Back to the Drawing Board.

I have reached the age where I don’t have to do a lot of things to know how they’ll turn out. This is because I am older and wiser. Ok at least the first one. When I was younger I was the one that did have to jump off the bridge. I was the one who thought the speeding limit was just a suggestion. I didn’t believe them when the sign said wet paint. When I saw something gross growing in my fridge I had to put my nose in it to find out if it really did smell rotten. Then I would scream and ask other people to smell it too. That is why I didn’t join the local artists at their sketching class.

Let me begin. I find writing lonely and when I told a local artist friend of mine this he said I could come to the weekly drawing class. I could write. They would draw. I was so happy to have company I let the words “There is a model sitting there” run by me. Those words didn’t register. I thought they’ll draw I will get my new play started. Then one of the artists heard about this and said that perhaps I would make the model uncomfortable because it was a life drawing. For those in the dark life drawing is code for nude. Nude model sitting there.  Now anyone that knows me knows I don’t like nudity. Mine or anyone elses. I wear panty hose to the beach. And people say hey Deb are those pantyhose you’re wearing and I say, “No all my family has dark legs at the top. And webbed toes.”

But in the past I would’ve had no impulse control. I would have gone to this “Life Drawing” Class and pretended I was comfortable with nudity. I would have done it for the good story I could tell after. I would have tried to give the nude model a wink to say hey I am liberal. I would look cool on the outside while inside there would be the script of  “real”  sketch comedy  going on. I would have thought of funny things that I couldn’t say. Like when the nude model stood up to take a coffee break I could say “I guess you don’t need a stir stick.”   I would have talked casually about the weather but in my head would be the joke about the two guys looking over the fence at the nudist camp. One guy says to the other. “Boy look at that woman. I’d like to see her in a sweater.” See this is why I opted out. That and they took a vote and everybody said it would be too hard for the artist to have a comic there. You can draw nude bodies, you can’t write about them. because I guess it’s not observation its editorial and no one wants to be rated.  But as for my writing I am back to the drawing board. Tomorrow I am going attend  a Still Life class which is code for a bowl of fruit.  And everyone is dressed. Even the oranges have peelings.

Deborah Kimmett conducts one day Writer’s Retreats on Amherst Island. Next one June 12th 2010. 10-4pm.  Whether you’re a new or experienced writer, this is safe and fun. www.kimmett.ca