"You Know You Are Dating An Artist When..."

July 31, 2020

From the "You Know You're Dating An Artist When..." Files

A fun little memory of an ex-boyfriend...that moment when your kinky lil' brain puts the cart before the horse ;)

He ushers me into his room/studio then disappears downstairs to fetch us some cold beer. As I make myself comfortable, my eyes roam the familiar walls, a few cool and nostalgic Star Wars toys on display, pictures of friends and family on pinned up on the mirror. And my favorite, his original ***tings hanging on the walls.

My eyes move from the walls to the work table. Spread with ***t, sketchbook, and the canvas he'd been working on, a full-length portrait of a harvest Goddess, wide eyes beckoning, Grecian-style dress clinging tightly to her exaggerated curves (hmmm, now is it just me or is that MY silhouette?? I think, blushing momentarily), bare feet firmly planted on the soil beside her overflowing cornucopia.

As I scan the ***tered art supplies, the tools of his trade and a sight I always cherish, my eye rests on the laptop computer, pushed against a corner of the large table, youtube screen up and one of our favorite albums playing. I look a little closer and see a few other tabs opened up at the top of the screen. Squinting and leaning closer, I am surprised and a little embarrassed to see the search, "Women's Bare Feet", and another tab, "Women in Sandals", "Women at the Beach", etc.

OK, well, you know. I know he is a man and I am in his room. It's not like he doesn't have a right and all that. But it just seems odd, out of all the months I've known him, I never had a hunch and in any case WHAT ABOUT MY FEET? Aren't they cute enough?? Why haven't I ever caught him giving an adoring glance, or get an offer of a foot massage after a long day (or at the start of a long night)??

My thoughts spin as I try to process this bit of bombshell....but then....my eyes go back to the unfinished canvas, the ***tered art supplies....the canvas....the full length image of the Goddess, wide eyes beckoning, bare feet planted firmly on the soil....wait a minute, bare feet....I look a little closer at the canvas and see the fresh streaks of white ***t, covering eraser marks over her toes....

I sit back and take a deep breath, smiling and blushing as he enters the room with our West Coast, Limited Edition, Seasonal, Ice Cold IPAs. As he passes me the frosty bottle and we cheers, I sit back and think contentedly to myself, Well, he isn't without his kinks...but feet...aren't one of them...