tend to jump towards the sexual realm. And you know what? That’s perfectly okay and normal. We’re all humans, we all have eyes and a brain, and we’re all capable of feeling arousal when we see a naked body. But along with the many life lessons I’ve learned from art modeling, I’ve also learned that nudity doesn’t always equate to being sexual.
There are plenty of famous works of art that feature a complete nude subject (Michelangelo's David or Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, for example.) In those works, the naked body isn't depicted as something erotic or vulgar. It's shown as something to be celebrated and revered. And that's just it. The main purpose of an art model is to help artists understand the physical makeup of the human body. When an artist sees an unclothed body, it makes it easier to understand the human anatomy and capture it in their work. I feel more than happy to help contribute to this process.
So there you have it. I hope this helped clear up any questions you might have had about this subject. As always, if you have any other questions you'd like to ask me, please don't hesitate to leave a comment below!
See you soon!
Fair warning before you keep reading; the following post gets a little ranty.
When I tell people I'm an art model, I tend to get a lot of questions about what my job entails. Sometimes, I get asked about how long I've been modeling for, how much my job pays, or how I got started with modeling in the first place. But the number one question that always seems to pop up when I mention I’m an art model is this:
"Do you pose nude?"
After I confirm that I do often pose nude, this is usually followed by a series of other questions:
“What’s it like to pose naked?”
“Is it weird?”
“Do you ever feel uncomfortable?”
“Do you ever feel objectified or unsafe?”
I know I've touched on this in previous posts, but I figured it was high time I tackled this topic in depth.
If I can be one hundred percent honest here, the question of "Do you pose nude?" tends to get a little old. I get it though. There aren't too many professions where being naked for extend periods of time is a large part of the job. I don't mind it when people ask me about what it's like. Really, I don’t. I know I had the same questions running through my mind before I became an art model, and I’m happy to offer my input. It's just that I would rather have people ask me questions like:
"How do you stay still for twenty minutes at a time?”
“Do you do anything special to maintain your physical strength for modeling?
“Do you have any funny or interesting stories from a modeling session?"
I personally feel like those kind of questions are more fun and interesting to answer rather than "Do you pose nude?" But, as promised, I am going to talk about what that’s like.
Remember in my last post I mentioned how art modeling has helped me feel more confident about myself, and how that applies to the performing world? Well, the inverse is true as well. Granted, I’ve never done a show where I’ve had to be onstage naked. But I have done plenty of live performances for large crowds where I’ve worn skin tight, revealing clothing. I think this helped me get into the right mindset and developed the confidence I needed before I started booking modeling sessions.
I’ve also said this before, but I’ll say it again. Most of the time when I model, I don't even think about the fact that I’m posing nude for a bunch of people. Sometimes, I even forget that I’m not wearing anything because I’m more focused on holding the pose I’m in. The only times I really think about being disrobed is right when I take off my robe (see what I did there?) and right when I put it on. After that, it’s all about the work. Posing nude is just a part of my job, like how politicians speak in front of crowds or how scientists mix chemicals. I just do it and don’t think about it too much.
This brings me to another point I’d like to make. I have never felt objectified or unsafe in any of my modeling sessions. Quite the opposite, actually. All the instructors I’ve worked with have not only been professional, but also very kind and considerate. Whenever I model, the instructor always makes it clear that my safety and level of comfort are paramount. Sometimes, the instructors will offer to give me padding (mats and blankets) to make my poses less physically taxing, or offer to turn on a fan or heater if the room’s temperature isn’t quite right. The instructors I’ve worked with also always give a heads up if they need to tape out my pose before getting close to me.
I think I should also say that instructors don’t touch their models. If an adjustment needs to be made, they’ll tell the model something like “Bring your arm in more” or “Move you right foot back a little.” The model makes changes from their, adjusting their pose depending on what the class needs. Speaking of which, all the students I’ve worked with have been great, too. No one that has painted, drawn, or sculpted me has made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. The students are just as professional as the teachers, and both parties are equally nice and supportive. Most of them have been more than willing to show me their work to me, which I always love seeing. No one has ever made a crass comment to me, and I always feel a personal sense of ease when I'm working.
Finally, I want to bring up one last point. I know that when it comes to nudity, our minds tend to jump towards the sexual realm. And you know what? That’s perfectly okay and normal. We’re all humans, we all have eyes and a brain, and we’re all capable of feeling arousal when we see a naked body. But along with the many life lessons I’ve learned from art modeling, I’ve also learned that nudity doesn’t always equate to being sexual.
There are plenty of famous works of art that feature a complete nude subject (Michelangelo's David or Botticelli's The Birth of Venus, for example.) In those works, the naked body isn't depicted as something erotic or vulgar. It's shown as something to be celebrated and revered. And that's just it. The main purpose of an art model is to help artists understand the physical makeup of the human body. When an artist sees an unclothed body, it makes it easier to understand the human anatomy and capture it in their work. I feel more than happy to help contribute to this process.
So there you have it. I hope this helped clear up any questions you might have had about this subject. As always, if you have any other questions you'd like to ask me, please don't hesitate to leave a comment below!
See you soon!
Thursday, November 8, 2018
A Life Lesson from Art Modeling
Hi everyone!
Today's entry is a bit different from my usual posts. Instead of telling you all about my most recent modeling endeavor, I want to take a second and write about something I've been mulling over the past few weeks. To be honest, this post took me a longer time to write than I originally expected. I struggled to find the words I wanted to use to express my feelings about this topic. After a lot of soul searching, though, I think I've found the right ones. But before I write more about today's topic, I want to share a story with all of you.
When I was in high school, I remember trying to write a poem about wanting to be a painting. It started out fine enough. I wrote sentences about being "immortalized on canvas" and all the other dramatic words and phrases I could think of. But being the emotional and somewhat angsty teenager I was, the poem took a dark turn. I went on to say that "harsh is the reality I see in the mirror" and that "I'll never be a painting." To summarize:
"I feel ugly and need a hug because I'm an emotional sixteen year old girl."
I can laugh about it now, but at the time, this would have been anything but funny to me.
Like a lot of people, I've struggled with my self image. I'd also be lying if I said that being in the performing world didn't play a part in this. As much as I love being an actress and want to keep doing theatre for the rest of my life, there's a harsh truth every performer learns when they start trying to make a career out of their passion. That harsh truth would be that how you physically look plays a huge part in whether or not you get hired, sometimes even more that your talent.
One of the biggest issues I've had over my appearance is my height. I'm five feet tall, but some days, I feel even shorter than that. It's not just a matter of people making short jokes or using me as a human arm rest (although this is plenty annoying.) If there's one thing I've learned about being a short woman, it's that people often mistake you for being much younger than you actually are. You wouldn't think this would be much of an issue, but it is. I can't tell you the number of times I've felt like someone treated me like a child because I didn't "look old enough" to be a young adult. It gets frustrating pretty fast, not to mention a little more that degrading.
But the "perks" of being short don't end there. I know deep in my heart that I am not fat. Really, I do. I know have a lot of physical strength from doing taking dance classes, doing Pilates, and practicing yoga over the years, particularly in my legs. However, a lot of my friends who are five foot two or shorter will agree with me when I say this. Being smaller in stature tends to create a stockier look as you gain muscle, especially in the lower body area, which creates the illusion of being overweight. I can't tell you how many times I've looked at my lower stomach or legs in the mirror and thought how big and chubby they were, sometimes to the point of tears.
It's not just my height, though, that I'm insecure about. When I was younger, I couldn't stand my curly hair. I hated how frizzy it was and how I felt like I couldn't style it any attractive ways. But after I straightened it for the first time, I started getting a lot of compliments about how pretty it looked, some of which came from previous bullies. So, I started straightening my hair as much as I could, sometimes getting up before 5am to style it. This went on for a few years...until I realized how damaged my hair was getting. I eventually learned how to style my curls so my hair wouldn't look like a tumbleweed, but I still had (and still have) my deep insecurities about it.
Lastly, I've never felt confident about my skin. I think I've experienced every kind of acne known to man. Pimples, whiteheads, blackheads, cysts. You name it, I've had it. I remember getting bullied so frequently for this during my teenage years that I felt like more people were staring at my acne than looking at my face. It got to the point where I decided no to maintain eye contact with anyone I talked to. That way, I could make sure that no one could stare at my acne and find cause to make fun of me. To this day, I still have trouble making eye contact with people for this very same reason.
With all that said, it’s more than a little ironic that I’m now in a line of work that focuses so much on physical appearance. But here’s the thing; art modeling isn’t just about “looking good.” It’s not about being stick thin, having your hair and makeup perfectly done, or strutting down a runway. It’s also not about trying to create an ideal image for everyone to see.
Art modeling is about being creative and inventive in each pose you do. It’s about being physically and mentally strong enough to be still for up to twenty minutes at a time. It’s about figuring out what your body is capable of, accepting your limits, and utilizing your strengths. And most importantly, it’s about understanding that people will see you in a thousand different ways, no matter how you
spin it.
I remember after my very first modeling, I was nervous to look at the drawings the students had done. My fears of looking fat and ugly were strong, but my feelings of curiousity were stronger. So I mustered up the courage to see their work...and was completely taken aback by what I saw. Instead of looking like an awkward, chubby girl like I feared, my body looked graceful and womanly. All of my “problem areas” didn’t seem problematic at all. In fact, I barely even noticed them. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I walked out of the class feeling more beautiful and confident than I had felt in a long time.
I wish I could say that this experience made all my insecurities go away, and that every time I looked at another drawing or painting of me, I felt the same sense of joy and confidence. But the truth is, it didn’t. I still have plenty of days where I feel like my sixteen year old self again and the last thing I want to do is look in the mirror. I also have moments where I see a student’s artwork of me and have thoughts like “Do I really look that fat and ugly?” (Through no fault of their own, mind you.)
But then there are moments when I’m in a modeling session and I receive a compliment from the students or instructor about my appearance. Compliments like:
"Look at her hair. It reminds me of a Roman goddess."
"You have such an interesting face to draw."
"You're so beautiful, and you're a great model."
It's these compliments that make me realize that the parts of myself I don't necessarily like are what make me interesting as an art model. It's also these compliments that remind me that I'm good at what I do. Yes, because I'm a hard worker, have creative ideas about how to pose, and can hold still for a long time. But also because I am me, and all that entails. And that makes it all worth it in the end.
I firmly believe that self-love and confidence are journeys, rather than destinations. I also firmly believe that they're not easy journeys to go on, and that they're often filled with doubt and disappointment. But the beautiful thing about that is for every bullying remark or hurtful comment, there's also kind words and a heartfelt compliment to match them. Being an art model has taught me that. It's also taught me to be braver and more secure in my body, even if I don't always feel that way.
And finally, it's taught me that I can be a painting (and a drawing, and a sculpture.). And that all of works of art, flaws and all, can be captivating and beautiful. <3
See you soon!
Today's entry is a bit different from my usual posts. Instead of telling you all about my most recent modeling endeavor, I want to take a second and write about something I've been mulling over the past few weeks. To be honest, this post took me a longer time to write than I originally expected. I struggled to find the words I wanted to use to express my feelings about this topic. After a lot of soul searching, though, I think I've found the right ones. But before I write more about today's topic, I want to share a story with all of you.
When I was in high school, I remember trying to write a poem about wanting to be a painting. It started out fine enough. I wrote sentences about being "immortalized on canvas" and all the other dramatic words and phrases I could think of. But being the emotional and somewhat angsty teenager I was, the poem took a dark turn. I went on to say that "harsh is the reality I see in the mirror" and that "I'll never be a painting." To summarize:
"I feel ugly and need a hug because I'm an emotional sixteen year old girl."
I can laugh about it now, but at the time, this would have been anything but funny to me.
Like a lot of people, I've struggled with my self image. I'd also be lying if I said that being in the performing world didn't play a part in this. As much as I love being an actress and want to keep doing theatre for the rest of my life, there's a harsh truth every performer learns when they start trying to make a career out of their passion. That harsh truth would be that how you physically look plays a huge part in whether or not you get hired, sometimes even more that your talent.
One of the biggest issues I've had over my appearance is my height. I'm five feet tall, but some days, I feel even shorter than that. It's not just a matter of people making short jokes or using me as a human arm rest (although this is plenty annoying.) If there's one thing I've learned about being a short woman, it's that people often mistake you for being much younger than you actually are. You wouldn't think this would be much of an issue, but it is. I can't tell you the number of times I've felt like someone treated me like a child because I didn't "look old enough" to be a young adult. It gets frustrating pretty fast, not to mention a little more that degrading.
But the "perks" of being short don't end there. I know deep in my heart that I am not fat. Really, I do. I know have a lot of physical strength from doing taking dance classes, doing Pilates, and practicing yoga over the years, particularly in my legs. However, a lot of my friends who are five foot two or shorter will agree with me when I say this. Being smaller in stature tends to create a stockier look as you gain muscle, especially in the lower body area, which creates the illusion of being overweight. I can't tell you how many times I've looked at my lower stomach or legs in the mirror and thought how big and chubby they were, sometimes to the point of tears.
It's not just my height, though, that I'm insecure about. When I was younger, I couldn't stand my curly hair. I hated how frizzy it was and how I felt like I couldn't style it any attractive ways. But after I straightened it for the first time, I started getting a lot of compliments about how pretty it looked, some of which came from previous bullies. So, I started straightening my hair as much as I could, sometimes getting up before 5am to style it. This went on for a few years...until I realized how damaged my hair was getting. I eventually learned how to style my curls so my hair wouldn't look like a tumbleweed, but I still had (and still have) my deep insecurities about it.
Lastly, I've never felt confident about my skin. I think I've experienced every kind of acne known to man. Pimples, whiteheads, blackheads, cysts. You name it, I've had it. I remember getting bullied so frequently for this during my teenage years that I felt like more people were staring at my acne than looking at my face. It got to the point where I decided no to maintain eye contact with anyone I talked to. That way, I could make sure that no one could stare at my acne and find cause to make fun of me. To this day, I still have trouble making eye contact with people for this very same reason.
With all that said, it’s more than a little ironic that I’m now in a line of work that focuses so much on physical appearance. But here’s the thing; art modeling isn’t just about “looking good.” It’s not about being stick thin, having your hair and makeup perfectly done, or strutting down a runway. It’s also not about trying to create an ideal image for everyone to see.
Art modeling is about being creative and inventive in each pose you do. It’s about being physically and mentally strong enough to be still for up to twenty minutes at a time. It’s about figuring out what your body is capable of, accepting your limits, and utilizing your strengths. And most importantly, it’s about understanding that people will see you in a thousand different ways, no matter how you
spin it.
I remember after my very first modeling, I was nervous to look at the drawings the students had done. My fears of looking fat and ugly were strong, but my feelings of curiousity were stronger. So I mustered up the courage to see their work...and was completely taken aback by what I saw. Instead of looking like an awkward, chubby girl like I feared, my body looked graceful and womanly. All of my “problem areas” didn’t seem problematic at all. In fact, I barely even noticed them. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I walked out of the class feeling more beautiful and confident than I had felt in a long time.
I wish I could say that this experience made all my insecurities go away, and that every time I looked at another drawing or painting of me, I felt the same sense of joy and confidence. But the truth is, it didn’t. I still have plenty of days where I feel like my sixteen year old self again and the last thing I want to do is look in the mirror. I also have moments where I see a student’s artwork of me and have thoughts like “Do I really look that fat and ugly?” (Through no fault of their own, mind you.)
But then there are moments when I’m in a modeling session and I receive a compliment from the students or instructor about my appearance. Compliments like:
"Look at her hair. It reminds me of a Roman goddess."
"You have such an interesting face to draw."
"You're so beautiful, and you're a great model."
It's these compliments that make me realize that the parts of myself I don't necessarily like are what make me interesting as an art model. It's also these compliments that remind me that I'm good at what I do. Yes, because I'm a hard worker, have creative ideas about how to pose, and can hold still for a long time. But also because I am me, and all that entails. And that makes it all worth it in the end.
I firmly believe that self-love and confidence are journeys, rather than destinations. I also firmly believe that they're not easy journeys to go on, and that they're often filled with doubt and disappointment. But the beautiful thing about that is for every bullying remark or hurtful comment, there's also kind words and a heartfelt compliment to match them. Being an art model has taught me that. It's also taught me to be braver and more secure in my body, even if I don't always feel that way.
And finally, it's taught me that I can be a painting (and a drawing, and a sculpture.). And that all of works of art, flaws and all, can be captivating and beautiful. <3
See you soon!
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