This week I had an experience that pushed me beyond the very narrow limits of my comfort zone. Care to join me?
Earlier this semester my painting instructor approached me about helping out with an in-class demo. Ah, yes, I thought. He's finally realized the extent of my abilities as an oil painting protege and wants me to show these amateurs how it's done... While I didn't really think that, I was curious and wanted to help out... so I asked him what he needed.
"Would you mind sitting for me when we do our portrait demo in a couple weeks?"
Well, I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't that. We had an in-class demo a few weeks prior where we studied light to shadow relationships by painting an orb. This would be the same kind of thing, except no orb. Just me. Shoulders up and fully clothed. But still...
I didn't know how to respond and when that happens I usually end up saying something foolish, like "Sure!" Which is really just no-not-really-but-I-don't-want-to-say-no disguised as compliance. So I said, "Sure!" He didn't want to pressure me, though... He would understand if I didn't want to because he realizes some people aren't comfortable with that sort of - "Sure!"
But after class I felt less sure.
This would mean being on display in front of my classmates while my physical self was scrutinized and then painted onto a canvas. Being in the spotlight is intimidating enough, but this was more like being trapped under a microscope. Thinking rationally, I knew that was pretty melodramatic. But the irrational part of me - the part that is sometimes just a bit more persuasive - didn't know if I was up for it.
Then again, part of me was flattered. Not because I thought our instructor had found in me his muse and had to immortalize me on canvas (tosses hair)... Please. No, I was flattered because I thought perhaps he considered me a competent painter and someone who maybe (maybe?) didn't need to see the demo as much as the other students. In other words: Yeah, Lauren has this.
Or maybe he just needed a face and any old face would do.
One week later I was asked if I was still on board. Well, I had already practiced posing in the mirror soooo...
"I'm sure if you are!" Liar.
On Tuesday evening I showed up for class feeling slightly angsty. I had an unsettling dream the night before that the portrait was being painted at a local LDS meetinghouse and when I arrived I was told by a receptionist to wear a robe and nothing more. The halls were lined with dozens and dozens of nude portraits and every time I entered a room, it was already occupied by someone else getting their portrait done. All nude! I didn't know where I was supposed to go so the rest of my dream was spent frantically looking for an exit... Analyze that if you'd like.
In real life, it was finally demo time. My part was very simple - sit in this chair under this lamp and get nice and comfortable. And then don't move for a good long while. I stared at the back wall of the classroom and concentrated on my eyebrows. Work your magic, eyebrows... Keep the face relaxed. Don't blink too much. Don't look at the painter. And for the love of the Mona Lisa, do NOT break out in your trademark splotchy neck blush!
Our instructor explained what he was doing throughout the demo and answered various questions. People laughed a couple times - something about my eyebrows looking angry in the painting. Come on, eyebrows... But it put me at ease. "Uh, you guys realize I can't see what's going on, right?" There was no mention of any hideous deformities. Nothing like, "And you'll notice here is where the second chin begins..." followed by a generous brushstroke. At one point I was asked if my complexion leaned more towards pink. Well, obviously... And now slightly more-so.
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One hour later, we were done. A photo was taken so our instructor could work on the painting while the rest of us started our own portraits. My eyebrows did look rather intense, but when I snuck another peek at the end of class, I was surprised by what I saw...
In class we've talked a lot about painting what you see, not what you know. And that there is more to painting a portrait than putting in a lot of unnecessary details - you're looking more for the shapes and colors that capture a person's likeness. I worried that I wouldn't like or even recognize the likeness captured in the painting. I didn't think I'd want to know what our instructor, or anyone else, saw while observing me up there.
But I was wrong. The portrait itself, though still in its beginning stages, was lovely. I didn't necessarily think I looked lovely in the painting, it was the overall effect of seeing yourself as someone else might see you. And feeling okay with it.
If you're still reading this (anyone?), I would like to liken this small step beyond my comfort zone to a couple thoughts from author Brené Brown...
Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is just show up... Most people believe vulnerability is weakness. But really, vulnerability is courage... We must ask ourselves, are we willing to show up and be seen?
This painting, for me, was a souvenir of courage borne from vulnerability. Of a reluctant willingness to be seen. In it I recognized my shapes, my colors. And I decided it was nice, being seen like that.
