The Dream

I dreamed I was in a classroom. I could see a geeky, middle-aged man. He was balding, and wearing a lab coat and round-framed eyeglasses. He was desperately setting up small, transparent vases on each of the desks. Into each vase he poured red water. A thick red particulate settled at the bottom of each vase. I knew this fluid was essence of rose, although it looked rather like dried blood mixed with water. After each vase was filled, ( he inserted a hollowed-out rose stem. )

Morphism

With the help of Pixelpunks, I made this little vision of me. She doesn't look a whole lot like me, I'm afraid, but it was the best I could do with what was at hand. The hair is too small, and the face too heart-shaped, but the clothes and tan are about right. Stupid tan. I'd rather be my usual pale, virgin-to-the-sun self, but all the outdoor dancing I've been doing has put my heliophobic wishes to rest.

I modelled for artists again, today. It was another easy modelling day. After the initial nude gesture drawings, it was all hands. I prefer modelling feet, since it leaves my hands free for reading, but at least I could move around plenty.

Originally, I'd been scheduled to model this afternoon, but was switched to the morning shift. When I asked why the change was made, I was told, "Well, we're working on musculature in the afternoon, so we need a guy, of course."

Damn my overly-voluptuous, soft, womanly form! All that weight-training, kung fu, and dance has been for naught! I guess it just takes a penis to be considered muscular.