The only thing swollen now is my ego. The mere thought of a beautiful women supplying me with pictures of their legs that would make every man in world blush, makes it hard to tell if it is because I am such a great artist or if It is because I have a way with words.
Either way I won’t be able to walk straight for a week.
I had promised to do this project for a while now and kept putting it off due to lack of proper, prompting, motivation.
In 1965 a beautiful woman was born, who would later find out after numerous children, a wonderful marriage, that she had the ability to capture the attention of a man twenty-three years her junior.
At times I wonder if I can do anything at all to maintain and levitate the ego of such a woman who by modern standards, “has it all.” In truth, what more could I do for such a woman?
She has done more for me in the brief time I’ve known her. Out of all those who have had the choice to interact with my galleries, she has endeared herself to my collection of work.
I’ve always been “fixed,” that way you know?
I am not the most attractive man, so I seek to make up for this by developing attractive art and it does a man’s heart good to know my work’s are something she is willing to share with her loved ones, or friends. Because of this I try not to be overly crude in my presentations.
I have run off a few supporters that way, in the name of freedom of expression, I expressed too much and showed my youth.
Despite all of that immaturity, she laughs with me in ways that makes me both love and disdain the distance that is between us.
Her support has swollen my appetite for the defense of art, the internet, and the communicative ability we have achieved in our “global,” community. When she was growing up and those older than her, never perceived a time in which, in less than the time it takes to devise a thought, messages could be passed, money transferred, books written and published, or the consistent prodding’s of a young admirer, insisting to keep her spirits lifted in the most trying periods of her life, could be seen on her phone, desktop, television; and all of it for no real purpose besides swelling her ego.
Never in wildest of dreams would she have thought someone could or would want to take the time to immortalize her in the history of contemporary art.
Ink the lines that make up the very smile with has affected my waking moments in the most delightful of ways and I am willing to say it, all in the name of swelling the ego.
Now, I the Dream Weaver, must share this disclaimer before I continue.
There are those who would challenge my claim to nurturing a swelled ego. They would suggest this behavior to be base and no different than a pig courting a pig. https://www.deviantart.com/adventvoice/journal/Mystery-of-the-Woman-753983115
I despise such thoughts, always have and always will. There are those that would teach of a mythical honor in humility and constant debasement of one’s gifts. “To each their own,” I say.
When I see a beautiful woman, I will say it; and I plan to capture all the worlds beauty with my pen.
Until the canvas swells to swollen.