The Superman pose

Between the two classes, Alison and I passed a recruitment stand for the armed forces.  I had 1% battery life in my iPhone at this point, which was just enough time to snap off a single picture, because the stand was flanked on either side by a group of anti-war protestors, who were clearly there as a response to the recruitment stand and I couldn't resist the opportunity to capture this political moment.  Alison said later, that she hadn't even noticed it, which was hardly surprising - there were a lot of people passing back and forth between us and them.  I noticed it right away, though.

We went to Waterstone's book shop on George Street, because the dad of a friend of hers had just written a book that she was hoping to buy.  It wasn't in stock, though, which was disappointing.  So we had a coffee and we spoke about a couple of other classes.  She had sent me a text recently, asking me if I'd ever done a hen night, where I'd been asked to wear a horse's head mask, because she'd seen pictures of it on Facebook.  She wasn't sure that it was me, because of the mask, but she had seen little wooden boxes in the pictures.  I used to use them for holding the charcoal and chalk, but had eventually "retired" them when they started getting a bit too damaged as a result.  I wanted to see the Facebook page, but we never got round to trying to find it, before we started to walk  back to The Fiddler's Elbow.

There was an exhibition of some pictures on ST Andrew Square, that we took a look at on the way, which was really cool.  They were set up to reflect scenes of nature, and some were really cool.  At least two of them represented Fibinacci sequences - a concept that I first heard about back in the late nineties, and which really fascinated me at the time.

And eventually… back to work.  If classes like these two could ever really be called "work".  Just check out the pictures...

          

Clearly, the morning class had established a precedent for the day and it didn't take long before we started to be concerned about whether the second model's reliability as well.  Alison had been disconcerted by the first guy's failure to turn up, so she had gone through all her notes, all her texts and made sure she had got all the details right - venue, time date.  She already knew she hadn't messed up, but was making sure.  She had also made repeated 'phone calls to him, to find out what his reason was - and repeated 'phone calls to the other guy to make sure he wasn't going to do the same thing.  And she hadn't had a single answer to any of the calls.

So as we returned to the Fiddler's Elbow, I suggested we wait until 3:55PM and if the model didn't turn up, then I'd get changed and ready for the class.  By then, she was getting pretty frustrated in general and shaved five more minutes off that time.  It makes sense - after all, the models need to arrive a good ten minutes early for the classes, so they have time to get ready.

So, he didn't turn up, I ended up doing two classes, and I really enjoyed both of them.  The second group were a bit more raucous, but in a good way.  Sometimes groups like that can be difficult to maintain, but this lot were just a bit lively and loud, with their good humour adding to the general atmosphere.

They had no trouble coming up with ideas for various poses, but I had to knock back the "handstand" suggestion.  At one point, I almost got tempted to try it out against the wall, just to see if I could, but Alison had a bit more sense than me and talked me back from that particular ledge.  After that, there were various Olympic sporting pose suggestions, and I had to shamefully confess that I didn't know any of them.  I admitted that I clearly didn't have enough patriotic spirit in me to even bother watching the opening ceremony.

In the end, the first pose had me on my knees, with my hands in the air, making "victory" signs.  That was fun, but - like the "lion-lunge" pose from the morning's class - I couldn't hold it for long.

We had an extra little incentive for the challenges in the afternoon class, though.  I'd bought a couple of boxes of toffifee, and offered them as additional prizes to the various winners.  I don't even know how to pronounce the word, and somehow manage to say it a bit differently every time I attempt it, so that was my own personal challenge - just managing to offer them as a prize.  I definitely like them, though, so I've got plenty left for myself, now that the day is done.

One of the girls had bought a load of sweets from the farmer's market, though, so she handed them out as well.  Skullcrushers, cola cubes, cola bottles and perhaps a couple of others.  I took one of the skullcrushers.  I didn't have my glasses on at the time, so when she held them out, I genuinely thought they were white mice.  I'm not generally a fan of white chocolate, but I think I've got some sort of nostalgic fondness for white mice.

There were a couple of failed attempts at something called "the Superman pose" that the girls wanted to try out.  I didn't know what they were getting at, at first, but soon worked it out.  I was supposed to lie on my back and hold the girl's hands, then plant my feet in her stomach - then I was supposed to raise my legs, while she lunged forward.  If it had worked, then she would have been Superman - sort of in a flying position.  I protested that my feet would be dirty, but she was completely game for it, regardless.  In the end, she lay on the floor between my legs, while I stood astride her, holding a handwritten "Sorry Martin" message.

There were a couple of failed attempts at something called "the Superman pose" that the girls wanted to try out.  I didn't know what they were getting at, at first, but soon worked it out.  I was supposed to lie on my back and hold the girl's hands, then plant my feet in her stomach - then I was supposed to raise my legs, while she lunged forward.  If it had worked, then she would have been Superman - sort of in a flying position.  I protested that my feet would be dirty, but she was completely game for it, regardless.  In the end, she lay on the floor between my legs, while I stood astride her, holding a handwritten "Sorry Martin" message.

We finished up with the always popular "Make A Giant Man" pose and it was probably the least successful and most deformed result we've ever had.  Mainly because there were two bums and five penises - and someone had managed to draw both a bum and a penis in the same picture.  There were also at least three torsos and two of them were from behind.  Now, this pose can often go a bit awry and that's part of the fun.  But it's never gone quite as awry as this one, before.

After the class was done, everybody was really in a good mood and none of us were all that particularly bothered about moving on.  I think we might have stayed as we were for ages, just milling around in little groups and having conversations with each other, while I stayed naked, if that had been an option.  But I started worrying that perhaps we'd taken up the room a lot longer than we had said we would, and perhaps the management would be keen for us to move on, since the class was done.  So, since Alison and I still had to tidy everything up, I encouraged everybody to move downstairs, then I got dressed and we packed everything away.  It was a shame, because we were all still enjoying ourselves, but it was probably a good idea to start winding everything up.

So… now Alison and I have made some vague plans for meeting up more socially, later.  Probably next Sunday.  We'll probably catch Cloud Atlas at the cinema, then go to watch (in my case, rematch) every episode of Utopia.  She's seen the first two episodes of it, been hooked and missed the rest.  I'll be very happy to watch it all over again.

We're still very frustrated at the two models who didn't show up.  Last week, I spent a lot of time worrying about some of the things that could have gone wrong, but I never seriously considered that we might be let down by our own staff, so I'm definitely glad that I was able to step in and cover for them.  And not even just once - but twice, by two separate models in the same day.  It would have been disastrous if I hadn't been there.  The main thing isn't the money I'd have had to pay back, although that would have been a pretty brutal loss.  But the disappointment and frustration to my clients would have been much, much worse.  Thankfully, it didn't come to that.

But now I'm very curious to find out if either of those two models ever get back in touch with Alison to explain themselves.  It would have to be an intensely good explanation, though, if they're to stand any possibility at all of getting a second chance.

It looks like they've lost all chances of ever working for us - but they could always try to enlist.  And the first task for any new recruits is clearly getting past the protestors.

Hello, Kitty

A couple of months ago, I booked The Fiddler's Elbow for two classes to be held today.  Then, a fortnight ago, I tried calling them up to make sure everything was running smoothly and to check that the classes were still confirmed.  I made a bunch of calls, but got no answer.  Eventually, a week ago, I went in personally and found that the venue was closed down.  I started to panic slightly, and made some more 'phone calls and finally raised the manager who assured me that the place would be open in time for the classes.  Not before I'd checked a couple of other places as alternatives, but got knocked back each time.  Too little notice.

Yesterday afternoon, Alison went in and checked it out as well.  She met the manager personally, who assured her that everything was on track.  A ceiling had collapsed and had to be repaired.  The venue was also under new management, but the new people seem happy for us to keep using the place.

Then last night, my cousin came round to visit.  I was tempted to take all the sketchpads round to the Fiddler's Elbow the night before my class, so that when Alison got there, all she would need to do was set everything up and take care of it all herself.  Since I wasn't going to be modelling, there was no real need for me to be there.  That way, I could stay up drinking with my cousin all night, without having to worry about an early rise.

But I wasn't keen… I still wanted to go in personally and set everything up.  And I wanted to see how the place looked after the refurbishment.  Mostly, I wanted to be there on the spot, in case anything went wrong with the classes.  It's not performance anxiety if I'm not going to be performing, but I knew I was still going to stress, so I figured I'd much rather be there, just in case.

(We stayed up late drinking, anyway.  After all, it's not like I was really bothered about looking my best if I wasn't going to be modelling.  So six hours of sleep on the couch - my cousin and his girlfriend had my bed - was going to be plenty.)

Anyway, the new management team at the Fiddler's Elbow were keen for everything to run smoothly, so they had the chairs arranged and the floor mopped when I got in - all ready for me to just put down the sketchpads and charcoal and props.  So I had the room completely set up in plenty of time, so was sitting and talking to the new manager when Alison arrived.  We went upstairs, tweaked everything very slightly just a little bit more, and then sat around waiting for everybody else to arrive.  Alison told me that since there were two classes - one at 11AM and one at 4PMM - she had booked two separate models.  They were both new and this would give her a chance to check on both of them on the same day.

The girls arrived at 10:55AM, but the first model hadn't arrived yet.  I spoke to the girl who had made the booking and apologised to her, and said the model was probably running a little late.  She apologised for being early and said it was her fault, which really amused me, because - at five minutes - she was just barely early.  Meanwhile, Alison kept trying to call the model to find out where he was, and kept getting no reply.  And so it was quickly decided that I was going to model for this class after all.

I've never had a model chicken out before - and I still don't know if that's what happened this time.  It's always been a fear of mine, because that's the sort of thing that could be disastrous if I'm off covering another class and there's no backup option.  Thankfully, that wasn't the case, today.

(Thankfully, I wasn't feeling particularly rough from the drinking and I knew the lack of sleep hadn't really taken its toll, either.  That's one of the truly great benefits of a fast metabolism.  Keep the momentum going and the enthusiasm will just sweep the tiredness aside and carry me along.)

 

I had a pair of gold hotpants in my case.  They were a prop that I'd bought specifically for a previous class - one that was supposed to have a Rocky Horror theme going on - but had never been used before.  But it's more fun to start any class off wearing something, rather than being completely naked from the outset, so the hotpants were used today, for the first time.  Alison burst out laughing when she saw me in them - she hadn't anticipated that I'd have to improvise, due to the lack of an alternative model.

The girls in this first class were great.  They really seemed to enjoy themselves and got completely into the spirit of the class.  For the very first picture, they wanted me to stand like I was lunging at the bride, which was a lot of fun.  That's normally a difficult one to maintain, because it can be tough to hold my arms up for a long time, but we kept it short and I managed it without any real difficulty.

The second one was a killer, though.  I was asked to get down on all fours (a common request at these events) and pretend to be a lion.  Again, I was supposed to be lunging at the bride.  This one too tough, though.  I was able to hold my arm up for maybe three or four minutes, but it hurt really badly in almost no time at all, and I had to abandon it pretty quickly.  We knew that was going to happen, though, so we made it a "rapid drawing" pose.  One of the girls had enough time to interpret the "lion" element fairly literally, though, so she won that particular drawing challenge.

There were a couple of "Kitty" references among the girls going on.  An in-joke that Alison picked up on pretty quickly, while I completely missed it.  Then, when the bride posed with me for one of the challenges, the winning artist got very creative, drew me with a cat's head, added an extra filthy detail and had a word balloon with "Hello Kitty" in it.  That's when Alison asked about the reference and the bride said it was embarrassing, so I offered her three extra points in the competition if she would tell us the story.  She said it was the nickname that her fiancé had for her.  I thought she was holding back, so I said I was keeping the points, but would give them to any of her friends who would give us the full story.  But, apparently, that was indeed the full story, so she got the points in the end.

While the class was going on, I could see out the window.  There was a small farmer's market setting up across the road, in front of the ST James Centre, so when the class was finished, Alison and I took advantage of the four-hour gap between the two classes, went across for something to eat and spent some time chilling out and catching up.  We felt sure that we'd been spoiled, because the first of the day's classes was so much fun and had so many nice people involved, who really seemed to get right into it.  We were sure the second class would be a lot less fun.

We were wrong.

Aberargie

This year, Alison and I decided that I would step back a bit from the modelling and start offering more work to the younger models.  She's getting more of a pool of younger models to choose from, so it makes more sense to use them.

Since the jobs outside of town require a bit of travel, however, we also agreed that I'd continue to cover those.  The buses get a bit sketchy sometimes, and the travel gets more complicated.  It can get very frustrating.  And if things go wrong, then I've got no guarantee that a model won't get discouraged and just head back to Edinburgh.  They are automatically less motivated than me to do a good job, so if that happens, then I'll lose the transport costs and I'll have to return whatever I've been paid for the class that gets cancelled as a result.  Plus, I'll have some very dissatisfied customers who won't be saying nice things about the professionalism of the business.

Now, fair enough - it's not just the model who's doing the job.  Alison, or a different tutor will also be going along.  But still, if the model decides to just quit, then she's not going to be able to forcibly prevent him from going home again.

That's a worst case scenario, but it's the sort of thing that preys on my mind.  Combine that with the length of time it takes to travel anywhere in Scotland and the infrequency of some of the buses and the unreliability of the weather, which can slow everything down or bring it all to a complete halt.  So a job that lasts a single hour, could involve a full day of travel.  So add in the fact that I'd have to make sure that both model and tutor are fed and I'd have to allow for the possibility of them being stranded somewhere overnight, so might have to pay for a B&B.  Stuff like that doesn't just cut into the profit margins - that's the kind of thing that can have me running at a substantial loss.

So I'm going to continue to do those classes that are out of town.

Anyway, things definitely went wrong with this particular class.  It was at a private venue in Perth, so I checked out the location online.  The journey involved a bus trip to Perth, then a shorter local bus trip to a small town called Aberargie, with a hotel.  That sort of thing is perfect.  Get as close to the venue as possible, make sure I arrive a couple of hours early, make sure I know where the venue is, work out how long it'll take to either walk or catch a taxi from the hotel to the venue, then sit in the bar of the hotel and order coffees until it's time to leave.  Perfect.  Unless I arrive two hours early get off the bus, into some really miserable, drizzly rain and find that the hotel has closed down.

I saw a postman and asked him for directions to the nearest hotel or cafe or anywhere I could sit in the warmth and wait.  He points down the road and tells me to go to Abernethy.  So I start walking.  Forty minutes later, I'm still walking down this little country road, dragging the sketchpads along behind me in the case, in this nasty rain - and I'm only just getting into the outskirts of the town.  And still no sign of any kind of place to eat.  And the whole time I'm aware that unless I find a taxi or a bus service, I'm going to have to walk all the way back.  And eventually, I had to admit defeat.  Time is starting to run out.

So I turned round and headed back into Aberargie.  And walked past the turning for the venue.  And lost another twenty minutes, while I figured out where I'd gone wrong, headed back and walked up another, smaller country road, looking for the venue.

The class was due to start at 1:30PM and I had intended to get there at 1PM, so I could have plenty of time to set up.  I wasn't late for the class, but I did lose some of the startup time.  That was intensely frustrating.  Also, by then, my clothes were pretty soaked, so there was a bit of shrinkage going on, which wasn't doing my ego much good.

When the class started, though, everything picked up.  All the stresses fall away at that point.  If there's anything that could go wrong, then that's already happened and been dealt with.  And if nothing's gone wrong, then it's all cool.  Either way, once the class starts, all the performance anxieties and the tensions and all those things are in the past and all I need to do is enjoy myself and make sure the girls are enjoying themselves.

This was the first class of 2013.

The venue was a big house, so the bride was smuggled into a different part of the building, while I was sneaked past some of the other girls and upstairs to the room where the class was being held.  It was a beautiful room and I just suggested one tweak to it.  I got permission to move a couch slightly, so that the focal point of the room was more focussed and I could stand in that area.  Then I stepped into the next room, got undressed, discovered how good Scottish weather can have a spirit-crushing effect on some body parts, dealt with the confidence sapping consequences of that, debated the wisdom of some "hand-fluffing" activities, wondered what that would look like if someone entered the room to check up on me and caught me at it, abandoned that potentially compromising activity, listened to the room next door filling up and waited for my cue to enter.

It wasn't one of the livelier classes.  The girls seemed to enjoy themselves, but they'd also been enjoying themselves the night before, and this had made them a bit more restrained - possibly even a bit fragile.  So we took it easy.  There was the usual banter and the usual drawing challenges, which they took to with creativity, but possibly not with complete enthusiasm.  But we took our time and relaxed into it, we went through the various challenges, picked out the winners for every round, got an overall winner and finally - I gave a card each to that winner and to the bride.

The journey back to Edinburgh was a lot easier.  It usually is, though.  For some reason, it's a lot easier to get into that town, than out of it.