How interesting...

Sunday, I went to a play. This is a rare and wondrous event for the cow-waving woman, tied as I am to hearth and home with the Pickle baby. She is happy in her Pickle pen, and now can be left for around 4 hours without worry, so I journeyed out to Monte Rio for Art, a play originally written in French, translated and performed on Broadway, where it won a Tony. It was interesting on many levels. Only three actors, all men. The action centered around Serge buying a painting, a white painting with just a few diagonal, whiter stripes, and the ensuing opinions (or non-opinions) of his friends. This play was written by a woman, and all three men were somewhat effete, although all portrayed as heterosexual. Must be a French thing. I liked them. They were like my girlfriends. I especially liked the ditzy character who kept trying to conciliate, and wound up on the edge of a nervous breakdown. And all throughout the play, I kept thinking I knew one of the actors, but could not recall the circumstances of our acquaintance. It niggled at me and niggled at me. And last night, I opened the program and remembered. Aha! He modeled for my figure drawing class, and I have several drawings of him in my portfolio, naked. No wonder he was hard to place! I especially remembered that hip-cocked stance he affected many times during the play. He was like a little bird without his clothes, not many angles and kind of tubular, hard to draw. But he was also animated and sweet. And a fine actor, too, I found out.