This evening I did something I haven’t done for quite a while: paid my $12 and sat in a basement on Spring street, for three hours of open figure drawing.
Let’s just say I’m rusty.
There was something eerie and conspiritorial about the nine of us hunched over clunky drawing tables, trying to look at the model and get something down on paper. Silence except for the piercing peep of the timer to let everyone know when to take a break. Something odd too about ten new eorkers who chose to spend their Saturday evening doing this. I’m betting I was the only non regular, but then you never know.