I Draw Naked People

When I was 16 years old, I was accepted into a summer art program at the Cooper Union in NYC. I didn't know it at the time, but the Cooper Union is a prestigious arts and engineering college and the chances of my acceptance were actually pretty slim considering the competition and being an out of state student (the program was geared for NYC kids). In any case, by some miracle I got in and this is where I was first exposed to “artists.” Before this, my only exposure to artists was my high school art teacher, but he didn't seem to count. The instructors at the Cooper Union wore black jeans decorated with safety pins, had unkempt tie dyed hair, and just had something a bit “off” to their personality. They lived and breathed and died for their art. Me? I just came to draw pretty pictures.

The curriculum of the program covered a variety of mediums: sculpture, graphic design, contemporary art appreciation, and my favorite, drawing. While the other mediums were new to me, I knew I could draw better than your above-average bear. My portfolio was full of portraits, landscapes, and other high school-safe topics. So imagine my surprise when on the first day of drawing class, I walked into the room to find not one, but two naked models. Completely. Naked. The rest of the class didn't seem fazed by the day’s subjects, so I assumed they had experience drawing from live nude models. I tried not to gawk, but this was my first time seeing a living, breathing, adult-sized penis. That’s what they really look like?? Gross…

The instructor had us set up in a semi circle around the models. Were they going to pose frozen in lewd acts?? What the hell was going on here?! I scanned my fellow classmates again to see if anyone was as horrified as I was. They all looked like calm little cucumbers setting up their easels and newsprint pads. I tried harder to control my eyebrows.

The instructor explained that we would be working on gestures – drawing a series of poses done by the models in a short amount of time. Every minute a timer would set off, the models would change their pose, and we would have to start a new drawing. Gesture drawing is particularly useful for artists studying the human body since models can hold complex and strenuous poses (which express movement and emphasize the muscles) if it’s only for a short period of time.

While we were drawing, the instructor came around to each student, standing while giving his critique. When he got to me, he pulled up a chair. I guess he had a lot to say.

“Her legs are too stiff, and you gave her a pregnant belly. She’s not fat. And the proportion of his torso to his legs is off, see here? Focus on the line of the spine first, that will help you place the rest of the body. ”

Phew – at least he didn't mention that I castrated my male model and just gave him a scribble of pubic hair.

By the end of the morning session, though, I was really starting to enjoy the gesture drawing. It was surprising how much information I could capture in just one minute and the more practice I got, the easier it was to render the shape and proportion of the models. I started to see the man and woman as a series of familiar shapes and lines, not just limbs and genitalia. My improvement was noticeable and my instructor praised my work. “Good job, you started out a little rough, but these last few ones are very good.”

Today, live nude models are my favorite subject to draw. There is certain fluidity and rhythm to drawing the human body that just doesn't happen when drawing inanimate objects. My favorite studio in NYC is the Spring Street Studio, where you can draw or paint naked people three times a day, seven days a week. I’d still rather draw women than men – women have softer lines and make for prettier finished products. I mean, who wants to hang up a giant drawing of a dude’s wang on their wall? Although, I must say, I have gotten much better at capturing the male figure. (It took me a while to figure out that while a woman is shaped like an hour glass, a man is shaped like an upside down triangle.) I once showed Mr. S my drawing of a nude male model that I was particularly proud of, and his observation was, “Looks like you spent too much time on that penis...” I have to admit, it was a very good penis.

I ran into a pole this morning #tbt

Welcome to my two part throwback Thursday series (that's what #tbt stands for Mom). I'm reviving some stories from years past that I shared with friends via e-mail. Actually, these e-mails are the ancestors to my blog. When I blog now, I pretend that I'm still writing e-mails to my good friends, updating them on my life and hopefully getting a few laughs along the way. I'm also reviving these stories because I have nothing new to talk about.

From: urban rice ball
Sent: Thursday, May 01, 2008 9:20 AM
To: my good friends
Subject: i ran into a pole this morning

what a way to start the day...

when we pulled up to the train station this morning, the train was already there so i had to make a run for it. i was wearing a trench coat and as i was running the belt was dragging behind me. so in my efforts to try to pick up my belt and make the train, i failed to see the pole coming at me. it wasn't coming at me -- i was coming at it. mind you, i didn't merely walk gently into it. i was running fast -- had to make that train -- so i hit it hard, bounced off, a little stunned, but nevertheless unscathed. i looked behind me to see if anyone saw...of course they did, everyone was running to the train too. the train was 5 minutes early -- that never happens! so anyway, i saw the pole out of the corner of my eye, and i knew i didn't have a enough time to slow down so i put up my arms to protect myself. my hand and arm hurt now, but there was no blood.

good news: i made the train.
bad news: my dad saw and called to laugh at me. he said the "no parking" sign on the pole was shaking after i hit it.

happy thursday.

The numbers don't lie

Shortly after we booked the wedding reception venue for our date in December I got a FaceTime call from my dad. My dad loves cell phone technology and will FaceTime at any opportunity he gets.

"Hi! Your mom wants to talk to you." 

My mom on the other hand is terrible with cell phones. She has an iPhone solely to take pictures and post to Facebook while on the go. Because of this I ended up FaceTiming with her nose. 

"It's a bad date!!! You picked a bad date!!! You have to change it!!!" 

It took me a while to figure out that it was her nose I was looking at. 

"What are you talking about??"

"The numerology of your wedding date! It's a bad number! You have to change it to November!!"

Surely someone else can explain the concept of the auspicious date much better than I can, but essentially the auspicious date refers to the luckiest or best date to do anything -- get married, buy a house, etc.  Depending on one's culture the auspicious date can be determined in a number of ways, including numerology. While I knew this was a thing in the Chinese culture, this was the first time I was hearing about it in my own. I knew my mom dabbled in numerology from time to time, but more so just for kicks. The numbers never played a part in selecting other milestone moments in our family's life, so imagine my surprise when this was suddenly a big deal.

I tried to get a better understanding of the situation. "How are you coming up with this? Are you sure you have our right birth dates? And who is your source? Because if it's Uncle R, he's not really an expert. Mr. S and I don't really believe in that stuff anyway so we should be fine." 

The nose spoke frantically, "NOOO!! Your number signifies hardship and struggle!! Do you really want your wedding to start off that way?!? Move it to November!!" 

Was she being serious?? 

"November costs $3,000 extra!" 

"Well if you ask me, that is a cheap price to pay for starting your marriage with the perfect number!!" 

Well then. "I don't trust your source. I will find my own." 

And with that I went to my authority on all things big and small - Google. Turns out there are lots of resources to explain numerology and how to select an auspicious wedding date. I happened upon one that was decorated with rainbows and butterflies and included an auspicious wedding date calculator. Obviously, the accountant in me felt right at home.

I entered our birth dates and wedding date into the little calculator which spit out this result: 6. That meant absolutely nothing to me, so good thing it had an explanation:

A personal year, month or day of 6 is a number of family, responsibility and the home. Of all the numbers in numerology this number is the most auspicious number for creating a home with someone, settling down and perhaps having a family too if that is important to you. Try to have a 6 in the personal date numbers of both the bride and groom when picking a date for a wedding. In Tarot's Major Arcana The Lovers is card number 6.

I zoned in on the key words -- family, creating a home, lovers. Looked good to me! In addition to all that, it told me that Mr. S and I have the same personal day and personal month numbers despite us having different birth dates. Again, meaningless to me, but matching numbers had to be a good sign!

I sent my findings to my mom expecting her to come back with a reason why my numerology website (which could have been published by My Little Pony for all I knew) was a bunch of bull. 

"Did you see what I sent you? It says our date is fine!" 

"Ok." 

I was silent for a few seconds, not really sure what was going on. 15 minutes ago her flared nostrils were telling me my future marriage was a future disaster and now all I was getting was an "Ok"??  If this was some reverse psychology shizz I wasn't falling for it. 

"Great, December Xth it is! Bye!" 

The numerology thing never came up again. Maybe during the time I was Googling she realized she had a mathematical error. Maybe she decided that My Little Pony was a better source than my Uncle R. I'll never know. And as long as we get to keep our bargain date, I don't really care!

Mawiage. Mawiage is what bwings us togethahh todayyy.

The Princess Bride is my favorite movie. When I was younger we had it on Beta Max. And then one day Beta Max became obsolete and replaced by VHS and I could no longer watch The Princess Bride whenever I wanted. It sucked.

Anyway, this post isn't about my favorite movies. It is yet again about the wedding. Bride brain…bride brain…bride braaaiiiin!!! Imagine I said that like a bride zombie, because really that’s what I've become.

Getting married in the Catholic Church was a given. Mr. S and I both grew up Catholic and have received all of our sacraments to date. Plus, I really like the tradition of getting married in church and repeating the vows that have married so many generations before us. So it shouldn't be a problem, right? Riiiiighhhtt…

To be married in the Catholic Church, one must be “a Catholic in good standing.” I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but considering Mr. S and I didn't attend church on a regular basis, weren't officially part of any parish, and have been living together in sin, I felt there was a good chance that we were actually “Catholics in very bad standing.” Throw into the mix that we are having our reception in Brooklyn and want the church to be relatively close to our reception location. This criterion pretty much narrowed the options down to one church. One.

I emailed the church rectory asking if they allowed non-parishioners to wed there, and the priest himself replied back saying that he does make exceptions. Allelujia! He added that before meeting we should attend mass at the church to see if we like the look and acoustics. The look and acoustics? They seemed like pretty odd details for a priest to point out, but I agreed that attending mass made sense. 

 
I've seen lots of churches in my life of all different types, and I've never been in one where I said, “Ugh, gross.” Needless to say, I didn't have any strong feelings about what the church should look like as long as there was an aisle for me to walk down. Maybe my low expectations contributed to my reaction, but when we walked into St. C, I got the feeling...similar to what a bride feels when she finds the dress, I had a feeling of this is the church where we are going to get married. 

 
The church is on the smaller side, which I love. I grew up attending a larger church where it felt like half the church was empty most weekends. St. C is done in a gothic style with dark wood, columns, and large stained glass windows throughout and behind the altar. This was a HUGE bonus to me. I was never a fan of saying my vows directly under a crucifix of a dying Jesus, but resigned myself to this fate since that’s how most churches decorate their altar. But with stained glass windows…I could already picture us being bathed in colored sunlight as we stood at the altar professing our everlasting love.* Princess Buttercup, eat your heart out.

My anxiety levels were up when we arrived the following week for our meeting with Father E -- this church was seemingly perfect for our wedding and what if he refused us for all the reasons that make us bad Catholics in bad standing?! We didn't even have a good excuse! Maybe we tell him that yes we live together, but we sleep in two separate twin beds? My dad goes to mass everyday…does that count for anything? Yes, I actually entertained all of these options, but in the end I decided that we couldn't lie to a priest. My co-worker had the best advice: Don’t lie, but don’t embellish either.

 
It turns out we had nothing to worry about. Father E is quite possibly the hippest priest I've ever met. He took great pride in telling us how he conducts his weddings so that the bride and groom get the perfect photo ops and was totally understanding about the co-habitating part, noting that rent in NYC is expensive.  Preach on Father, preach on! He even used curse words and the middle finger when telling us stories of his childhood. Mr. S and I were shocked! After the fantastic storytelling, Father E took down our information, asked us to provide baptismal certificates, and gave us information on Pre-Cana. He let us know that once Pre-Cana is complete, we could discuss further logistics of the day.

That pretty much sealed the deal. Up until this point, we were planning an elaborate party: reception venue, catering, flowers, music, etc. Now that we actually found someone to marry us, our little shindig is officially a wedding! 

* Reality check – that sunlight bit probably won’t happen as we are getting married on a December evening. We will probably be holding flashlights up there.