I'm sure that every kid sometime during his education process was exposed to some type of art class even if it was pasting together colored paper collages in kindergarten.

I enrolled in a private art class in the summer of 1952, 1953 or 1954. I know I was in high school at the time but I don't remember which of the years I attended the class. But I do remember that the teacher was Phil Steele, who had recently arrived in Denver and was beginning to teach art on the top floor of a building across 15th Street from Woolsworth while at the same time creating men's fashion ads for the Daniels & Fisher department store.

During the time I was taking classes from Phil, I remember that he had three or maybe four models, one of them being, as I vaguely recall, a female ballet dancer who posed in the nude for a figure drawing class. Between poses, she would slip on a robe and walk around the mostly barren room that had been, in the early years of the 20 th century, a popular downtown ballroom. She walked silently, stopping here and there to take a look at a drawing. I never knew her name or spoke to her and, for the next fifty-plus years, the daydream of her idealized nude form was the stuff that comprised my sole knowledge of an in-the-flesh artist's model.

That has recently changed. I'm now acquainted by name with a half-dozen models and have posed with several of them. After all, posing on a platform the size of a double bed with another model is awkward unless I at least know their name.

An artist can hone their skill drawing a bowl of fruit, a vase of flowers, an ornate chair, or almost anything else, including the body of a human model. The main skill that a human model must possess is in finding a pose he or she can hold for 30 seconds, a minute, two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes, or, in case of the same pose for a three hour class, for twenty minutes at a time with a five minute break before going back to the pose for another twenty minutes. In other words, a model must become an inanimate object for extended periods.

I first tried modeling around five years ago when Margaret, a friend of many years, called me and asked if I'd be busy the following week to pose for an art group. The artists met at her condominium in Green Mountain and enjoyed the challenge of painting portraits of the volunteers who would pose for their weekly three-hour session.

So in the spring of 2007, after being out of work for over six months, I got a morning gig with the city of Lakewood posing for the weekly portrait painting group. For the first time I got paid and, for the first time, with a minimal amount of experience, I felt like a model.

After making some phone calls, I connected with the Rocky Mountain College of Art & Design (RMCAD). Due to coincidence or synergy or whatever it is that links the numbers on a particular lotto ticket to the six winning numbers, the founder of RMCAD was Phil Steele.

Sorry. I really can't tell you anything about modeling. Like any job, I might think I'm an expert after three months but in truth, three months doesn't mean beans.

Experience, experience, and more experience. Then there's getting to know other artists who will hire me during slow periods. All I can tell you is, in this new world of instant obsolesce, I'm just taking my first steps into what will, in all probability, be my final job. RMCAD is a wonderful school for those who love art and are looking forward to a serious art career so if you know of someone who fits this description, do me a favor and have them visit the school.