the gaze

i have a friend here who paints beautifully.  he is especially drawn to painting figures, so asked if he could paint me while pregnant. 

i have felt a sense of beloved grief during this pregnancy.  as my last pregnancy, i've been mourning the end of this special season.  at no time in my life will my children be as close to me - as intimate - as during pregnancy.  at the moment of their births, they begin their journey away from me and into their ownness - a breathtaking journey.  but for these nine months, i've reflected on and treasured this rich bond.  because of this, i clung to the idea of his painting somehow capturing this wonderful season and artistically immortalizing it. 

during our first sitting, he drew the rough sketches of the painting - void of color and streaked by the framework lines.  he invited me over to look, asking "is this you?"  i said, "yes, it is me.  but it's not me the way i wish i looked.  i wish my shoulders didn't slump like that.  i wish i had straighter posture.  i wish my hair weren't as stringy."  he said, "don't.  don't wish those things.  learn to love yourself, to forgive yourself deeply."

when someone looks at you intently, it forces you to look inward at yourself.  what does it look like to love yourself, while warmly embracing the things you wish you could change?