Knock, wait, enter!

A long, long time ago, artist number one picked up a small, charred branch from a dead fire (possibly the day after cavemen introduced fire to their hangouts). Something clicked in his head, and he drew a sketch on the cave wall.

That’s how it was in the distant prehistoric past, yet even today, art students in fine arts academies stand before a nude model, holding the same kind of charcoal.

In the academy building, you might see a simple note pinned to some classroom doors:

NUDE – KNOCK! WAIT!

But maybe someone won’t notice the note, or maybe the assistant forgets to put it up. That someone will walk in without knocking. Walk in without waiting. And then they’ll think:

There’s something seriously wrong with these students.

Because in the middle of the room, a naked model is sitting there, surrounded by people of all ages standing at their easels. Men and women from different years glare at her with such disapproval, you’d think they were angry at her for being naked.

So why the charcoal, the hateful stares, and the furious scribbling? What’s the deal?

In the end, it’s just breaking the image into chunks. Turning it into patches of light and shadow until the figure looks like it’s dissolving into a blur — no edges, no details, just the big, lazy shapes holding it together.

And if someone thinks, These people must be crazy, so what?

They won’t even notice it.

They know that a drawing, a painting, or a sculpture almost always starts with a loose, rough shape. Only later do you sharpen the details you want to highlight and refine.

In the army, the corporal yells “Attention!” and everyone stiffens. In a drawing class, the teacher just says, “Squint — you’ll see more.”