Keeping Schtum at Torrens Street; Model Life

It’s Wednesday evening and I’m busting some moves in the basement at Torrens Street’s Candid. I reminisce briefly of old times larging it on the dance floor next door; I wasn’t naked then, but getting there.
There’s a buzzy vibe tonight with total beginners and long time regulars packing it in, sketching on the floor, sitting on garden seats or braving it at the easel. I storm in exhausted and ready to take them on. It’s been a zigzag marathon today starting in Baker Street, afternoon Blackheath way, ending up in the Angel. But something feels rocking; at the girls school I was reminded of the first rule of life modeling: ‘When the going gets shit, strike it hotter baby!’ There’s no hiding your feelings – everything’s out for all to see so just grab their eyes with every curve you’ve got, lure their gaze with unfolding angles. You’ll reap the rewards; to see their complementary images I am reminded that it’s not so bad. And while I hold their attention, I feel their warmth. I imagine each of them wondering who I am, but really I know they’re just trying to measure me.
I’m intense, climactic; I may finally attempt a long lost goal of singledom with a capital S. Or is it C for celibacy? I have no idea how this is going to go… and a terrible track record when breaking up with boyfriends. 2 – 3 months is a record since age 16. At 33 it’s high time.
It’s just a trick of the mind surely, and then one can progress, but with so much more chi! So much more anticipation oozing, coaxing and channeling into friends, work, art.

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