New tricks
Last night I took my first drawing class in decades. It was a blast – and a real mental work-out. I left feeling positively cross-eyed, my brain having gotten a rewiring to remember.
The last drawing class I ever took was in Munich, with Peter Zeiler, …in the late 1970s. The late 70s, people, happened thirty-five years ago.
I took classes with Peter to prepare my portfolio for admission to the Staatliche Kunstakademie München (a school I dropped out of, by the way, before it was cool to drop out of school – maybe this is a clue to get back into the milieu…).
Peter Zeiler was the luckiest Munich find I made in the late ’70s (aside from that guy I married, of course) – an absolutely amazing teacher. I see that he’s no longer in Schwabing (where I took classes), but his studio and school are still going strong. The banner announcing that this is the oldest private art school in Munich (50 years!) makes me rapidly move from feeling cross-eyed to historical, though. Where in hell does the time go? And why didn’t I keep up my drawing practice?
That’s what I asked myself last night as I clunked my way through Lynn Kitagawa’s excellent Figure Drawing class at the Pacific Northwest College of Art. I’ve got seven more evenings to reconnect to that muscle memory (including the ever-lazy-and-lazier eyeball muscles).
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