Commissioned art work

I stumbled upon a post on Twitter recently featuring a captivating piece of artwork titled "On the blue-grey leather sofa" by Anders Zorn, 1916 (from a private collection).

In a light-hearted jest, I quipped that I'd be willing to pay someone to create a similar masterpiece for me. However, I'm well aware of the type of model I'd make for painters or artists, and it's not exactly a flattering portrayal.

Back in my twenties, I crossed paths with a gentleman, likely in his forties or fifties—although I'm notoriously bad at guessing ages. He was an artist, and a rather talented one at that. His livelihood came from his art, which ranged from individual paintings to entire murals adorning businesses around Lansing. I found it mesmerizing that someone could sustain themselves solely through their artistic endeavors.

Among his repertoire were surreal depictions of partially animalistic, naked women—not unlike the concept of the 80s show "Manimal," but with a modern twist. It was in this context that I found myself posing, if memory serves me right, as a leopard perched in a tree. However, my inability to remain still prompted the artist to opt for capturing my likeness through photographs rather than sketches (he said he would rather paint me from a photograph than real life). I consented without hesitation at the time, yet I never got to see the resulting portrait or the film from that photoshoot. (For the record, if you ever did catch a glimpse of it, no, you didn't.)

On another occasion, I volunteered at the local community center to pose as a 1920s flapper girl for a group of artists. I was fully clothed, mind you, and they even provided me with an extensive wardrobe to truly embody the era. Initially, it was a blast, but my restlessness soon kicked in. Despite their best efforts, the artists struggled to keep me still, prompting reminders and occasional breaks. My fidgeting and constant movement left me wishing for something—anything—to occupy myself, other than awkwardly making eye contact with those attempting to capture my likeness on canvas.

Here is a photo from that event, showcasing my then-blonde locks, for those who may have forgotten or never knew me during that phase.

In essence, I've come to the conclusion that lounging on a chaise and posing for an extended period isn't quite my forte. However, the notion of reclining in a sleeping pose and actually dozing off while someone paints or draws me awake... now, that's an idea worth considering.

Until next time,

-H