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Jonathan Beech had wanted to be a painter since he can remember, but really doing it had proven nothing but frustrating. Starving Artist was an understatement, and finding that nugget of inspiration remained illusive.
In a last-ditch effort to save his dream career, Jonathan took a few evening art classes at the local community college. One of those classes was life drawing.
The first life-drawing class was fairly boring, with lectures and a slide presentation. Pretty routine stuff Jonathan learned in his freshman year. As the class drew to an end, the professor told everyone to come prepared to sketch next class.
Jonathan left somewhat regretting he signed up. He’d give it one more evening, then drop it.
The next class, Jonathan showed up with a new sketchpad and a set of pencils that cost him a days meal. The first ten minutes was spent reviewing last class. Jonathan had made up his mind this was it. One sketch, then he would try and get the tuition refunded.
‘’Everybody all set?’’ the Professor asked.
All the students nodded yes and readied their materials. Pepper, a plain young woman who had just celebrated her twenty-second birthday, walked to the center of the room in a long bathrobe.
Pepper was the kind of woman that could sit unnoticed in a coffee shop. Her plain features and short hair made her a forgettable face. Her eyes were always down, and her mouth was always closed.
‘’Whenever you’re ready,’’ the Professor said.
Pepper sat on a platform and opened her robe. She let the thin fabric fall off her shoulders to reveal her small breasts. After a few adjustments to her pose, the class began to draw.
The professor moved from student to student looking at their work. When he got to Jonathon, he stopped. Jonathan’s sketch was a disaster, with its proportions all wrong, and the figure stiff and lifeless. The Professor moved to the front of the classroom.
‘’Remember people, this isn’t about drawing what you see. You are drawing a person that has a heartbeat, and somewhere inside that body you see is a soul. I want to see that soul on paper,’’ he instructed.
Jonathan drew a big, angry X through his drawing, then flipped to a fresh page.
‘’Okay, lets try a new position,’’ the Professor said to Pepper.
Pepper turned so she was facing Jonathan. She leaned back, tilted her head up, and kept her knees together. From Jonathan’s viewpoint, all he could see was Pepper’s calves, shoulders and neck. He started to draw.
Again the Professor made his rounds, giving nods of approval and helpful advice. Jonathan had produced his second disaster, and the Professor was concerned.
‘’You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you?’’ he asked a frustrated Jonathan.
‘’Hating it is more like it. I just don’t see – her, I guess,’’ Jonathan replied. ‘’Have any houseplants I can sketch,’’ he said with a hint of anger.
Pepper heard this. Not just the words, but the anxiety and the resignation in the voice.
‘’Lets do a few more and then we can take some time to discuss our work,’’ the Professor said.
Jonathan flipped to a clean page. He tapped his pencil over and over. He just wanted this to be over. He readied his pencil, looked up at Pepper. Nothing about her was interesting. ‘’A lump of flesh,’’ he mumbled to himself.
Sensing this, Pepper let one leg drop open, her gaze directly on Jonathan. His heart skipped a beat.
Pepper’s eyes were a deep, aquamarine. Wet, wistful eyes that brought her face to life. Jonathan started to draw them.
When the Professor passed, he was impressed by the intensity and expression.
Jonathan started to draw her neck and shoulders. He then drew the breasts; small, firm, pink nipples so pale he couldn’t define where they stopped, and the breast started. He then drew her belly, that soft and supple middle of fem. He could see it rise and fall with her every breath.
Then he looked at the thick hair between her legs. It was silky and shimmering, and right in the middle was her pink clitoris, like a pearl hidden deep in the thick of sea grass.
Jonathan sketched Pepper’s sex. His hand seemed to know it. Its folds. Its – wanting. When he looked up, Pepper was gazing right at him, as smile that said – enjoy me.
The Professor said ‘’Last one,’’ shattering Jonathan’s dream state.
Pepper turned her back to Jonathan, then pulled one leg up. Her pink asshole was looking right at him. His hand was shaking.
The students who had a view of Pepper’s ass only used shading to imply the recess. Jonathan drew every detail; Thin transparent lines all moved to this woman’s most private of places.
“Pencils down,” the professor barked.
Jonathan set his pencil down and stared at what he drew. A little embarrassed at first, he quickly realized it was – perfect.
He stepped back as Pepper moved from sketch to sketch. All pretty much routine exercises in human anatomy. When she got to Jonathan’s she stopped. She looks at herself - erotic, available, alive. She then flipped through Jonathan’s other sketches.
She picked up one of Jonathan’s pencils and scribbled her phone number at the bottom of one page, then moved on to other students. Jonathan could only look at the number – memorized it.
As Pepper readied to leave, their eyes met. No words needed. Jonathan would call her that night.
Pepper left, her eyes down and again that forgettable woman. But alas, forgettable she was not.
***
A.W.
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