Not another diet diatribe, (though one is definitely required), but art…

Tuesday is the day I go to a portrait class – not that I am an artist, I just dabble, and it helps me to observe, which in turn enhances my writing.

Today’s subject was ‘bodies in perspective’ and it was one of the hardest subjects I have had to draw. The model was brilliant and as still as the grave – in fact snoring at one point.

I just had no idea where to start. We had been told to draw from the narrow end – that is the feet end or the head end, no easy sideways view for us today.

I chose the head end, preferring to view down the nose towards tiny feet than the alternative which was all soles, toes and nostrils. And I sat, and sat, and started, rubbed out and sat again.

Eventually I achieved an oversized egg for a head with what looked like a pyramid of up-bent left knee protruding from the chin area  and the top view of a left foot waving carelessly to one side of the composition.

I sketched in the bed, and the model’s two out-flung arms and hey presto, an elderly creature hanging on for dear life to the edges of some kind of diabolical flying carpet.

I rather chuckled to myself as I considered that my art does indeed mirror my life…no bodies, not my own or even those I draw, seem to have any idea of  perspective at all.