Tag: art

A slice of bread

Sometimes it really is the little things that count the most.  Today, I did some wonderfully awesome things.  I attended art class and mused over some amazing charcoal and pencil still-lifes coming to life; I taught traditionally silent and impassive kids to play charades, and to enjoy it; I played a bit of charades with some of those kids; I had lunch with a happy group of girls, while sitting barefoot in the wonderful and warm sunlight outdoors; I attended a master class on operatic vocal performance; I was given a private lesson in my first round of drawing with charcoal, and I did a decent job drawing; I had another personal lesson on how properly to put on a yukata and a kimono, and then did the yukata all by myself; I had tea and dinner with friends and acquaintances, and was given free amazing stuff to take home with me.

And yet, with all of that, the part f the day that stands out most to me, possibly as most fulfilling, even, was when I found myself spontaneously sitting on the floor with the two girls who had been teaching me to draw with charcoal, literally breaking bread together.  We were sitting and chatting and munching on a shared loaf of bread that we occasionally dipped in a bit of Bonne Mamman, enjoying ourselves completely.  We were silly and exhausted, and entirely content in one another’s company.  We knew we only had a short time for this little pause in the ever-forward movement of the day and its activities, and it was beautiful and blissful.  (And, funnily enough, it all happened, because the one girl had shown me her moldy bread earlier that she was using as a sort of eraser on her charcoal drawing, and I realized that I happened to have a fresh loaf of bread in my bag later on.)
Post-a-day 2017

Beautiful Bodies

The beauty of the human body never ceases to amaze me.  The soft, homey curves, combined with the strict, angled, edged lines… I am regularly in awe at the beauty of it all.

My mother was in a drawing class at the community college a decade or so ago, and they did sketching of live models.  I remember being in love with the charcoal-style outlines of these nude individuals.  I couldn’t tell if I wanted to be so talented as my mother, and be able to draw these beautiful bodies, or if I wanted to be so confident and free as the lady who easily sat for 45 minutes in a room full of people (and remember that these people were practically investigating her body from all angles), wearing nothing.  Truly, I think I wanted to be both.

And I still do.

In college, I almost got the nerve to ask about modeling for the art classes we had on campus.  I even asked someone about it, and found out that those who modeled were even paid.  For whatever reason, though, I never pursued it.  I think I might have been quaking with fright on the insides, merely at the consideration of speaking to the art professor about my potential desire to model.

Now, all I do is think every so often how I want to be in an art class, so that I eventually can make such beautiful art as my mother used to make, and then share it with the world…. and also gaze at it myself.  As of right now, I have several other things that come up more often as things I want to pursue, so I think I actually will pursue those… however, on second thought (more like thousandth thought),  I’ll make another go at finding one of these drawing classes (I recently asked around about it, and it got me nowhere, so I was a bit disheartened after that.  I think I’m about ready to do some new asking of new people who might be able to help, though.)

 

Well, that was productive.  I’ll be sure to share about my art exhibit, whenever it happens down the road!  Hehe  😀

 

 

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