She asks to paint my portrait and I know I will be nude. I will be nude because my body bothers me. It shouldn't but it does. It moves and feels and plays the way I want it to. I love the way it services me. My wonderful skin. But to the naked eye it is a jarring thing, this vessel I am poured into. I will unveil myself as I never unveil myself. The hand full of people who have seen my slowly sagging skin in the last twenty years are special for my trust in them. I will stand unclothed now for her to translate. I will be nude. You will look at me without judgment.