Her name was Mia, she was my first nude model. Right around the same time as this. It was a bad time in my head, blowing girl and food problems out of proportion. As a creature of the night, taking a three hour studio class that started at 7:45 AM didn't help.

The first time she visited class she wore black underwear. Maybe she was on her rag that day, maybe our teacher also knew that we weren't 'ready' for a nude model.

It was odd, though. Like Ka at the gallery two nights ago, a group of creatures that are more or less obsessed with sex just turn off that part of their mind. She's just an apple, or a box under light in front of them until it's all done. Then she's hung up, and she becomes sexy again.

My teacher spent the semester trying to break me of bad habits formed from 10 years of comic book drawing. There was a sense of realism that was unachievable, everything looked like a cartoon.

He'd make examples out of students throughout the class of 19. I was 'heavy on the hammer,' my errors were so dark on the newsprint that the paper became unusable after only a few tries at a certain line. I didn't fight him, I just felt incapable.

Eventually I saw that what he wanted me to do with my drawing wasn't so different from what I was trying to accomplish. Light source, perspective, starting with vague shapes, the most efficient way to construct a face, these were things that I took away from that class. So what, my subjects' features were a bit exaggerated, they looked different from everyone else's. No, I would not be a fine artist.

On the last day, when everyone was taking their one-on-one goodbye with the teacher, I said thanks to him. I think my last words were Thank you, I literally would have gone insane without your patience.

He smiled and said I did good work.

And Mike, he added, there's nothing wrong with doing it the Marvel way.