Art Project
8
Rebellion
“BITCH!” Kendra’s voice cut through the air echoing my own before I got to the door. “You humiliated my friend and classmate. I don’t need this class.”
“Me either.” I turned at the door to see Susan standing up. “I already graduated from kindergarten. I don’t need a self-righteous nursery school teacher to humiliate me.” She picked up her books and headed toward Kendra and me.
“Now see here,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “I want this class to come to order immediately. There is no reason for everyone to fail it.” Half the class was already standing.
“We’re withdrawing, not failing,” Leonard said as he moved toward the door. I was backing out of the room looking at my classmates standing. “Teach the empty chairs in their nice neat rows about how to command attention when you speak.”
I turned and ran for the building entrance. I could hear the footsteps of my classmates behind me. What had they done? They couldn’t all just walk out! They’d get in trouble and it was my fault.
I fell on the steps outside the building. Just tripped over my own big feet and headed into a faceplant on the pavement. Kendra caught me.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I don’t want you in trouble.”
“Art! It’s okay,” Kendra said. She hugged me to her. Susan sandwiched me from the back.
“You aren’t in trouble and we aren’t in trouble,” Susan said. “We’re simply going to the Registrar’s office to withdraw from a worthless class.”
“We need to do more than that,” Jonathan, another of my classmates from last semester, said. “That bitch has to go.”
“But… She’s the teacher,” I managed.
“She doesn’t deserve to be. We need to empty every one of her classes.”
“We need to act fast,” Susan said. “We need signs and to picket her classroom before the next class gets there.”
“I can get poster board. We can withdraw from the class after we’re sure others are getting the message. Art, you should go to make your withdrawal official right away. Leave this part to us.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Jim Little,” he said. “I was in Art Fundamentals with you last term. Even those in our class who hadn’t met you are behind us. Everyone left her class.”
“Th… Thank you,” I managed.
“Kendra, you take Art to the Registrar’s office. I’ll intercept Annette before her next class to let her know what’s up. Jim is getting supplies. Jonathan, coordinate things with our classmates. Try to stop anyone from entering her classroom and tell them what happened,” Susan said. People started to scatter and Kendra led me off to the Registrar’s office.
I was just going to withdraw from the class, but Kendra had other ideas and my classmates were preparing for war. We filled out the paperwork and then Kendra demanded to see the Registrar herself.
“I think you should be aware that a general student strike is brewing,” Kendra told Ms. Larson when we were finally admitted to her office. “That woman has no business teaching in a college.”
“Kendra and Art, you undoubtedly have a reason for your vehemence in attacking Mrs. Reynolds, but she has very good references and will be teaching four classes this semester,” Ms. Larson said.
“Excuse me,” an assistant said from the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Larson, but six more students have dropped off withdrawal slips from the same class. Two of them were carrying signs that say ‘Support Art. Get Rid of the Bitch’.”
“What on earth?” Ms. Larson said. “Call Dean Kramer. We need to head this off right now.” She turned to Kendra and me. “If you had a part in organizing this, you may be expelled from the college. We have no tolerance for student rebellion.”
“We left the class and came directly here to withdraw,” Kendra said. “We also came to warn you that students, including us, were very angry about this teacher humiliating our friend and fellow student and ignoring his special needs in class.”
“Wait a minute,” Ms. Larson said. She looked over my withdrawal again. “Are you Professor Étrange’s son?” I nodded. “You may leave. We’ll take care of it from here.”
We left the office, suddenly dismissed and passed Dean Kramer and President Escher on their way to visit the Registrar.
Annette met us as we left the administration building and wrapped me in a hug. Three more of my classmates were on their way in with withdrawal slips in their hands. It looked like everyone on campus was headed toward the office and many of them had signs.
I couldn’t imagine how word had spread so quickly. The next class session was just starting, but it didn’t look like anyone was in class. Many of the people who were approaching the administration building were people I recognized. They were all freshmen and most I’d drawn pictures of in my classes last term. They’d just gotten near the building when a frantic-looking Registrar, Dean, and President emerged from the building. They were recognized immediately.
“Get rid of the bitch!” someone shouted. I was suddenly surrounded by classmates who were facing the administrators and chanting, “Get rid of the bitch!” I just buried my head in Annette’s hair and cried.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I kept saying. I could feel my sister’s arms wrap me from the other side. I just knew it was her because I knew it was her. She started whispering to me that it would be okay. I knew it would never be okay. I’d be expelled and so would everyone who tried to help. I’d ruined college for half the freshmen.
Somehow, I got dragged along in the wake behind the President of the University and her chief administrators back to the liberal arts building where another hundred freshmen and a few older students were gathered with signs and chanting. Just before we got to the building, Dad caught up with us.
“Are you okay, son?” he said.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to.” That’s all I’d been saying the whole time since the thing started. I didn’t mean to start a student rebellion. I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble. Why couldn’t people see that I didn’t mean to make trouble?
“Arthur Pendragon Étrange,” Dad said. I looked up at him. “This is not your fault. You don’t need to be sorry. You need to be apologized to. Annette and Morgan… Kendra… come with Art and me, please.”
“Me, too,” Susan said. Dad smiled and nodded. He helped guide us through the crowd to the classroom. There was one student in the classroom with Mrs. Reynolds.
“Well, at last we’ll get some problem children taken care of,” Mrs. Reynolds spat as we walked into the room. “That student has disrupted my classes and is fomenting a student rebellion. I want him expelled.”
“Renee, is this how you are starting your first day as a college instructor?” Dr. Escher asked. “You owe this young man an apology.”
“I certainly will not!” Mrs. Reynolds shouted. “He disrupted my class, was disrespectful, and refused to participate in the exercise. He led a walkout and started a student strike. It is he who owes an apology.” I started to repeat my mantra of ‘I’m sorry.’ Morgan squeezed my hand and spun me around to hush me.
“Renee Reynolds,” Dean Kramer said. “I’m afraid there has been an abrupt change in student enrollment. It seems there is only one student enrolled in your classes and we can’t justify holding your position for just one student. Your services will no longer be required here at the University. Classes don’t start at the middle school until the 29th. I’m sure they have not filled your position there yet.”
“You… You’re firing me?” she exclaimed. It looked like she truly didn’t even consider it a possibility.
“We’ll say it is a reduction in force due to lack of enrollment. There is a clause in your contract to that effect,” Dean Kramer said.
“You’ll hear from my lawyers about this,” she spat. The woman just didn’t give up.
“Let me give you the card of our legal counsel so your lawyer will know who to contact,” President Escher said. Two campus police officers came into the room behind us. “These gentlemen will escort you to your car to ensure your safety as you leave campus.”
Ms. Larson was on the verge of hyperventilating, but President Escher and Dean Kramer were calm and even kind as they helped Mrs. Reynolds gather her things and leave with the officers. The poor kid who had been sitting in her class was crouched down in his seat as if to hide from what was going on. No such luck.
“What’s your name, young man?” the Dean asked softly.
“Les Dorn,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“For what are you apologizing? It appears you were simply sitting here in class. I’m afraid it’s been canceled.”
“I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Please don’t tell my dad. If I get in trouble. He’ll kill me. I thought I had to be in class,” Les cried.
The Dean summoned Ms. Larson to his side and the two talked quietly with Les. President Escher stopped to say hi to us.
“Jean, I’m sorry about what happened today,” she said to my dad. “Arthur, are you doing okay now?” I swallowed and nodded.
“Dr. Escher, my son, Arthur. My daughter, Morgan. And their girlfriend, Annette.”
“Their?” she said cocking an eyebrow. She didn’t hesitate, though. “It is nice to meet you, Morgan. Annette. And what about these two lovely companions?”
“M… mm… My friends,” I managed. “Susan and Kendra.”
“Hello, Susan and Kendra. By all appearances, these are not your only friends on campus, Arthur. You gathered quite a group around you today.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Escher. I didn’t mean…”
“I’d say offhand that the young man talking to Dean Kramer could use a friend like you, too. We truly try to foster an environment where students can learn and release their creativity. It is not you who should be sorry, but me for making a hiring mistake. I didn’t think she was like that when I interviewed her, but sometimes people have an interview personality they can put on that will convince others they are something they are not,” the President sighed. “I won’t ask you to speak, but if you and your entourage could join me, I think I need to go speak to the students gathered outside. Do you suppose you could bring Mr. Dorn with us so he is identified with you and not scorned as a strike-breaker or something?”
Kendra and Susan went immediately to where Dean Kramer and Ms. Larson were encouraging Les and he joined us as we followed Dr. Escher onto the front steps of the Liberal Arts building.
“First, let me say that the problem that sparked this demonstration of support for one of your fellow students has been resolved,” Dr. Escher said from the steps. There were about 150 students gathered and many of them were carrying hastily made signs.
“Support Art!” someone yelled and there was a quick chant during which time a security person brought a portable speaker and microphone. Dr. Escher got them calmed down and started again.
“I like that slogan,” Dr. Escher said. “In fact, that is what our school is all about. When I came to this school five years ago, it was considered an elitist conclave of students and teachers who were out of touch with reality. I made it my mission to support art in our community and to show the worth of the education you receive here and the contribution you will make to our society. Today, there was an unfortunate conflict in a classroom that showed we are not always successful in choosing people and situations that reinforce that opinion. In response, you the students—especially you the freshman class—took up the cause and in your chants and your signs you came out to support Art. In doing so, you also supported the best of what this school has to offer.”
There were some more cheers and a little chanting until the President got people settled down again. I was breathing more calmly with Annette on one side of me and Morgan on the other. I saw that Les had a little smile on his face as Kendra and Susan sandwiched him between them. Dad had his hands on my shoulders from behind me.
“We have, for now, resolved the problem. Arthur and his family are satisfied with the dismissal of the offending party and our apology as an institution of higher education. I hope you will be as well. But all this leaves us with a bit of a dilemma. We have missed, almost in its entirety, the first day of the semester. I will inform all professors and will release a bulletin schoolwide that declares that tomorrow will be considered the first day of the semester and we will reset all classes to that timeframe. Those of you who got to a class this morning will have to suffer through the same lecture again tomorrow.” There was some laughter.
“For those of you freshmen who were in Liberal Arts Seminar II, in any unit, I encourage you to return to the classroom tomorrow. We will hold the withdrawal slips many of you submitted until the end of the week when you can come to the Registrar’s office and either rescind your withdrawal or confirm it. Some of you will enter a classroom with no instructor. We will do our best to rectify that by Wednesday. Since you will be without a faculty leader, I will give you your first day assignment. The Liberal Arts Seminar was designed to help you be successful in your college career. Please discuss in your seminar group ways that the events today illustrate the importance of good communication, study skills, investigative skills, and creativity. I would like you also to consider the role that developing friendship plays in your college career. If we have learned nothing else today, it is that friends come to the aid of friends, but also that people rise to support justice even when they don’t personally know the wronged party. Consider that and please make use of study and conversation areas on campus to keep the discussion going. You are what makes studying art so important.” There were some more cheers and Dr. Escher stepped back. She turned and pulled me toward her so I could wave at everyone. I don’t know what inspired me, but it was so overwhelming that I took the microphone from the President.
“Th… Thank… you…” I managed. I took a deep breath. “Friends,” I said.
“I want to go to bed,” I said simply. I was exhausted and the dinner conversation was making it even more difficult. Dad had invited Les, Susan, and Kendra to join us for dinner and there was a lot of getting to know each other. Les was the only son of a local real estate tycoon who was very domineering. The only reason he was at our school was because it was the only one available in our city that offered a full degree in business, even though it was arts management. His father didn’t want him to go out of town and didn’t want him to have an associate’s degree from the community college.
Of course, Mom wanted to know more about Susan and our proposed art project with her girlfriend. Mom had looked over Dad’s shoulder a few times while we were watching Zen the day before. I wondered what she could see when she looked at Susan’s and Les’s auras. We’d get to that sometime, but by the time Mom served apple pie for dessert, I was falling asleep in my chair.
“Good night everyone. Nice to meet you, Les,” I said. “Join us for lunch tomorrow.” With that I stumbled up the stairs and fell into bed. I was barely asleep when Morgan shook me awake to get me undressed and get my teeth brushed.
“You showed something I never saw before,” Morgan said as we finished brushing our teeth and went to join Annette in bed. “I saw you were a leader.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said. “Can’t even talk, let alone lead.”
“I know, honey. And I’m not trying to push you into anything. Sometimes things just happen. It could have been a school demonstration because nobody was ready for the semester to start and wanted to blow off steam. But it wasn’t. You should have seen their auras,” Morgan said.
“What did you see?” Annette asked.
“I’m going to get with Kendra to see if we can model it after the fact. But what I saw was a convergence of auras. Not everyone, but the majority in the crowd slid together. Kind of combined. And then they reached out. I saw it once before when Rick Salisbury came to town for a concert. The audience had a convergence of auras that reached out to him. When they touched, his aura got brighter, as if it was feeding on them. I saw the same thing with the auras of the students reaching to Pen. And Pen glowed,” Morgan finished. I snorted. Both girls looked at me.
“I’m a rock star,” I laughed. I pulled them to me and was asleep in seconds.
There was still poster paint in the studio. Some of it needed to be thinned before I could use it at all. I hadn’t painted a dreamscape since I started college and very few since Ms. Clayborn started pushing me to do serious acrylics a year ago. But I had to capture my dream. This was the only way I could do it.
Morgan had described the aura of the crowd as surging together when I stood next to Dr. Escher. I couldn’t exactly see that. I had no objective third person viewpoint. The students—my friends—were the subject. I was the object. I could see faces, though none were distinct enough for me to identify who they were. But in the midst of it, I felt a flood of energy bearing down on me. I was in the path of a tidal wave. It was overwhelming and energizing and frightening all at once. I had to capture it with paint.
The colors and light emerged from the crowd scene and focused on me, the viewer. The energy consumed everything in its path. I could see it sweep past Dr. Escher, Annette, Morgan, and Dad. I would either absorb it or be swept away.
Annette and Morgan pressed their naked bodies against me as I stood staring at my morning painting. Morgan moaned as she looked at it and sank to her knees, kissing me as she approached and then engulfed my cock in her mouth. I’d been hard all morning as I worked on this painting. Apparently, it wasn’t just a naked girl that could arouse me while I painted. Maybe this was what the Chinese called chi. An inner power and intensity that made me feel invincible. It didn’t take long for me to rise toward my peak as my sister sucked on me and Annette kissed me passionately, lightly pinching my nipples as she swabbed my tonsils with her tongue.
I was transfixed, unable to move as I poured out all the energy I’d absorbed the previous day.
Then I wanted to take care of my lovers but they both laughed.
“Today’s the first day of second semester,” Annette laughed. “We don’t want to be late for class!”
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got to Liberal Arts Seminar Tuesday. Annette met Kendra and me outside the door and gave me a kiss.
“Take care of our guy,” she said. We were about to enter the classroom when Morgan came running up dragging Les with her.
“We barely got done in time,” Morgan said. “Les has switched to this unit for Lib Arts. Take care of him and introduce him, won’t you baby?” she asked kissing me. Kendra had already moved to welcome Les and Morgan grinned at me. “I think you’ll have to share your friend,” she whispered.
When we walked into the room, the chairs had already been moved into a circle and most of our classmates had already taken seats. There were two together but a third was on the other side of the circle. I nodded to Kendra to take Les to the pair together and I sat on the other side. After all, I was among my friends.
“That was some excitement yesterday,” Jonathan said.
“I’m sorry I got all you guys um… well… that I created such a scene. She just…” Damn!
“Hey. It was good exercise for all of us,” Susan said. “I feel really good about what we did. And… I didn’t think about it before, but I feel really good about my classmates, too. I don’t think all of you even knew Art before yesterday, but when she attacked him, you all stood up for him.”
“I didn’t know what to think at first,” Jim said. “I mean, I was disgusted at the way he was being treated and my first thought was that I’d drop the class if I could. It just wasn’t fair. But then when you and Kendra got up and told her off, too, I could see it was the right thing to do. Art, I don’t think we said two words to each other all last semester in Fundamentals, but there was something more that I saw when you called her a bitch. I don’t know…”
“I agree,” Leonard said. “When you stood up and gathered your things, I just thought, ‘I’m going to follow him.’ It was pretty easy to do with you taking the lead.”
“Were you here yesterday?” Casey asked. I had my sketchbook out and was already sketching the cute redhead. I had to look at who she was talking to.
“Uh… I’m…” Les stuttered as badly as I do.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I forgot to introduce my friend, Les. He was in one of her other classes and wanted to switch to ours. He saw the other end of what happened yesterday.”
“You were there when she got fired?” Casey asked. Les nodded. “What was it like?”
“Scary,” Les said. “I was the only one in class and she’d already let me have it before the Dean got there. I didn’t know what was going on. Then Dean Kramer and Dr. Escher came in with the Registrar and I tried to disappear. They were all calm, but she was out of control. I think she’s going to sue the college.”
“We might have to picket her home,” Kendra said. “Or the middle school if she goes back to teach there.”
“Middle school? What was she even doing trying to teach college?” a blonde with a bobbed haircut asked. I didn’t know her. Damn! Were all the girls in school this cute and I just wasn’t noticing? I sketched her as she looked at Kendra and Les. ‘Question of the day,’ I wrote beside her sketch.
“Dr. Escher said some people can sell themselves as something they aren’t in an interview. I suppose it might be a good skill to have,” Les said.
“Who are you?” I asked, looking at the blonde. “Not here last semester.”
“Oh. Hi, everybody. I’m Mavis. I switched from a later class because I have Sculpture in the afternoon. I… um… kind of chose this class because someone told me there was an artist who drew pictures of all his classmates in this class. I can see it’s you,” she said. Her cheeks were pink.
“Does he ever,” Susan said. “Kendra and I have both posed for him and it was intense.”
“Posed? I thought you were just drawing in class, Art,” Leonard said.
“Um… a project for Drawing,” I said.
“I’m in that class and Sculpture this term,” Mavis said. “What kind of project is it?”
“Hey, I wonder if we’re in the same units?” Kendra asked. “Art, tell about the project.” She was really enthusiastic and I looked at the people in class. I reminded myself they were friends.
“Repetition,” I said. “You have to draw the same thing every day.”
“Doesn’t that get boring?” Mavis asked.
“Not when you draw what Arthur does,” Susan giggled. She looked at me and I felt everyone’s eyes boring into me. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and looked down.
“N… Ni… Nipples,” is all I managed to get out.
“Wait! You posed for Art so he could draw your nipples?” Casey said.
“Just the right one,” Kendra answered. I breathed a sigh of relief that she was taking on the description. “Arthur has four models. His two girlfriends posed the first day he had the assignment and it was easy to see them and draw them every day because they live together. I didn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, so they invited me to spend the weekend and I ended up posing. We had a session nearly every day until Christmas. Then I talked Susan into posing over Christmas break and not only did she pose for the nipple drawing, but she did some incredibly sensual poses that he has sketched.”
“I’m not done,” Susan said. “I’d pose every day for one of those sketches, but I know that now with school we won’t have as much time. Still…”
“If you’ve never posed, it’s worth the experience. And don’t worry. Arthur is always respectful and has his two girlfriends chaperone, or sometimes one of us.”
“I’d do it,” Leonard said. Everyone laughed. “Hey! I’ve got bigger tits than some of the girls in this class.”
“Are you talking about me?” Casey asked. She was very small in the chest and Leonard was a little fat, but Casey is still… well… hot. “I’d put my nipples up against yours any day.” We all fell silent.
“Really?” Leonard squeaked. “Okay.” Casey’s mouth fell open.
“Did I really say that?” she moaned. “That’s not what I meant and you all know it!”
“Damn!” Leonard sighed.
The result of class was that everyone, male and female, volunteered to model at least once. I thought that would be pretty interesting. The only male model I had was myself and I wondered if I would be able to get past the technical drawing with a guy and find the artistic emotional side. There were thirteen people, with the inclusion of Les, in our class. I’d already drawn two of the eight girls and had six to go. Les, Leonard, Jim, and Jonathan all agreed, as well.
I was a little embarrassed when I met Kendra, Susan, Annette, and Morgan for lunch.
“We want you to know that we’ll help chaperone if it gets to be too much,” Kendra said. “We can even set it up so he does some of them in our dorm rooms instead of having to take them all the way to your house.”
“You have ten new models, Art,” Morgan said, stroking my hand. “Do you have time to do it? Is it necessary? I mean for your project? It’s over, isn’t it? I don’t know how the spring exhibition is supposed to work.”
“Not required, but I’d like to do it,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t you like to do it?” Annette giggled. “Six more naked girls to have wet dreams over.”
“Don’t forget Zen,” Susan reminded us. “I know she wants me to be your model on cam so she can narrate and move the camera, but she wants to pose, too. I’ve got some ideas I’d like to talk about when we all get settled into this semester.”
I did a lot of nodding. Six… Seven more nude models. I was sure I’d get turned on when Mavis took her shirt off. I wondered if Annette and Morgan would become aroused when I was drawing the guys. Leonard was overweight and Les was a little scrawny, but Jonathan and Jim were both good looking guys. This was going to be interesting.
“I thought I was finally free of this group,” Prof Leitner grumbled when we came to class the next day. “Then I find that you simply can’t survive without me. I was trying to push you out of the nest and here you are cheeping for daddy bird to feed you again.”
“You mean you were responsible for the bitch?” Jonathan growled back.
“Oh, let’s not go that far. Daddy bird is not responsible for the predators that might prey on his chicks. Why don’t you unload your impressions of what has happened during the last few days? Let’s see if there are any lessons to be learned that haven’t been covered already. Anyone care to start?”
“If we take action, we can have an impact,” Rachel said. She was usually very quiet and said little. She wore large glasses that seemed to cover her whole face. There was nothing else about her that you would instantly remember when you described her, but I did wonder what her breast would look like when she uncovered it for me. In my first semester sketchbook, I’d called her ‘Specs’.
The conversation was lively. We still were a little wired from the conversation that we’d had yesterday and the discussion was lively, except that I didn’t really say anything. I drew a lot, though.
“I learned that Arthur is going to fill a sketchbook with our right nipples,” Dee said. “I’m a little nervous and want to go first and get it over with.” Kendra looked at me and I shrugged.
“We have time after our last class today. You can come to my dorm room and Art can take his time while we talk. It helps to have a distraction while you’re posing so you don’t focus on him staring at your breast,” Kendra said. Dee nodded.
“I’m sure there is more of a story here,” Prof Leitner said. “But I’m not sure I want to hear it.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Art? Did you learn anything this week?” I didn’t even think before I answered.
“I have friends.”
“Let’s talk about friendship for a bit,” he said. “A study from Purdue University not long ago said that college students who want to be rich with lifelong friends need to invest time and seek out opportunities to develop their interests now. What are you doing to develop the friendships that you’ve found so far in college?”
“When I first noticed Art drawing in class, I started posing for him so he’d sketch me. It was a game. But it wasn’t long after that I went to meet his girlfriends and ask if they’d mind if I was his friend,” Kendra said.
“Why was that, Kendra?” Prof Leitner asked.
“Well, I knew—or at least suspected—he was in a relationship with a girl I’d seen him kiss in the hallway. I just wanted to be friends, but I didn’t want his girlfriend coming down on him—or hunting me down—because a girl was spending time talking to him,” Kendra said. “I actually got three wonderful friends out of the deal and I think there will be more.”
“Yeah,” Mavis said. “Frankly, I think participating in Art’s project will bring all of us together who are in this class, even if we weren’t together first semester. I mean, some of you I’ve just met in the past two days, but I feel like we’re sharing in something special. Even if we don’t all pose together, I know we’ll all get to look at his drawings. I can’t imagine exposing even a drawing of my right nipple to anyone if I didn’t consider them a friend and want to know them better.”
“We focus on what it feels like to expose ourselves,” Rachel said. “I think we need to also consider what it feels like to look at others. I mean, I’m thinking about putting a bag over my head when I’m ready to take my shirt off because I don’t want to see him looking at me. I know that’s silly. But at the same time, I admit that it’s an opportunity to look intimately at each of my classmates. It’s not the same thing as having a party and playing strip poker or something. I think Art’s project will put a thin veneer of paper between us as we look at each other. Just enough to protect our egos and our modesty.”
I couldn’t compare my emotional and physical high when I drew Annette’s breast the first time to seeing Kendra, even though we all knew the experience had affected us both. It was Susan, though, that had awakened me to the fact that my models were experiencing something through posing that I hadn’t been aware of. They were vulnerable and were placing themselves in my hands. In Susan’s case, literally.
I realized that these were my friends, and I needed to take care of them when they posed. Protect them. Love them.
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