Tomki and I went to our first life drawing class last night. It was in an old red brick Victorian building in the midst of a horrific East London estate. I shackled my bike to a door as best I could and spent a jolly ninety minutes drawing a very fat, naked man. All the artists lay their drawings down at the end and we took a wander to look at our peers' work. Tomki had chosen an unfortunate seat which allowed him the most unflattering view of the model's last pose. The man lad lain down and his legs were slightly parted. Tomki, bless him, had done his best.
"Which one is yours?" I asked.
"The one with no hands," he replied.
"And the willy," I added.
"Yes. When we did life drawing in school there were only three of us who drew the willy. I was one of them."
"Who were the other two?"
You can see my efforts below. I was unexpectedly frustrated by the lack of flexibility that Photoshop and my Wacom usually allow. You can't just ctrl+z your way out of trouble, or turn off the layer you have just ruined. Next time I think I'll try a different medium. I'd prefer materials that allow me to achieve more detail. These were drawn on A4 with a very irritating brand of pastel pencils which are specially designed to shatter when you pick them up. Or just look at them.