Grin and Bare it

I walk into the room and to my left a boy is fiddling with an ipod while about 6 other people stand scattered about cleaning paint brushes and staring at their paintings with a mixture of what appears to be frustration and quiet self-appreciation. I glance about, make sure everyone is busy, and drop my pants.

            The first time I nude modeled was the hardest because, like any new experience, I had no idea what I was getting into and the mind creates horrors of the unknown. Stepping into the class that first day I almost tried to ask the teacher if I could please model with my clothes on thank you very much but when Professor Lopaz dropped my gaze and asked me to "please dis-robe now" I knew I would have to go through with it. As soon as I stepped out of my clothes I kept expecting to feel different, nervous, exposed but none of these emotions hit me. In fact, I felt comfortable. I didn't have any facade up and I felt completely myself and while I expected to be anxious since there was nothing to protect me from these strangers, instead I felt chatty and warm. Nothing on me represented anything of value, didn't show any preferences toward anything, didn't give anyone any indication what social group I run with. The only thing to identify me was myself, and it felt good.

            Now that I've done it a few times and I know that nothing bad happens from being naked (which I fear must have been ingrained in me since I've been told since I was a child to NOT BE NAKED) I really enjoy it. It helped a lot that the students talked with me during the breaks and occasionally I would even end up cracking up with one of the artists while I was modeling. None of the students in the class seem nervous about painting a naked person, which would have probably made me feel awkward as well. My first class I was chatting with one of the students and she said that actually they were getting tired of painting naked people all the time, which made the whole event far less strange and even slightly boring.

            I originally took the job because when I saw the ad in Hendrix Today I thought that it sounded like an interesting job but I would never be able to stand naked in front of a bunch of people. Then I realized how ridiculous it is that people are told to never be naked, and that being naked in front of others is a difficult and scary event. This notion struck me as a harmful social construction. So many people suffer from anxiety about their bodies and when people expose their skin they're often judged. So I took the job in the spirit of rejecting social limitations that have been imposed on me simply by living in this culture. It felt incredibly freeing both physically and psychologically to shed my clothing in front of strangers and feel no judgement and have nothing terrible happen either. While I was modeling though I realized that being nude isn't a perfect way to express yourself either. I was talking to one of the students [I'll find out this students name tomorrow and add it to the story] and she expressed her concern with nude modeling because in art there's a long history of artists manipulating women's bodies for their own work without regard for the women who are being portrayed.

            I'm excited to see how the paintings turn out because it will be like my own private experiment in intersubjectivity. I think I know how I look but it's impossible to tell if it matches up with what others see, so this is my chance to see myself through another's eyes. Even with some room for error since they won't be able to exactly paint what they see, it will be an interesting experience.

            The only difficult things about being a nude model are standing still for two hours and being cold. My muscles just don't want me to stand in the same position, with my head looking off to my left side, a hand on my left hip and my right hand holding a hoola hoop for two hours. Even though it's a comfortable position after 15 minutes my legs start to ache a little bit and by the end of the two hours, even with two breaks, my legs are in quite a bit of cramping pain. I'm pretty happy just thinking my own thoughts and trying to catch people's unsuspecting eyes as they walk by the door, even with a slight bit of muscle ache, but I get uncontrollably fidgety. It starts by scratching my head or jiggling my legs innocently but by the end I'm literally trying to restrain myself from moving every part of my body in quick, erratic movements. It doesn't help that the art students have impeccable taste in music and play Santogold, Starfucker and catchy dance music every class. But even if I can manage to stand still, and I'm getting better at it every time, being cold is treacherous.

            Never before in my life have I been so aware of temperature as when I'm standing in a freezing art room after being soaked by a sudden thunderstorm and my limbs have been pre-mandated to positions that are not where I want them to be, i.e. clutching my core for some ounce of warmth. Nothing kills a good two hour thought session like being cold. No one has ever produced a useful and productive thought while they are freezing. The professor brought in a heater for me but even with the heater I still find myself mainly concerned with keeping myself warm.