Charcoal, paper, and boobs

In my art class this semester, we're doing lots of figure drawing with the same model. Her name is Renee. Her face is kind of plain, and I don't think she's a very good conversationalist, but she is stunning when she poses. Drawing her makes me want to work to appreciate and take care of my own body. Drawing other women's bodies is so weirdly wonderful. Just the simple appreciation of curvy bodies being more interesting and challenging to draw than stick-thin ones, of really truly finally maybe beginning to understand how beautiful we are all, under our clothes, even just for ourselves... it really makes all the difference in my attitude toward the world in those quiet moments with my coffee and charcoal early in the morning. I cannot tell you the magnitude of that feeling when it fills me up twice a week, when I don't feel bad about being rounder, when I feel incredibly empowered out of nowhere. I always want to run around the room and tell her how wonderful it is to draw her and what a difference it makes... but considering I stare at her body for six hours a week and transpose it onto paper, I think it might make her nervous.