Oh, to wear a jaunty beret and white pants with a million colors smeared all over the front of them. I never showed any artistic aptitude, I'm afraid. The art teachers in elementary school were never shy about my lack of talent. Of course the music teachers were hardly encouraging but that's another blog.
I've taken art classes several times as an adult and I'd be lying to you if I said that naked models weren't a big part of my inspiration. A big part.
Somehow my teachers seem to like my work, if I may refer to it as work. The last one asked, "Do you know Matisse? Your drawings look a lot like some of his."
If I strained I could see a similarity. The problem is that Henri could have made his nudes look like the models if that was what he had in mind. Mine were exaggerated and impressionistic because that was the best that I could do. Again, to make a musical analogy, it was a little bit like my intonation. I hear in perfect pitch.
I have the soul of an artist. I wish I could say more.