My boyfriend's name is Sean. He's a fantastic artist. He even has an art degree. Naturally, being a girl, I was very excited by this. I daydreamed of being my lover's muse, lying nude with an apple in one hand as he mimicked each curve of my body with controlled brushstrokes, immortalizing my flesh in ink. Then, when he finished, he'd come over and scoop me up fireman style and take me to the bear rug in front of the fireplace and pin my arms to the floor and grab the apple with his teeth and then... damn yeah.
*blush* Um sorry. Anyway...
So I asked boyfriend to draw me. The request wasn't met with nearly the amount of enthusiasm I was seeking. I guess I didn't realize how daunting a task this actually was. I can't remember his exact words, but it basically translated into "not now." He responded this way to my subsequent requests. I gave up...
Recently, I decided to give it another try. This time, to my delight, boyfriend immediately stood up and grabbed a piece of paper. After a few minutes, he presented me with this:


Exhibit A

It's a chocolate chip cookie in leather boots...
He even put himself in the picture, smiling under my amazon cookie canopy. Okay okay - that's cute. But NOT what I asked for. I can't hang and worship a life-size backlit cherry hardwood framed portrait of THAT in my office and marvel at my man's artistic admiration of my flesh at leisure! This left me a little speechless, because it was so far away from anything I could have expected, that I couldn't bring myself to get mad about it. Seeing the traffic jam of words piling up behind my lips, he took another sheet of paper and drew this:


Exhibit B

That's Me, breaking the world record for "Farthest Jump by a Cupcake on Wheels."
Instant change of heart - I truly love this more than anything on God's earth. What a perfect embodiment of my essence!

According to boyfriend, these sketches are highly confidential documents proving my true identity as a little cute; Code Name "Precious Pretty". I like that. I can take five different buddy forms in my adventures of hiding, climbing things, and generally fuckin' around. Sometimes I wear a strawberry for a hat. More of these incriminating photos have since surfaced.
Here's surveillance of me purchasing a candy bag just last week:


Exhibit C

Note my sheer amazement when Candy Bag becomes self-aware! Don't be alarmed folks - we became fast friends.

I contributed to the investigation and sketched this:


Exhibit D

That's me on the right. Seanbaby is the man with pants for a head. I don't have an art degree.

In recent developments:


Exhibit E

What a poignant image of me as the Cupcake on Wheels. Notice my angled stance, which adds enigmatic shadows to my cup and a haunting stoicism to my wheels. My muffin top is slathered in pink frosting with periwinkle sprinkles wantonly strewn about in stark contrast. The cupcake - order in chaos. Note the duality of discipline as depicted in the geometry of my cup (explore the tension created when the creases don't quite connect at the bottom) and the primal, almost sensual freedom of my curvaceous puffed pastry overflowing the cup's restraints. How revelatory!

And the latest document on file:


Exhibit F

This one is my most complex buddy form. Conceptually, this is the most intimate, vulnerable depiction of me. Don't become tethered by the components; it's a monkey riding a bunny with a lollipop stuck to its paw - that's insane. Step back and allow the pieces to intertwine and flux. Open your mind, detect and receive the vibration it emits beyond the canvas. Now tell me - do you see my face? Don't panic, friend..Yield. Let the inquiries arise...every answer is Natalie. That white fluffy portion - is it my scut? Is it the cloud into which the rainbow terminates? The clenched fist in alignment with the open-palm monkey paw (note the upward pointing digits, opposable thumb stretched waywardly)...the deviant color sequence of the rainbow...the monkey's bow tie...ponder these things - not as pieces of me, but instead as atmospheric layers on the galactic space flight to Me. Then banish it all from your brain and luxuriate in the transcendent fallout.

It's been a pleasure to meet you.

Contact Pixel at pixel@pixelgamemusic.com

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