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Ross Clark

Drawing from Life

the last space in the circle is between two women. when the teacher turns the fan on, my drawing paper riffles. the models put on their nudity, veins showing beneath their marble skins. the woman to my right draws curves with her bony hands.  i begin with a charcoal smudge of pubes & work outwards. the woman to my left looks like a famous photograph.  the models compose another shape together . . .

feet everywhere
& just one nipple
looks out

& another, & another. they are brief statuary, & our eyes hasten to teach our fingers. pages turning, sighs. one pas de deux after another. then the final pose.

naked & still
for 20 minutes
          thinking

our fingers are sooty from the charcoal sticks, & everyone in the room is tired, bored even. we all stretch while the models dress.

                        pose all day &
                        your feet get dirty