I’m Disappointed in My Boobs

I’m an artist. The pièce de résistance of a good artist is the ability to draw the human form.  

Let me tell you something … the male form simply is not pretty, at all. There are reasons why artists drew, painted and carved the female form – not the male form -- for millennia. Yes, we have Michelangelo’s David, but have you ever seen a real man look like that?

When creating, we draw from our own experiences and our own references. I understand how the female body connects because I have one. In drawing sessions with nude female models, I figure out the proper proportion of torso to hip by thinking how my own body works and moves.

However, my boobs fail me. When it comes to my drawings, I better use the model’s chest. My boobs don’t help me one bit because I often cannot find mine. Curse my genes!

My boob disappointment resurfaced on a recent run. This short story starts with a dead iPod Shuffle. I fried the poor thing in my car during a 100-degree-plus day. After two runs with crappy gym music, I remembered I had a Coby MP3 player stashed away. I never heard this Coby company, either, but I was desperate. I went ahead and named this player … ta-da … Coby.

Now, Coby does not have a clip like the golden iPod (RIP), so I carried him (note Coby’s gender) with my hand. After a few miles, I was annoyed with this whole carrying thing, so I stuck Coby in my sports bra. Women store things in their bras all the time. It seems to work for them. I thought I was brilliant. Now my hands were free! Coby stayed in place for a bit, in the imaginary place where my cleavage would exist, if I had such cleavage.

After a few minutes, I realized Coby was sliding down my tummy. He soon popped out from under my t-shirt, all smug and cocky, happy to be hanging free from his headphone cord. Damn boobs. Damn cleavage-less cleavage. Damn ineffective sports bras. Where was she as this was happening? Damn sweat. Worse yet, Coby was all sweaty as if he actually went on a trip himself.

I was humorously disappointed in Coby and my chest.

I’m getting a new player with a clip. There’s no need to remind myself of this experience … until the next time I’m in a drawing class.