Quite a few things come naturally for her.  In fact, at an early age, she realized the power she had over men, simply by just being herself — for example, walking down the sidewalk downtown, or shopping for groceries.  She owns a classic runway walk that displays a rhythmic motion of her merciless hips (1,2), while her wavy blonde hair bounces with confident freedom.  If her walk could be placed to music, it would be a divine symphony of feminine perfection (1,2), but if a man dared to turn around and see her, she would invariably hear a crash and a scream of pain, as his head hits a lamp post or door frame because he became too helpless to look where he was going, hypnotized by the vision she presented so naturally.  She quickly became aware that she could cause car accidents from men staring at her while driving.  However, she is herself and herself only, and none of this is her fault at all.  You see, she feels the music within herself, naturally, and the music her rhythmic hips create makes her want to dance a dance that few people can dance to, and she only dances with who she chooses — the best.

Oh, but if she smiles at a man, it will frequently freeze him helplessly in his tracks, paralyzing his lips so it would be impossible for him to utter a word, even in the rare chance that he could open his mouth to form his own smile. Rarely, a man may be able to overcome this paralysis briefly and form a few words which are usually something like “Hey babe, looking good.”   Or. “Damn girl, you’re hot.”  However, she just keeps walking, accomplishing her tasks, no response needed.

When she isn’t working, she paints on a canvas, either oils or watercolors, although watercolors are her favorite. Sadly, he died too young, and she misses him, but her father saw within her a talent for art at a young age, and allowed her to go to art school, where she learned her craft, and when she paints, she feels his guidance on her brush. When she sees a blank canvas, she never knows what she is going to paint, or draw, until her first brush stroke touches the canvas. In fact, if you ask her to paint on demand, she can’t do it.  It doesn’t matter whether she is happy or somewhat melancholy, she simply paints when she feels that she wants to. After the first brief swoosh of the brush, there’s another swoosh, and suddenly, she is flying at the speed of light to another universe, oblivious to the mundane earth she is standing on, and she feels she is truly in a dream within a dream, unable to return until she is finished.

If she is alone in the house when painting or drawing, she wears a body apron, down to her knees, completely naked underneath, which gives her a certain freedom.  If she’s not alone, she will wear shorts or a t-shirt, and sometimes pajamas, depending on her mood at the time, for example — before entering her lucky bed.

It’s her gentle, but agile mind though, that feels things that others ignore, or perhaps can’t feel, and those feelings jump from her brush to the canvas like a moth to the bright light, but also her soul seems to understand that although she is blessed, others are not so blessed, so she gives of herself to others in need, when she can.  She could probably accomplish anything she wanted in life, whether in the arts, or sciences, but her soul had guided her to making the world more beautiful, not just with her paintings, but just by being herself.

The portions in italics were taken from previous copyrighted publications by S.R. Carson:

1.  To Love with Hate
2. Inspired in the Bedroom:  Nightly Reads from S.R. Carson:  Before, During and After Romance

© 2022 S.R. Carson Publications