Fergus County argus. [volume] (Lewistown, Mont.) 1886-1946, 1905-08-04
THE STUDIO GIRL.
Food is the Real Bane Of Her Exist
ence.

enCcs
No wild Bohemian side has ever
been extensively developed in this
studio existence in this country-not
even in gay New York; and if not
in Gotham much less so in Boston,
where the artistic center of the city
at Copley square has certainly moth
ing of the aspect of the Quarter Latin.
You need not overhaul your Murger
and Du Maurier in the hope of learn
ing what the art life of Boston is
like-you will only learn what it ism t
like. Whatever bad American may
become when he goes to Paris before
he dies, he will not acquire an inordi.
nate love for beer and an extraordi-
nary hatred for baths under the fierce
light which beats upon him from the
illuminated dome of the state house.
Among the professional artists of an
American city there is ordinarily a
spirit of hard work and respectable
living, and the student of today fol-
lows their example.
The studio girl, anxious to lose no
time, usually rises at about o'clock
and prepares hurried breakfast with
the help, or sometimes the opposition,
of her gas stove, and then does her
best to make the room appear-and
smell-as if no cooking had ever been
done in it; as, indeed, there often
hasn't been, for girls who prefer to
save delay rather than digestion have
been known to breakfast morning af-
ter morning on pickles and pie.
Breakfast over, the studio maid, if
she is still student, goes over to
her class at the Museum school and
settles down to a forenoon of hard
drawing or painting from the live mod
ell. It is really hard, for the strain
on mind and body is far greater than
is understood by the people who watch
an artist at work and wish that they
might have such an easy task. To
crown all, the art student is likely to
end the mornings toll in one of those
fits of disbursement to which brain
workers are so liable, and perhaps
scrape out all that she has done, leav-
ing literally nothing to show for her
long hours of labor.
However, it is lunch time, and lunch
brings tea and tranquility. A friend
or several friends may drop in at this
time, and either the gas stove is call
ed upon again or they go out to lunch
and spend merry hour IN some near
by restaurant over croquettes and
cake. with plenty of fun and "shop
talk for an accompaniment. After
lunch the student returns to her class.
AS the light wanes the chance of
successful painting diminishes, and
the palate is duly scraped off late in
the afternoon. The young artist may
then put over o'clock tea to pos
sible, probable or inevitable callers,
unless she becomes possible, prob
able or inevitable caller herself at
some other girls studio.
By this time, as is natural, she is
usually worn out, but she must new
ertheless sally forth in search of din
ner. which may be a matter of invOlv-
ing careful calculations as to expense
when the month and its allowance
are coming to an end together. The
difference between a % cent and so
cent dinner may be thing of moment
at such time, when an unwiSe but
irresistible desire for some expensive
dish will disOrganize all ones little
finances for a week to come.
In fact, the food question is the
bane of the studio girls life. Just
when inspiration is at its height and
she feels sure that she shall no long
er be what Whistler called 1.-The great
est artist unhung." she is obliged to
leave off to run to the grocery (which
is known as a "delicatessen shop
around Copley square for butter, bread
and beans). She often remarks, st
would be easy enough for artists if
they didn't have to eat. The time,
trouble and expense it takes could be
much better expended in painting a
new picture"
She sleeps in her studio, too, and
regrets that sleeping also involves
great waste of time. A couch, which
is actually a big box artistically dis
guised with gay upholstery. and of i'm
mense storage capacity makes her a
very rOomy and comfortable bed I'm.
less she prefers a hammock. as many