By Bill Sullivan for COVER Magazine 1997

Drawing the figure has as many variations as history itself. There is great enjoyment in recognizing the differences of lush romanticism of an Art Nouveau figure, one interpreted by the structural complexities of Cubism or the shimmering color of Impressionism.   

Nudity is good for you. Improved health is a direct result of letting the sun shine on your naked flesh.  Sure, this notion may seem a little simplistic, but throughout recent history naturist movements, from the early twentieth century cult of the body to the Woodstock nation, have drilled into us the image of smiling buck nekked folks partaking in this charming collective delusion. And even if it really isn’t true, so what?   

Drawing the figure has as many variations as history itself. There is great enjoyment in recognizing the differences of lush romanticism of an Art Nouveau figure, one interpreted by the structural complexities of Cubism or the shimmering color of Impressionism.   

I remember when I was four or five being able to draw, when I would sit down with a piece of paper I could make a house with a chimney that could stand up straight and not go crooked. Unlike most children I was able to draw in perspective, I had that ability. In 1957 when the Andrea Doria sank in the Atlantic Ocean it was reported in the newspaper, we did not have television. I drew pictures of that ship. I would draw whatever captured my imagination at the time.