Anthony

Anthony was my favorite male model. He died last year. He was found in the back of a U-Haul truck in the back of a pickup truck in the parking lot of a south Austin Walmart. His body had been there for at least a few days, and the weather had been warm. I was devastated. No one should have to die that way, alone. We didn't hang out, we weren't really friends. But, I had drawn him so many times. I was the studio monitor, so I would call him to set up a session. He would always say, "Right on!" when we had the session booked. He was smart, funny. An artist, performer, writer.

How to explain to someone who isn't an artist, the intimacy we feel with the model? Drawing the body, we come to learn the intimate details of the body. To draw is to caress. It is not necessarily sexual. Our culture in the United States is hyper-sexualized and puritanical all at the same time. Europeans think we're nuts. We are; every culture is nuts in its own particular way, I suppose. Most Americans cannot see the nude in any way except sexual.

I miss Anthony. A man that you could say I hardly knew. Yet, I felt that connection that perhaps only other artists could understand.