Peter Paul Rubens, please paint me!

So.

New year. New resolutions.

My first is that Peter Paul Rubens, somehow, should paint me, in my Rubenesque incarnation as a 5 foot, 6 inch woman who weighs, today, either 139 pounds or 142 pounds, depending on whether I weigh myself at the gym downstairs in the locker room (139) or upstairs in front of all the huffers and puffers and stretchers and benders (142) two minutes later.

Well. From now on, I weigh myself from upstairs to down.

Anyway, as someone who weighed 125 pounds two years ago, I'm thinking now is my only chance to be a carnal beauty like Leda here (leaving out, of course, all that ancient drama). Cause that extra lardage is a' comin' off. My personal trainer will take care of it. ;)

Really.

I signed up for a year's worth of sessions to amp up my desultory treadmill and rowing machine sessions. It'll cost me, but the first workout was worth it. My heart rate is still up eight hours later; I'll be sleeping shortly, but that muscle will still be working hard.

(Wonder if I'll get better dreams out of this?)

Anyway, Mr. Rubens, if you and your art pals in the great beyond are by some odd quirk of the cosmos paying attention, paint me, dude.

This is your only chance.

Only no swans.

Read more about Peter Paul Rubens at artsy.net