Confessions of an artist– an unforgettable evening.

I always enjoyed drawing people with their clothes on, but then I took it one stage further. How my first life drawing class led to a bizarre series of events.

My grandfather was a very talented artist. He painted portraits and also loved to sketch people in the street. Sadly, he passed away before I was born, but he has always been an inspiration to me.

I was told he preferred to paint older people because they have more character in their faces.

With this in mind, I turned up at my first ever life drawing class, hoping that we would be drawing an elderly person.

I had no reason to expect the person to be elderly, but when a young, naked man entered the room, I was completely thrown.

The truth is, I felt quite flummoxed. In my head, I had expected to be drawing wrinkles and folds of skin. A face full of stories and wisdom.

The young man seemed very comfortable in his skin and posed with ease. I tried to draw a good likeness, but I didn’t feel particularly inspired. His body didn’t tell a story. It wasn’t his fault; it was just that he was too young (and unlined) for what I wanted.