The Art Class - Jugs and Melons

I pursue a number of activities in order to stave off inevitable dementia and to make supposedly the best use of the time I have left. At a recent cremation we wandered through the graveyard, and I remarked to Bernadet that most of these people were younger than me when they arrived here. The cartoons for HEILOO-ONLINE fill a small part of the day between bath and breakfast. The writing is a bit blocked at the moment, but will reignite. Things are very busy at work, the house painting is almost finished, the holiday home needs attention, and our snooker team is about to take on the entire Third Division. I am scheduled on Tuesday to join battle with the ladies team 'Chicks with Sticks'. By what madness have I now enrolled in an art class? I am not sure why, but doing sketchy cartoons is not enough and I would really like to see if I can draw and paint properly. I was also inspired by a program on the BBC about a nude model who poses at art classes. The lady was stunning, but the students, mostly middle-aged men, did not seem to be doing a lot of painting. One chap just stared at this beauty for half the program until the teacher looked at his blank canvas and indicated that it might be time to open his paintbox. This is for me, I thought. I recall from my boyhood that my father joined the Camera Club 'Life Studies' course. Nobody noticed that he didn't have a camera. 

The first evening we new students joined in a cup of coffee and discussed our motives with our lady teacher. 'Will we be doing people' I asked tentatively. 'Oh yes, portrait painting is very popular'. 'But will we also be doing, you know, nudge nudge, live er.. that is to say, people of the opposite.. er.. without any, as it were, encumbering sort of garmenty stuff . I have a thing about garments. I can't draw or paint them, it's just a phobia, rather silly really!'.

'We shall be getting straight into the basic forms. Tonight we shall be concentrating on the jugs' she said, as my cup and saucer crashed to the floor. We all rushed off to the studio, to be confronted with the jugs. After drawing them, I said that I had finished. 'You have still space on your paper, she said. 'More jugs, More Jugs', I did more jugs until it was time to go home. With my jugs. I wondered if Michaelangelo went through the jug phase. Probably not, else that scene in the Sistine Chapel with Angels reaching up to God would be one where they are all holding up tin mugs, and God is wielding an astronomical coffee pot. 

JUGS by Spike

The following week, I again enquired when would we be moving towards the parts they seldom mention. 'We shall continue to explore the round forms, the globes. We shall be doing.... the melons. I did not allow my imagination to fool me again, and sure enough, the melons were ... just melons and gourds. 'More Melons. More melons'. Until it was time to leave. With my melons. 

 
MELONS by Spike

As I left, I saw a door with the note MODEL CLASS. I coughed loudly and shouted 'Sorry, wrong door' before opening the door. They all turned to look at me, except for the nude model. She was bald and had no face. She had been pensioned off from C and A after a long carreer as a shop window dummy. I shall keep you all informed. Stef, How is your passport problem? Can you and Jas still get over? I can help with the ticket. Love you all. Dad.