Anxiety filled my body as I stood there. How would these people interpret me? Would they draw me fat, skinny, ugly? I feared the unknown. I climbed a step stool to reach the counter in which I would be contained by. I leaned against the wall; struck a pose. I shut my eyes for a mere moment. When they reopened, the room was dark. Except for a confined ray of light that was beating on my forehead. “Draw,” boasts Mr. Matz. Eager hands began to scratch the paper, leaving marks of charcoal that would soon become the mirror image of myself. My muscles tensed after what seems like hours. “Next position. New sketch. This time, with your left hand.” My body went numb. I once again heard the scratching, like nails on a chalkboard. Finally I convinced myself to look down. First, I see beautiful figurines, which are unbelievable for the time they were given. Then I look to the left and see a beached whale. Could it be? Surely that wasn’t their intention. Or was it? The session was almost over and minutes felt like hours. Beads of sweat began to precipitate my forehead. I got down and took the walk. The walk that would reveal the sketchings of me. What was I worried for? That they perceived me badly? Although some sketches were quite interesting, at the least, I learned a lot and thoroughly enjoyed my modeling experience.