Trusting Art

He and she had been so busy that they sometimes struggled to find time to spend together. On the weekends, they would hang out in his studio. He worked on his art projects, while she sat at a desk in the cramped space working on her research. This particular Saturday was a bit different. While they were in the computer lab printing things for their projects, a girl was lying naked in his studio.

“She’s doing a body cast.” He explained. The thought of this instantly made her sick to her stomach. Once they finished in the computer lab, they headed to his studio. The pit in her stomach grew as they closed in. He rammed a balled fist against the door calling over to the older woman who was placing white wet strips on the girls naked body.

“We are almost done sweetie, but she’s all covered up. You can come in.” She let him take the lead, more than likely to see if he tried to peek, but he didn’t.

“You can look, it’s just like body armor.” The girl called out to him. This ignited a fire inside of her. This naked girl essentially just asked him to look at her naked. She was able to catch a glance while he left to grab supplies elsewhere. The girl’s nipples were visible along with a mound where her lady parts were.

He was fine about the occurrence. Not looking and covering his face anytime he needed to walk past. She was happy that he was being so respectful, but it still sent her uncomfortability level through the roof. He and she left for an hour or so to get some lunch, hoping that when they returned, the girl would be clothed and/or gone.

He thought that she was overreacting. “I won’t understand where you are coming from. She is doing art and that is it. It’s not that big of a deal.” He had expressed to her while they ate lunch, away from the mess lying in his studio. She tried to use reversal on him, though he denied that in swapped positions he would care. “What breaks my heart, is that you think I care about that girl. I love you and it’s like you don’t believe me.” 

It took an entire extra hour for the girl to get done after they returned. He and she paid no mind and worked on his project. He had instructed her to pack clay around his face, so that when she poured alginate (which is a powder form of seaweed that, when mixed with water, quickly molds over anything its set on and captures tiny details down to veins that pop out and tiny hairs) into the box where his face lie, so it wouldn’t seep out all over the desk he was currently sprawled out on. He insisted that he wear a garbage bag as a shirt, which revealed his muscles. She wasn’t too happy that there was a naked girl and her half naked boyfriend all in the same room, at the same time.

When the girl was done, his face was covered by a box. “I’m getting dressed behind you. Just thought I’d warn you so you didn’t freak out if you turned around and saw me naked.” The girl stated. She felt there was nothing else the girl could say that would make her anymore irritated than she was at the current moment. It was like the girl was trying to get a rise out of him, as though the girl intentionally set this up to see if he was interested in viewing her goods. Then again, she tried hard to quiet her inner-monologue, since he was her man and no one else’s.

Finally, she had finished boxing in his face, beginning to quickly pour water into the alginate, stirring furiously. The girl came over to his side to first look at his face and then help her by holding the bucket in place as she continued to mix. She poured the alginate over his face as he began breathing though a straw. The only worry she had at that point was whether or not he could breathe. He had to trust her a great deal to let her pour something over his face like that.

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The older woman assisted her in spreading the goo over his nose until a few minutes later when it set. It was a lavender color and felt moist to the touch. He leaned up, holding the box on his face, attempting to detach it from his skin. He wasn’t able to set up plaster to hold the mold in place, so it ended up morphing and looking nothing like him. He enjoyed this aspect though, claiming it was artistic, expressing that people have a morphed view of themselves.

When he attempted to sturdy the mold, he came back with hot melted wax to take a wax mold from the alginate. He had forgotten to close the hole where the straw had been, while the wax poured out the sides of the box on to the table and then the floor quicker than they could catch. Later, he and she had to spend an extra 40 minutes doing clean-up by scraping the dried wax from where it had landed.

The girl had stayed in the studio the rest of the day, talking non-stop about her naked body cast that sat awkwardly in the room with them. She really had to keep calm, as the girl constantly crossed boundaries that made her want to scream. He breezed through the rest of the day, working hard on several projects at once, displeased with how she had been behaving all day. He couldn’t understand the insecurity, since he felt he expressed how much he loved and wanted her and only her.

The real theme that spun its web throughout the day was trust. Trust in love, trust in art, and also trust that something is solely being done for art and no ulterior motives.  She needed to trust the nature of their relationship, its strength and that it grows stronger each day due to resilience in times that push their boundaries.

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