Surely some talent rubbed off

I stood in line at the Musee Louvre for the evening opening. For a reduced price, 6 euros, and with fewer people, you can have access to the museum for nearly four hours on Wednesday and Friday from 6-9:45 PM (more than enough time to saturate on objets d'art). My intent was to draw. I found a Greek statute and spent nearly two hours, sketching until my tummy was growling, my legs aching from standing (it was the best angle) and light-headedness was beginning to set in. Whew, i thought i would quickly make my way out the opposite way i came in. Ha! By the time i simply walked through the corridors and noted all of the other statues or paintings i wanted to sketch almost two more hours had gone by. (And what happened to the aching legs, growling tummy and spinning head? Disappeared. I am amazed at what happens when i am fully engaged. Some might call it being present, but in that state the only thing that matters is what i am engaged in. I love it when that happens. And it seems to happen most often when i am creating. Creating anything...art, food, love, exercise.)

As an aside i read that if you stood in front of every item in the Louvre for just ten seconds it would take you two full weeks to get through it. I am all about art but overload is overload.

Two nights later i found myself at the Pompidou museum which exhibits modern art. An exhibition of Lucien Freud was showing, I bought myself a ticket 12 euros and seriously considered the annual membership 48 euros which seemed like a steal to me. Another two hours sketching this outrageously fat woman that Freud painted. The proportions were so outrageous that they were a blast to draw--legs the size of tree trunks, breasts the size of watermelons--really--belly the size of the Icelandic volcanic cloud floating over all other organs. Fantastic. After which i treated myself to a book which had a comprehensive collection of Frank Auerbach's work which i adore and then plopped myself on the roof top bar for a glass of wine, olives, almonds and one of the most decadent views of Paris. Ahh...the life.

And finally the next day i went to L'Atelier de Grande Chaumieur to draw the nude figure. This was an amazing find. Four hours of a live model, posing, sketching, sharpening pencils, capturing an essence, missing it, finding that thing every artist hopes to express and then sheer exhaustion. Only then did i realize that my butt was killing me--sitting for hours on end with 100% focus even when i was muddling through my broken french trying to understand the rules and etiquette of the studio. The next day i could hardly walk. But I was gleeful. I had been drawing in the same room as Gaugin, Modigliani, Morher, Delacroix, Manet, Picasso and Cezanne to name a few. Surely some of the talent rubbed off?