When Life Models Gather ~ A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 3

In a small seaside town on the coast of England, was an ambitious, older female model. She was quite large and working class. She loved her work and had done it for many years in her region. A dream of hers was to bring together life models in a group or gathering, and not just from close by to her. She had an idea about those models already, and was keen to stretch her net further and meet models from far away. From places where there was a huge variety of models and lots of younger ones too. When Facebook came along, it was an answer to her prayers, and soon she realised she could make a group there, at the end of 2009. She called it Life Models Only, and it was private – it needed to be, since some models wouldn’t join otherwise. In any case, they might be sharing nude drawings of themselves.

It was small to begin with, not reaching very far, but even this was a big step, simply joining up the models most local to her as well as a few of the more trusted artists. Some of the models were artists as well or married to artists so there was an organic way that people fitted into the group.

It wasn’t really until a couple of years later that some models from different counties and London had been grasped, and then the purpose of the group began to grow too. The conversations became more lively and you could tell that the contributors were really excited to be talking to one another for the first time. The leader, the woman who originated the group – let’s call her Leslie since I have lost touch with her – was extremely delighted by everyone’s interest and would tell the group how happy it made her to bring them together. What had begun as a handful of people, then settled at around 50 for a while, and now was over 100 and growing. It was 2012 and she had some of the most well known models in London there, who were also in the business of bringing models together. They knew lots of other models and kept adding people. For me there was a peak perhaps during that year when it was still very fresh, as well as 2013.

Leslie arranged gatherings at a venue local to her where a group of models from all over the country would pose together and be drawn by artists. Something similar had been organised in the North of England, though it wasn’t model-led. London Drawing were holding ‘The Drawing Theatre’ regularly which would involve a few models in theatrical tableaux in bigger venues. Art Macabre, originally ‘Death Drawing’, offered a gothic variety. Draw in Brighton held ‘The Drawing Circus‘, along similar lines but perhaps with more models, some being musicians, and on more of a collective-run basis. Spirited Bodies was in its heyday, organising multi-model extravaganzas including experienced and totally new models, mostly in London though we did also venture to Scotland. We held smaller workshops as well, such as the pictures are from, which were really for newcomers to try and learn how to model.

So there was this thriving, exciting, creative energy across the UK for experimenting, expanding and reaching new people with life drawing, and I have possibly missed out some projects! Certainly more emerged over the years, but these are what I remember from that time. Big events would attract models who travelled long distances to take part. It was a bit like the thrill of participating in a Spencer Tunick event, for that kind of person. We loved modelling per se; and we loved it even more in large groups. It was euphoric; like a rave, but with no drugs or loud music; just something purely natural and artistic. It was primal. All these different bodies feeling equal and accepted. Disabled people; their carers; people of all or as many ethnicities as possible; all genders; all expressions of humanity, all shapes and colours and ages; and on a common wavelength of art and body acceptance. It was glorious.

I remember the delight I felt at discussing matters of our modelling work with the Life Models Only group. This would also happen with ‘The List’* email group, where one found oneself eagerly awaiting others’ responses when something significant was under the models’ microscope of analysis. It made me feel empowered I think, with regard to my work and my rights. If something happened at a job which didn’t feel right, I could immediately let one of these groups know, whichever was most appropriate. I could receive others’ take on it and perhaps encouragement towards questioning whatever wasn’t sitting well. It gave one power to be able to say to an organiser, “This isn’t how other groups operate”, to be able to tell them real examples of how other places dealt with situations.

* see A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 1 and A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 2

When exactly Life Models Only became so large that it ceased to be a place where conversations felt intimate and safe, I can’t recall now, perhaps around 2014 – 2015. It felt out of control so I stopped tuning in. Other groups had emerged on Facebook and sometimes for a while that initial excitement would be there if something juicy came up. Leslie enjoyed having created an empire and all the attention it brought her. It would attract different jobs and opportunities to her and the group. Art projects which might not be paid but were fun. She met lots of new people. There was a cross-over with people who were naturists, and some of those were also into sexual freedom. This was a new arena for Leslie and she was a very curious person, open to discovering new avenues to explore.

At some point, her judgement seriously lapsed, because some of the men in the group had a predator nature that needed to be managed (and kicked out). Their inappropriate advances were not what other life models appreciated, and exactly the sort of thing, experience has shown us has to be kept in check in such groups online. The delicate matter was, for Leslie, these men represented a fun opportunity, while for other women they were a pest. I have to say, her naiveté aside, and inability to dance such a nuanced line, I also have compassion for how her experience as an older, larger woman exploring her sexuality later in life was her priority. Didn’t I get the chance to do that when I was young? Did I take for granted being found attractive? Hadn’t I known in my bones since I was a teenager that it was imperative for me to try lots of things out. To have different partners and see what was possible and push my boundaries. I salute anyone choosing that journey at any time in life, and even more so when they are older. That’s how you find out what you like, or it’s a way to do so. It’s not for everyone, but if it calls you, go follow. Nothing is simply good or bad, and while many of us would readily banish those pesty men, for her, they were her chance. Surely such unions ought to be encouraged where all parties are happy to be at the party.

That said, the group became a car crash, taken over by what to most people felt like a sleazy cartel. Not a pleasant place to be, certainly not what it had originally been. It was entertaining at best, if you looked on in detached incredulity. It may or may not have worked for Leslie in the end, it was hard to tell since matters spiralled way beyond any sane intervention. Such was the demise of Life Models Only which went out in a fiery blaze in late 2017, along with at least one other group, also infiltrated by the wrong people. This is a cautionary tale which I share because it is easily forgotten yet contains important messages. It’s not about Leslie’s folly, or all the bad people. It’s about when our passions exceed our awareness of others, and how overall, the experience of being part of what she created, allowed some of us to learn from it.

So a new life model group on Facebook was created which still goes, (though it is only London wide) and led by someone who had experience of all these forerunners, thus the aforementioned mistakes are mitigated against thoroughly. It seems it is quite a rare person in the scene who has the time, awareness and inclination to manage one of these groups. The group feels safe, but where we are now in 2025, and how many years it has been running, it contains 3.5 thousand members, so long gone are the days of natural, easy, intimate connection. For that I tend towards the people I already know. Maybe one day I will rediscover a smaller space as well, where people can connect in a safe group of optimum size.

The complexity of Leslie’s circumstance sheds light on the very sensitive matters pertaining to the holding of groups of people who practice nudism in some form, even as life models. They can be a magnet for men or people who seek sexual fulfilment/connection, or intimacy, and that may be hidden behind their front as a model or artist. While the full blown manifestation of this is generally inappropriate in the life drawing scene; in essence, it isn’t strange or wrong. By that I mean the energetic impulse of attraction and connection. It is actually natural; what is a problem is when it manifests in a predatory manner.

It is normal that we want to explore that part of ourselves and find others to do so with who may share an artistic interest. The nakedness in life modelling is an access point for sensing sexuality; we literally display our sex. Very often, the way these energies may be explored in the life drawing scene, is extremely subtle and in fact entirely unspoken. It may be a flirt but not necessarily with an individual; rather with a whole group, or platform. The response may be a drawing and a friendship. Truly it’s an incredibly healthy place to experience and share creative energies, where nothing physical beyond the posing generally takes place.

It’s a positive, uplifting feeling of sharing our naked selves with others, and being appreciated. It engenders moods and sensations of all manner of human experience, which goes much further than sexuality alone. This extraordinary exchange of energies can go a very long way; and for some, it takes the place of intimate partnership. It’s a favoured alternative. It means they can enjoy multiple attractions, without the complications of deeper entanglement! I think it’s pretty advanced as a life strategy, if that’s your thing. I also think it’s important to say that how we conduct ourselves is very pertinent. We must behave impeccably, or it will be detected easily, amongst such a sensitive crowd. Intent that crosses a line, even if it is only felt, will be noticed. Our true essence ideally resonates harmoniously with the others in the group. It’s about self awareness, and not projecting our desires onto others unduly.

There’s also the matter of distinguishing between very different scenes. There may be some nudity in common; but the norms, behaviours, vibes and expectations are completely different. It’s true that scenes can vary and encompass a variety of shades – like the swingers among the naturists; or erotic life drawing within life drawing as a whole. But these sexier strands are clearly demarcated subcultures.

I have shared drawings from a Spirited Bodies workshop in 2013 which was held at a community centre in Holborn, central London. Several people were learning how to model, practising different poses. There was an older couple among the group who were coming to terms with the woman’s loss of eye sight and mobility. They were very sweet as was the whole group who were wonderfully supportive of each other, and diverse. Artists captured them in a variety of ways. Beautiful memories.

These ‘Story of Life Modelling’ posts began on the Newington Green Life Drawing site.

Coming Home to Myself

As I stare into the camera with my long hair framing my face, there is a light side and a dark. My eye traces the silhouette of the beautiful left, and in her softly refined cheekbone curve to the jaw, I don’t see me any more. Mum is looking back from the screen, directly meeting my gaze. She is in me, and my portrait won’t let me forget; she is watching me.

It is her youthful beauty channeling through the light side of my face, wondering what I will do next. I search for condemnation in her pupil; does she mind the way I write about her? I find only a questionning, a look that is checking.

The light side is only a sliver the width of an eye; grossly out-proportioned by the shadow. The darker part is tired and pasty, baggy-eyed; wearing the weight of my worry like the picture of Dorian Gray. It is real life lived, completing a model with stories to tell. Only squinting can I shed the ugliness to reveal a blurry pretty me/my Mother all in one.

In Victoria Rance’s class I agreed to sit, on Zoom, finally giving in this term. Yesterday evening an experienced class drew me in Steve’s clean studio space. This morning I was at home in Brockley for beginners.

Looking straight on, in Victoria’s drawing this morning

Last night was my first good night’s sleep in the last four. Returning to my own bed with its double mattress all to myself, helps to reboot my insomniac system. I spread out luxuriating, stretching my limbs to each corner as far as they’ll go. I feel the cracks in the walls, the raw plaster above my head, the drafty windows and their damp underside; pictures on the walls telling pieces of my history (my sister calls my home ‘the museum’) and my bones know they are home. I haven’t had a home this long in my life ever till now, and I know its value. Not just in terms of housing benefit. It is a sanctuary.

In the afternoon I met one of my oldest friends on the Heath. We talk about how we are different when we are spending time in our homes alone, to when we are staying with our partners. She has a similar set-up. Sometimes coming home is a reconnection with self, and this is something we hadn’t always realised in our lives. Now in our 40s it is really clear; but when we were younger, we didn’t always notice the disconnection.

Here is a short video I shot yesterday in Bowers Marsh, close to where Steve lives. I was very tired and spontaneous; it’s a bit rambly, but honestly I love the ambience! It wouldn’t be the same on a grey drizzley typical day, but here in gorgeous Spring sunshine, something is working. It continues from yesterday’s theme of sex and connection.

Lockdown Loosenings

To celebrate the easing of lockdown here in the UK, Steve and I took a train to Shoeburyness to walk in the sun – the weather was on our side, and being a Monday, there weren’t crowds. We hadn’t been there in months, since the Summer perhaps, and we headed out towards the remote island of Foulness which is mostly inaccessible as occupied by the Ministry of Defense. We didn’t get that far however, as our usual walk along the beach was blocked off. It is also MOD land and never having been there on a Monday before, we didn’t realise it is only open at the weekend or after 5pm.

We continued our walk around Great Wakering instead, and enjoyed an ice lolly in the church graveyard. We stopped for a browse at the cute garden centre, and walked back along the sometimes pavementless roads towards the beach at Shoeburyness. There was an invitingly low branched tree on the way, which I couldn’t resist climbing in. Then up to the sea, which was a long way out, so we sat on a bench above the sand, watching a set of horseriders far away galloping across the sandy plain. To our left a fence cut off the main beach from the land which is off-limits for the MOD. It was a day when everything looked prettiest, gleaming in the sunshine. Even the long outstretching sand flats, because their little pools of water in between waves of wet sand, glistened brightly offsetting their shady counterparts.

My sleep had been curtailed the last couple of nights; because of the full moon I thought, and perhaps some early premenstrual tension. There is a sense of vulnerability in revealing oneself so readily in this blogging. Opening up, can be liberating; communicating; reaching out – but also somehow open to voices somewhere out there criticising. One has to be ready for that; let that be. Only my inner voice matters. I feel good to be creating and sharing regularly. I enjoy the challenge, and a little feedback. The sense of being more in communication with those who engage. I might not know who or when, but these things will emerge. There can be dialogue in unexpected ways. I feel it will help to manifest things which will be good for me, ultimately. By being expressive, letting the world know, where I am at.

It felt like a good day and place for another vlog. I love to be in beautiful natural places, and this is one I don’t get to all the time. What to say? I looked inside and I was reflecting on the blog post I had shared yesterday. About my 2016 performance art, and also perhaps more personally, about my approach to relationships – my pattern. This is the raw stuff. How it all begins. What happens inside me; how I operate, and what I am aware of. I was still thinking about this, and so I spontaneously shared to the camera a bit more about these thoughts. To do with my sexuality drive and how I think this was formed. The value I feel in my experience; what can feel unusual about it, as well as the risks. It felt like something worth sharing. It was a beautiful day by the seaside and I enjoyed the moment. I hope you do too! It is a light-hearted thing, but there is a heartfelt essence.

I also recently read about the asexuality movement, and it made me think how valuable that knowledge is, what those activists have to say.

And this was quite good for teaching kids about sex and relationships.

Old Fashioned Subtle Sexism and Implied Body Shaming

I’ve been a life model for a number of years now and fancied a change. I’d like to work with children but have no such qualification beyond babysitting as a teenager and modelling occasionally. One option is Teaching Assistant, so I looked it up and (a) the job description wreaks of “normal” job in a way I’m not sure I can handle any more. (b) The pay rate is low. I mean I often refuse that rate as a life model. I can earn a lot more as a life model, and to some extent being freelance can negotiate my own terms.
There is so much freedom and variety in my job and this mere cursory glance at another option made me appreciate that again. For a job looking after children, committing to regular hours for weeks on end, only minimum wage (or London Living Wage?) applies. Disgusting!

On the other hand I was thinking about what’s been bugging me as a life model recently. Certain jobs were making me uncomfortable. Even if I felt appreciated for my talent as a model, I also felt judged, subtly. These are jobs where I happen to fit into the artists’ idea of attractiveness in a body for them to draw. I am slim, a bit curvy, young(ish!), fit, reasonably flexible, not bad looking… and I know how to behave as life model in the way that is desired. I don’t just mean turning up on time and holding poses. I know how to engage with the artists and make suitable conversation. They want something reflected back to them which is how they see themselves as artists. They want to feel appreciated and to feel at ease with you.

What was bothering me was, these jobs while often better paid, do not always feel ethical. I know that they never book a fat model, an old model or a male model for example. They have asked me to recommend models and I’ve connected them with various. Not all have gone down too well. One was too old, too political and possibly opinionated. Another was an astrophysicist by day and they didn’t find her conversation stimulating in the way they wanted from their life model. Perhaps she hadn’t switched off yet from the day job!

At another such group I enquire what their other models are like. “Oh we don’t have any horrible bodies here,” I am told, and now I know I have completely strayed from the land of the politically correct. Which is partly a relief for the honesty, but in this case it smells of elitism, and I ask myself what is the appropriate response from me? At the time I say nothing as the conversation meanders on, and she speaks of their appreciation of fit bodies, with the strength to hold more ambitious poses. The woman I spoke to is not an organiser, just a regular punter. It’s true that when the model is really exerting their self, it can make for more compelling poses. But that wouldn’t rule out lots of older, male or larger models.

Is it for me to question who they want to draw? Is it a matter of aesthetics? And personalities? I am grateful to sometimes be among the chosen, but as someone who has run my own groups for all body types (to encourage body confidence) and gone to other groups to draw, I know of brilliant models outside of the obvious mainstream norms, and many of these would automatically be excluded from the jobs I described. Part of this it seems to me, is perpetuated by us models, picking up on the standard and only recommending similar types. After all, we want the work.

Posing one on one for an artist can be like a mini-relationship, an affair, a courtship. It might last days, span over weeks, months… Unless it’s for a commission or similar endgame, it’s very much about a connection of personalities. An exchange that is more than time and physical effort, rather an energetic connection. Sometimes it exists artistically alone, a musing inspiration, but other times I sense a girlfriend experience of sorts. Male artists with disposable income and space in their lives.

I used to be a hostess in Soho clip joints. Male clients paid excessively for time in my lingeried company, sipping expensive drinks. They likely entertained ideas of further/sexual developments. My job was to keep them there. Of course now “art” is occurring, so a higher purpose is implied, or at least perhaps a more acceptable relationship/activity. Several muses may be simultaneously on the go, alternating weeks, months, or exclusivity may be preferred for an intense period. Sharing an interest that the wife doesn’t (any longer), if she ever existed. Sometimes I am a cheap counsellor for their woes as well as indulging or reprimanding their neuroses, and providing conversation with my body to be looked at, submitted for inspection.

It can feel like that with a group of artists too. They fall in love with me a little, collectively, unanimously, and hopefully I with them. We bond for a while, over years at intervals. It is loose, casual, but they know me so well. I share brief intimacies in passing and they enjoy glimpses of my truth. Being able to be with artists in this way, to organically make this relationship work, is perhaps an unwritten skill, talent in the job description. It’s such a personal thing that is more than about looks; though I think often those talented in this context seem to share certain traits. A kind of physical beauty, and inner charm, genuine sharing without being too shy, or domineering. Exuding happy, contented, feel-good vibes. Being comfortable in this slightly old fashioned at times role.

I am sure more varied models could take on the position (and surely sometimes do) if they wanted it, but does the fit feel so natural? Do they feel accepted? Or is it just that I don’t know, and out there actually all variations coexist, with some artists choosing less typical muses, or even being less typical (and male) themselves? I hope so. I would love to hear about that. It would make me feel less like an anachronism!

I have modelled for female artists individually, but only a couple of long series which were both for committed projects where I had the desired form.

There are other groups and artists, not of this type, and fortunately now many so, who feel wholly ethical. They employ all good models and enjoy full diversity as much as is available. Every group has its own vibe to a certain extent attracting models and artists who fit in, though this is a broad spectrum. My feelings in this piece reflect my realisation that I felt more comfortable in these more I think ethical work situations. Yet there is also a place for more intimate encounters of the muse variety if not being outright physical or overtly sexual. These can be a healthy transaction, an exchange of ideas and growing friendships. It’s positive and it’s a privilege to explore connection outside of the romantic sphere (and be paid for it). It can run parallel to other relationships, offering other avenues to learn about ourselves. It’s the sort of job where you negotiate the boundaries, in terms of conversation as well as poses. What they are, for how long and when to take breaks. Do you also share meals, or go for a drink with them? Sometimes, but it usually stays professional. I mean it always does, but sometimes you become friends.

In Hammersmith, by Barry

In Muswell Hill

At Lauderdale House, in Sharon’s class

Above are some recent drawings of me from various classes. Posing with Goddess props at Cody Dock, in Tim’s class.

Kate Tempest & The Brand New Ancients

Billy Bragg + Sound of Rum - Sun 13 November 2...

Billy Bragg + Sound of Rum – Sun 13 November 2011 -0099 (Photo credit: The Queen’s Hall)

Kate Tempest poured wisdom in street tales of ordinary folks struggling, loving and dying in our monstrous every day world. At 26 she has a gift for slicing through character.

Her delivery is understated, her accent could have been affected but it works for her act, and she did tell stories beautifully. Her timing was accentuated by a 4 piece ensemble of musicians emoting her messages, backing her characters. We followed the narrative and sometimes she rapped with a mic, striding the stage. She looks like a child disarming with her wit, unbothered by her appearance, very casual, long curly blond hair.

It kept coming back, the theme of being real in a world obsessed by airbrushing and status – how we bow to that instead of to real people, each other. Kate captured that, by dissecting the mind of a bar maid, the true friendship between hardened criminals and other flawed ordinaries, with poetry. I didn’t cry but I almost did. Nothing in particular really. Just her general knack for teasing something about my heart. I smiled at her a lot, so glad for her talent to shine and inspire others. She can affect people and gave me shivers – that counts.

Brand New Ancients celebrates everyday heroes that we all are; surviving today, and sees the best in each and every ugly one of us, because nothing is black and white.

A matinee audience of school children applauded.

“Thing is, you’re perfect. Because of your imperfections.”

“25 is halfway between non-existence and the infinite.”

Lives of certain individuals from uncouth beginnings, random encounters, climactic violence between the afflicted, addicted and broken; to a moment of heroism and realisation. An old codger dies in Thailand not quite happy with his bride.

“The gods are right here, as farfetched as it sounds, every one’s a god, no kings, no crowns
Just us, one being, infinity, that’s holy, gods messed up lonely
Squashed stressed out dumbed down raging wasted same as it ever was
Brand new ancients”

HoneyMoon Currents

There was something about him as we were chopping up the vegetables, so gentle, a tenderness in his eyes and in the corner of his smile. I felt comfortable. He was cheeky too, in the subtlest of ways, as I could tell he did not want to offend me.

When we sat down to dinner I talked about my work and my project. About being a nude model and for some reason how other people see this. He asked if other people judged me for what I do, and I replied that everyone in my life had gotten used to what I do, though there were surely some more distant family members who looked down on it, but I hardly saw them. I don’t think they look down because of the nudity come to think of it, rather the low status and low pay, the insecurity it bodes for my future.

It was the most probing thing he said, maybe in his tone, and I probably enjoyed revealing a little more of myself. Most of all I liked that he wanted to know. He seemed interested in the right way.

I feel a current streaking through me, and I am not sure if it is anger any more. It feels more like vitality, energy, a healthy desire to move things, move myself forwards. I think it is the drive of my surging genes, coming into focus as I hit the ground stumbling at first, yet quickly picking myself up, brushing the dust off and launching straight for the next goal – I am in my mid 30s and there is no sign of a baby; I have successfully maintained black sheep status since puberty in my left-of-centre middle class with the most righteous of roots family – THERE IS SO MUCH TO DO! And I feel like a warrior woman with some comic turns!