So I will admit, that like many a swarthy sailor from 1944, I am kinda big fan of the classic "Pin-Up" gal. Now, I'm not talking about the more...extroverted, sold in a black-plastic-bag-on-the-bottom-shelf-of-Cumbys type of "pin up", but the classier gal, with a cute pose in a faded photograph or illustration. The very fact that I call 90% of their poses "cute" goes to show the "moral degradation" of our times I suppose, or at least that might be what my Great Grandmother might say on the matter. Since some of the cartoons we see on Saturday mornings these days look more provocative than the illustrated pin-ups of ages past, I have no real issues admitting my fascination with these smiling, skin-bearin' gals.
The previous night, I was keeping my friend company in our college's arts building. Its complicated labyrinth of hallways, stairways, and rooms seems like some sort of optical illusion out of an Escher painting at times, and company, especially at odd ours in the night, is usually a desired thing.
As she was working on her painting, I could help but feel the dregs of artist past being stirred in me. I was an art honor student in high school. I was too dedicated to the music and drama programs though to really develop that area of my life despite my strong desire to.
As a child, I would sneak away from the concession stand ran by my mother for Cheer Boosters, to walk around the empty art classrooms of the high school and marvel at these "brilliant" creators that were so much older and wiser than I myself was. I remember shyly stealing a sheet of copier paper, where-in I would show off my highly advanced drawing skills and leave it on the desk of the teacher in hopes to impress him. After all, not too many third graders could draw a nose like I could. My nose had upgraded from triangle to a mildly realistic curve after-all
Back in the arts building on college, watching my friend paint, I found myself remembering how much I did in-fact love art. By the end of the night I had a canvas and painting of my own, and as we meandered out of the building around 1:13am, I couldn't help but be excited for the possibility of another late-night art session.
So it was that tonight, when my friend asked if I wanted to venture up to the arts building, that I heartily agreed. Feeling guilty about not being able to contribute anything interesting to the blog lately, I came up with the idea that I'd try my hand in some 40's art. Pin-ups of course were my immediate thought and by the grace of my friend and her ridiculously sized roll of heavy-duty paper, I was soon at work on a life-sized pinup whose face I was hoping would mildly resemble my own.
As I swayed and danced around to Ella and Louis crooning in the background with the occasional upbeat Anderson Sister tune, I really found myself getting invested in my pin-up gal. My pencil hesitantly created the curve of her spine, the sharp lines of her heels, the polka-dots of her scandalous two piece. As my gal smiled confidently out of the paper I couldn't help but feel my own spine straighten in attention. Around 2am, when her painted outline was finally dried, I tucked my gal under my arm and we headed back to my dorm to pin up the Pin-Up.
The only spare wall space was behind our heavy front door, so we quickly tagged teamed unrolling the massive sheet across the chipped cinder-blocks. I laughed hesitantly, wondering what my sleeping and absent roommates would think of us having a scantily clad gal on the wall of a place that held weekly Bible studies....Maybe we could make her some clothing to pin up over her like a giant paper-doll?
Either way, my gal is now hanging proudly to my right, her gaze surveying the room with approval. Funnily enough, when you open the front door it looks like Betty is gazing out through the window at you. That's her name, by the way, Bushnell Betty, after the dorm building I reside in. A name like that is as unavoidable as getting a run in your hose swing-dancing.
So there you have it folks, Bushnell Betty is now a character in this blog...though I'm not sure how long she will remain on the wall..only morning will tell I suppose. I knew there was a lot of unexpected turns to be experienced throughout the duration of this experiment, but having to champion to keep a giant scantily clad female on our living room wall was not one I was expecting by any means.
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