If you stare at something long enough, you fall in love with it

Here at the art academy we spend days drawing, painting and sculpting naked people. Men and women, young and old, tall and petite, thin, and muscular and fat, dark skin, light skin, very hairy and bold. They try to keep it here as diverse as possible, and it’s a great exercise to see and capture unique features and proportions of a particular model, and so far it’s been easy for me to appreciate that diversity. Yet, recently I got assigned a new model for my new 5 week long charcoal drawing, that brought up reaction in me I was not proud of. I felt disappointed and looking around I felt jealous of students from other model rooms. Behind me students were drawing a tall lean male dancer who looked like a ballet prima, with his long legs and well defined abs. On the right an old man was posing with his back towards students, light hitting his charismatic profile with heavy eyebrows, and white beard, flowing down onto his wrinkly but strong back, creating a beautiful impression of old, wise, and proud. Behind the curtain from his there was another model, a young very curvy woman, her round breasts lied on top of her round belly that she was hugging with her round arms, gentle smile on her round face added cute dimples on her cheeks. She looked like a prehistoric Venus figurine from those far away matriarchal civilisations. 

Painters in the next room was painting this male model with ivory black skin gracefully sitting against the pink fabric background. His pose was relaxed, strong rounded back picked up light, that softly glided down his thighs and calves.  Pink reflected beautifully on his velvet skin.

Anyways, back to my model. He was a middle aged man with a disproportionately long torso, and short legs with delicate, feminine knees. He must have lost some weight in the past, because his belly wasn’t too voluminous but it was hanging down creating a shadow, right above his pelvic area. And his pelvic area was quite fat so it picked a lot of light and drew attention to his small penis. As I stared at him, I was getting annoyed with him and with the school for hiring him and making me look at him, carefully examining every shadow shape on his body for 5 weeks straight. I want to say it again: I am not proud of my reaction, I am actually very embarrassed, but that’s how I felt in the moment. I had some self reflection to do, and I had 5 weeks for that. So I started my drawing. 

As days passed by, interesting things happened to my perception of this man. First, my annoyance and judgment faded, and I just started seeing his proportions and gesture as a matter of fact. I didn’t evaluate his features anymore, I just observed and noticed. And who am I to evaluate his body anyways? Ugh so obnoxious of me. But as days kept passing by, and I kept looking and trying to capture him with my charcoal, I started wondering about his story, about everyone he ever loved and who loved him. I thought of his mom, that probably kissed his head when he was a little boy. Maybe he inherited her dark shiny hair and olive skin. All of a sudden I saw this man being loved and admired and I started feeling so much tenderness towards him. I saw god in him. And then magic happened. I noticed what I failed to notice at first glance: the grace of his arm and hand relaxing on a podium, his elegant profile and the roundness of his head, the curve on the inner side of the leg just below the knee, the contour of his neck traveling down along the trapezius and connecting with the shoulder. The width of his rib cage, the highlight on his chest. 

I’ve had that effect with sculpture: if you stare at something for long enough you fall in love with it. I really believe in that and I think that’s the power of art. Through creating art and through appreciating other people’s art, we fall in love with the world a little more. But for that we have to leave our judgment behind, we have to be humble observers and with wonder, humility and appreciation examine everything and everyone around us. See how everything is full of love. That's why I have been saying that being an artist is a spiritual practice. The two are really inseparable. And I am so thankful to the academy and my model, who is by the way so responsible, always punctual and sweet, for teaching me a lesson about my own prejudice and for challenging my beauty standards that I wasn’t aware of. 

I will share my drawing of him later when it’s finished.