I took air in and stared out the window, trying to relax into a 25-minute state of stillness while sitting on a wood bench. In drawing class, we work on the practice drawing others, the human form. We paired up and took turns inflicting eyes and pencils on one another.
The apprehension of being the model is that you might have a bad drafter trying to get down your likeness with marks on a piece of paper. But this fear is quickly displaced.
Next, you worry that your partner is a good artist, that they’ll get your features preserved as they truly are onto the 18 by 24 inch page, possibly to be pinned to the wall in the art building for all to see.
Or, worse, what if they see, really notice, exactly, what you really are like on the outside?
Or, worst of all: What if they see me as I really am?
I held still, stared out the window, trying to keep my mask on, inadequacies and insecurities tucked away within.
The Zeroth Draft 