Barefoot

“This weighs a ton.” The art teacher places Ellie’s rucksack in the corner and pulls round the curtain so that she can undress. She wraps herself in a gown when she’s ready and steps out, bare feet that will pick up the art studio muck. The students are setting up as she checks the corner where she will pose. Warm enough, so she won’t need a heater. Good natural light. When it’s time, she slips off the gown and moves through the two minute poses before settling into a twenty minute one. At first it always drags, but sometimes, when it ends, she wishes she had more time.

People sometimes ask how she can sit still for so long and not get bored. She tells them she doesn’t mind but doesn’t go into details; how yesterday, in Worthing, she imagined what it would be like to be a teapot. Would being filled with tea be a beautiful experience - or would a teapot prefer to be empty? What would it be like to be poured? She was excited to return home, put her teapot on her kitchen table and study it, turning to find the angle that suited it best. She sat for a time with it on her lap. Her house was full of objects, and each deserved such contemplation.

But today, she has a mission. Her favourite thing to do is to recall walks in the countryside. Ellie got into hiking across the Downs because it was cheaper than most other activities when she was a student. She knows it well enough that she could trace a route step-by-step during a long pose, her body still while her spirit walks.

Today she imagines that she is on the hilltops near the art college, looking for the right place. Somewhere that won’t be obvious. A place where she can dig. In her mind, she moves a little faster than her normal walking pace, flaming footprints stretched out behind her. She likes to imagine her footprints leaving a trace.

In the art college is a carpet on a stairway, woven with the image of a woman’s feet, those of the dancer Tilly Losch. She’d originally made the marks while wet from the bath and her husband had memorialised them. Ellie has placed her own feet against the dancer’s, loving this moment of communion with someone who died before she was born.

After the session, the artists pack up and Ellie darts about in her gown to see the drawings. She always looks at the feet, some of which are little more than ghost traces. Feet are hard to draw.

The rucksack is heavy. She sets out from the college following the path to the downs, relieved she only has to carry this weight one way. She has time to take the journey slow, stopping to rest frequently. It takes longer than usual to reach the hilltop, following the same route she took during the poses. Everything is as it was then, and she finds the perfect spot, hidden by a bush, and takes out her collapsible spade. She reassembles it, then digs. The hole doesn’t need to be too deep, she figures - she can come back and check on it anyhow. The slow digging takes as long as the walk, but the few passers-by don’t spot the growing hole. Perfect.

When it’s deep enough, Ellie opens the rucksack, takes out the bronze casts of her feet, and places them in the earth. She doesn’t know how long they will be down here, but she likes to imagine her feet saved forever and imagining is the important thing.

Some Background

The carpet in this story is in West Dean College. It was made when Tilly Losch (1903-1975) was married to industrialist Edward James. I first learned about it from Rosie Garland and Jane Glennie’s video poem about Losch, Because Goddess Is Never Enough.

There’s a particularly good hiking trail around West Dean, which overlaps with part of the South Downs Way. The land artist Andy Goldsworth placed 13 chalk boulders in the landscape. It’s a lovely walk, and finding the sculptures is fun. I wrote about doing this walk in 2019.

Recommendations

This story was beta read by my friend Frankie, who works as a life model. While I don’t draw often, I’ve learned to appreciate the act of drawing through having friends involved with life drawing. Frankie shares photos and drawings on her instagram. She also has a patreon to support her at art school - she’s currently studying at West Dean College, which houses the Tilly Losch carpet.