Nude modelling used to be my main income source. I like doing it. It's easy, contemplative and I get to be naked at work.
I like to pretend I am a tree or a rock and see how my imagining affects the resultant pictures. It often does, believe it or not.
Anyway I got a gig at the University of Calfornia at Stanislaus. I was staying with Sam while he was in school there.
There was a Monday-Wednesday-Friday class and a Tuesday-Thursday class.
The m/w/f class comprised non-traditional students; older people, immigrants, handicapped people. The instructor was a charming Italian gentleman.
The T/T class, on the other hand, were all freshman, all thin and all white. The instructor there was a tight little Englishman with a stick up his butt.
On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I felt warm, relaxed, and beautiful. In the drawings and paintings of this class I was beautiful and you could see my tree-and rock thoughts come through. The instructor would point to a portion of my anatomy and say "Look at that beautiful curve", etc.
Tuesdays and Thursdays I was grotesque, pathetic and laughable. The students could scarcely look at me anf the instructor could barely bring himself to say the word "B- b-b-b-b-b-breast."
I am fat and old and battered. I veer between hideous and exquisite. I love being with people who are broken enough to see and appreciate that.