Temporary insanity or personal growth?

Pregnancy is making me do all kinds of things I never thought I would do. In the last few months I've developed a tendency to cry over stray puppies and random songs on the radio. In a couple more months, I'll probably poop on the delivery table in a room full of people. These are strange times indeed. One of the strangest things I've done while pregnant is probably my recent gig as a figure model. Insecure, fat-assed me is moonlighting as a model for artists and art students to practice drawing the human figure. Nude.

Don't worry, no images with this post. :-)

I know this is a topic that doesn't fit under my blog's intended purpose of sharing projects I make. I'm writing about it because it has been surprisingly rewarding and creatively demanding, just like my more tangible projects . I've never done anything like this, and I probably won't do it when I'm no longer pregnant. I'm pretty sure my pregnant self is not exactly the same as my pre-pregnant self. I'm guessing my post-pregnant perspective will be different too, but I doubt that I will regret the experience or sharing this summary of my thoughts about it.

Here's what I've learned about figure modeling:

- It's not about being attractive, it's about giving artists something real and interesting to draw. That means bodies with character are preferred - unlike the bland, interchangeable youthful perfection of commercial models. Lumpy, wrinkly, saggy, hairy, whatever! That's just more opportunity for the artist to develop the skill of capturing details of the human form on paper. Don't believe me? Look at any books on "life drawing" or "figure drawing". The memorable sketches are often the ones with wrinkly skin, or dreadlocks, or "non-ideal" proportion and mass. And the poses are definitely not vulgar or intended to incite lust. Figure drawing is more like a basic anatomy class for artists to learn and practice drawing the proportions of the human body. It's about drawing believable 2-D images of 3-D reality, not inciting libidinous fantasy.

- Pregnant models are in demand! Who knew? Being hugely pregnant automatically made my body interesting enough to get the job (actually, jobs at two different schools for a total of 4 sessions so far), without submitting any pictures or auditioning or having previous experience. A few hours one night a week at $15-20/hour isn't a ton of money, but it covers a few maternity outfits. Regardless of the money, the experience has been eye-opening and very positive. The artists thank me for posing, or tell me I was really fun to draw. One of the instructors said he appreciated that he didn't have to tell me how to pose, and that he was impressed with my ability to hold a challenging pose for such a long time.

- I'm glad I did it while pregnant, because my body is nearly exempt from (self-)criticism. For once in my life, my body is exempt from my internal dialogue and aesthetic critique. The baby is healthy and I'm healthy enough to deliver him, so my body is as close to perfect as it will ever be, regardless of what it looks like. My shape has almost nothing to do with my diet or exercise habits, or being genetically doomed to be pear-shaped. My body has been taken over by a little alien that has caused all kinds of changes in size, shape and skin. It looks this way because it is performing a normal, healthy function. My thunder thighs look purposeful and proportionate now. My abs are the tightest they will ever be, and I didn't have to work out at all! I feel like I'm wearing a pregnant suit over my normal body, so I don't feel totally exposed even when I'm naked. After Henry arrives the flab will be all mine, but for now I'm wearing this pregnancy like a fat suit for a movie role. (Is it still denial if you're fully aware of your self-deception?)

- Standing naked in the center of a room full of artists is not creepy. Really. Sure, the moment when I had to step out of my robe for the first time made me a little anxious, but after that it was no big deal. The atmosphere is very quiet and relaxed and absolutely devoid of body judgment. I typically feel (imagine?) more silent body-snarking judgment on a stroll through the mall than I felt when I was naked under lights in the middle of the studio for the first time. The artists were obviously concentrating intently on getting their lines and shading right, and not looking at me like a piece of meat to be evaluated and compared to some supposed ideal of beauty.

- Posing is not just standing around. A typical session starts with a series of 1 to 2 minute poses, mostly standing up. No one tells the model how to pose, so I have to make it up as I go along. I try to use asymmetry to make interesting angles and curves for the artists to draw. It's tricky because the artists are arranged in a circle or semi-circle, so each one has a slightly different view of the same pose (link only slightly NSFW). I also try to make sure that no one gets the same side of me all the time. I found this book (link totally safe for work) at the library very helpful for preparing to pose. I also flipped through a couple of books in the art section of a big bookstore to get ideas about what makes a good pose. (FYI: Holding a book full of nude sketches in the bookstore may cause creepy dudes to hit on you, even if you are obviously pregnant, married, and tired. Use that information as you see fit!) There are so many ways to pose without being vulgar - and my belly makes such a shadow - that I stopped worrying about fuzzy/pink bits being exposed. I'm no expert, but I think it all comes down to asymmetry, twisting the shoulders/spine/hips to create dimension and muscle tension from any angle, looking comfortable, and an effort to show a gracefully long neck. It's much easier to do all those things for a two minute pose than a 40 minute pose!

- It's great to see the sketches, even from the less-skilled artists. During the breaks I put my robe back on and wander around the studio to see the sketches. The choices the artist makes when filtering or emphasizing details make each sketch fascinating, especially when compared to others in the group. Unlike a photograph, the artist makes a thousand tiny decisions about what to put on the paper and what to leave out. My outie belly button and my odd hairline showed up in almost every sketch, while other unique features were barely represented, even in the longer poses. Sketches are especially flattering because the skin imperfections and frizzy hair that are cringe-worthy in a photograph are automatically filtered out by the artist. My favorite sketches so far are usually done in charcoal, because it makes it easier for the artist to represent volume through shading and tone instead of just line work and cross-hatching. Art students practice drawing still-lifes of spheres and other pure geometric forms to get the shading right. My tight round belly gives them a perfect chance to show their skills, or at least practice their developing skills. Sure, many of the artists have trouble getting the hands and feet right, and most of the eyes are downright scary. You couldn't pick me out of a line-up based on most of the sketches, but it's still amazing how much can be captured by a few quick marks on paper.

- Burt's Bees Radiance Body Lotion makes me glow under the lights. Do I need more glow? No. Are any of the artists going to have the time, the right medium or the skill to capture my light-reflecting glow? Probably not. I do it for the same reason I put on a little concealer, powder, tinted lip balm and extra deodorant. When you're wearing the emperor's new clothes it's nice to wear a little armor too, even if it's only psychological.

To try figure modeling, contact the art department at a college or university directly. I'm sure you will find it much more rewarding and less weird than you expect it to be.