A strange woman with perfect legs stood before me in lineup at coffee today.
Stealing my focus, I began drawing them with my eyes. This would make an incredible work of art, I thought to myself.
Only how do I go about asking a strange woman if she would be willing to pose for me to draw her exquisitely perfect legs.
Even her slender toes and polished groomed toenails, nestled perfectly into her open sandals, were splendid.
I could have taken a photo, had I my camera on me, but alas, I didn't. She might be offended by me photographing her.
I mean, she was a stunner, beyond any model I have seen in fashion magazines, and the angle looking down her leg was perfect.
So, boo-hoo, I lose. A perfect ten got away. I'm back to my old imagination, trying to remember what my eyes saw.
Furthermore, I have no idea how to deal with this socially. Frustrated artist.
dr. π (pi)
.