Atrophy
It's day two of the Extended Pose Workshop, and I am silently cursing my choice of position. Last week when I fell into the pose for a three-minute trial, I had an immediate and sinking suspicion the group would choose it for me to hold...for the next three hours. But wait, I'd be holding it for a second session of three hours the following week.
I do this to myself at least once a class: I get into a pose and realize all my weight is on my hand. Or the pressure on one hip is cutting off complete circulation to my foot. Of course I refuse to adjust; I've only fallen out of one pose, and it was during my first class. I simply bit off more than I could balance, so to speak.
Instead, I take up this little game for myself. It starts by accident one day when I am starting to shake from the angle at which I am holding my leg. I start focusing on internally releasing the pressure, shifting energy without externally moving. Yoga? Scoff! This practice seems to be working, as every professor and monitor for whom I've sat has asked for my return.
I hear all the time, even from people who have figure modeled in the past, "It's so easy! All you have to do is sit there!" I want to ask, "What kind of poses are you choosing that you're 'just sitting there'?" It's not easy! It's not four hours of sitting on my ass doing nothing.
It's positioning myself to create an interesting tangle of limbs and negative space that isn't impossible for the artist to draw. It's keeping myself awake for twenty minutes while staring at one spot on the wall to ensure my eyes don't wander. It's cramped muscles and stiff necks and the satisfaction that I contributed to something beautiful.
So I grit my teeth and give myself a mental head-slap, and vow to choose my poses more wisely in the future.
I do this to myself at least once a class: I get into a pose and realize all my weight is on my hand. Or the pressure on one hip is cutting off complete circulation to my foot. Of course I refuse to adjust; I've only fallen out of one pose, and it was during my first class. I simply bit off more than I could balance, so to speak.
Instead, I take up this little game for myself. It starts by accident one day when I am starting to shake from the angle at which I am holding my leg. I start focusing on internally releasing the pressure, shifting energy without externally moving. Yoga? Scoff! This practice seems to be working, as every professor and monitor for whom I've sat has asked for my return.
I hear all the time, even from people who have figure modeled in the past, "It's so easy! All you have to do is sit there!" I want to ask, "What kind of poses are you choosing that you're 'just sitting there'?" It's not easy! It's not four hours of sitting on my ass doing nothing.
It's positioning myself to create an interesting tangle of limbs and negative space that isn't impossible for the artist to draw. It's keeping myself awake for twenty minutes while staring at one spot on the wall to ensure my eyes don't wander. It's cramped muscles and stiff necks and the satisfaction that I contributed to something beautiful.
So I grit my teeth and give myself a mental head-slap, and vow to choose my poses more wisely in the future.
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