Not exactly a walk through the park
My dear friend Marla commented halfway through her degree at Wharton, “what did I think this was going to be… a walk through the park?” Although I had remembered this warning, I seriously thought that art school would be a walk in the park for me. Yes, there would be some late nights pouring my soul into a canvas, and some early mornings showing up to an art history lecture in a dark room wearing all black, nursing my newfound caffeine addiction, but generally, my fantasy of returning to school required the least amount of effort yet produced the most glorious of results.
Finding out my class assignments for the semester did not squelch my dreams of what my life would be like as a student. In fact, it only heightened it. I figured that a life drawing class on Fridays would help me relax and wind down for the weekend. I’d gracefully whip out drawings of the human figure, go to a yoga class, and then meet friends for cocktails.
A month into school, my drawing class is clearly the most demanding class of them all. The class is six hours long, with minimal break time. On top of that, the teacher assigns six hours of drawing assignments for homework each week. Once Friday afternoon rolls around, I am completely exhausted.
Despite the harsh reality that the class is not easy, I’m really enjoying it. I’ve started to look at people and see imaginary structure lines on their faces that mark the correct angles and distances. I’m posting some drawings from my most recent class where we focused on accuracy in proportion, and I hope to be able to draw the figure with the correct proportions soon.
