Should I say hello before or after he drops his pants?

For centuries artists have practiced their observation and drawing skills through
Life Drawing.  At Sheridan College and University of Toronto, I had drawn,
painted, photographed and sculpted the human figure many times.



When I was at Teacher’s College in Toronto, a small group of us would share
a pizza and beer dinner at a local restaurant once a week then attend a free
life drawing session afterwards.  It was a frigid winter night when we
clipped various papers to our easels and arranged our conte and chalk.

A figure appeared, bundled with so many layers we could not discern whether
we would be drawing a male or female that night.  Cropped hair and a five
o’clock shadow were revealed when the wooly toque and tattered scarf
were removed.  He entered the back room and we heard him fumbling about,
no doubt changing into his bathrobe.

He emerged a few minutes later, but still fully clothed in jeans and a paint-
splotched sweatshirt.  When I saw his face, I knew immediately that I
knew him but from where I was unsure.  My memory raced over the
possibilities, was he from Sheridan? a friend of my brother’s?  maybe he
was in my youth group at church? perhaps someone I met at a friend’s
cottage?  And suddenly it hit me, Boom!
He was my next door neighbour from childhood.  We had played together
for many hours in his peddle car, hiding and seeking, building snow forts
and challenging each other at board games.

But now the predicament hit me, momentarily making me dizzy; should
I say hello to him now or after he drops his pants?
I sat on the hard wooden stool staring at my drawing paper and decided
it was best to introduce myself now.  As I approached the front of the
makeshift stage, the door flew open and in walked another man,
apologizing for his tardiness and quickly stripping off layers of clothing.

I said hello to my childhood friend who, to my relief, explained that it was
his first day on his new job as a studio monitor.  As we planned to catch up
on our past, the hired model sat down, fully naked, on the aging upholstery
chair; swung his knee over his leg and froze his gaze on a spot at the back
of the studio.  The scratching of drawing tools measuring proportion, form
and nuance settled my nerves.

I picked up my chalk and started sketching.

Thanks Google for the Images.