Give me another hit daddy....

We all have our drug....our vice, that thing that consumes and moves us. You know, that thing we CRAVE! Whether its a mind altering substance or our ability to alter the mind, we need it. Seemingly at least for the moment. We just "can't" live without it. It's borderline obsession... or a compulsion... or an obsessive compulsion! In any event, we desire to satisfy our oral fixations, fidgety behavior, sweats, hungers, itches, pains, laughter, compulsions of every kind. Good or bad we all have our drug. We all have our price too!

And for the price of about 50 cents over a pack of cigarettes, I gain access into a figure drawing class.

It begins on the drive over. Unquenchable anticipation as if I have a rendezvous with a secret lover. The excitement builds. I can't wait to set up my supplies...my paraphernalia if you will. The clean sheet of paper before me calls me. It knows my name. It knows what I want. Carefully I select my tool of choice. I feel everything. The light in the room. The heat and energy around me. The sounds of noiseless chatter. My body vibrates with excitement. Is that a drop of sweat? I begin to feel lightheaded. It is as though my feet have left the ground and I am floating...invisible. The model is poised. Before I even begin I study the lines and shapes before me. I notice how beautifully the shadows fall in place. The curves and forms draw me in. The first stroke is most satisfying to my addiction, but I need MORE! Three hours of bliss. My hand glides across page after glorious page of nothing more than compressed charcoal making marks on ground up and pulverized dried trees. Yet for me it is the place where space and time stand still. The eternity. The possibility. The miracle.

Now I have to wait a whole week for my next fix. I'll be itching and scratching until the next time. Maybe I'll need four hours....