I glance down at a drafted drawing of a woman in the presence of an artist.
“This concept!
This artwork!
It’s absolutely beautiful
It’s sensational
It made me feel things I cannot describe”
“When you finish can I keep it?
I’d like to hold onto it for a very long time”.
He smiles and nods as if to give it to me another day.
He leaves for the evening with a leather jacket dangling around his shoulder.
As I daydream about getting down to brass.
My eyes gaze at the bare wall in front of me.
Where his artwork could be placed just magnificently.
What will hold it up?
I wondered.
I lay down and begin imagining that I am a thumbtack.
His thumbtack.
Strange… I’m allowing these images of objectification to enter my mind.
But I have these feelings now.
Whereas I didn’t before.
Because he did not resist the other purposes I felt I had at the time.
Leading up to this moment
He never tried to make me dull.