As the hue of the dawn touches the azure sky, an air of mixed emotions engulfs me. I glance at my reflection in a cracked antique mirror - a nude, non-binary model. Forty-one years of life painted onto a body that breaks norms for breakfast. The anticipation builds up within me, a rhythmic melody echoing in my veins, a tempo that quickens each time I prepare to step into the glaring lights.
Folding myself into an art universe, I shrug off my robe and surrender myself to the scrutinizing gazes of the observers. The allure of the artist's undiluted attention has always been one of my ALL-TIME FAVORITES. I can feel their curious eyes dancing across my lines and curves, each glance feeling like a brushstroke, weaving an exquisite story of vulnerability and strength. I revel in this submission, the surrender liberating me from the societal chains that often overburden my existence.
My heart beats in sync with the fluttering canvas sheets as I strike a pose, vulnerable yet unyielding. Capturing a moment in my unique journey of exploring gender fluidity, the pose is not only a statement but a testament. A testament to the individual who found solace in the amalgamation of identities, refusing to be confined by a binary society that often fails to recognize the beauty of diversity.
With every passing minute beneath the soft yellow light, seeds of curiousity take root within me. Curiousity about how these artists perceive me, about the narratives they inscribe onto their canvases. Do they see the same story I live every day? Or do they paint different versions of me, each canvas holding a unique reflection of their understanding of my identity?
My mind walters back to the cracked mirror, dissecting the dichotomy of my experience. To some, it might seem paradoxical, a ceaseless dance between submission and curiosity. But to me, it's emancipation - unveiling the spectrum of human experience, fueling my spirit, and challenging the norms one brushstroke at a time.
As the last artist packs up their gear, I stretch out, peeling off my pose and wrapping myself in my robe. Reclaimed by the quiet shadows, I look forward to the day when my gender-queer body becomes a natural, familiar subject for art. Until then, the dance between my curiousity and the canvas continues, choreographed by an invisible artist of time and experience.  |