From Frustration to Relaxation

Frustration Station 1, 2, 3. Fio can't get through the computer rigamarole to review the new book a friend of hers has put up on Amazon. Also, after several hours of searching, she found a 2016 format for the information she usually sends off to her CPA, but she's going to have to go through another corridor of hell to get 2018 information on Husband's investments and retirement income. To top it off, that investment set-up that called Fio last week has mailed her a letter asking her to fill out new forms, but didn't include them in the envelope.
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Let's relax and talk about art nudes, the ones that Fiorella, primarily a portrait artist, used to sketch in that city-sponsored class she dropped in on regularly for about a year. What, you say--NAKED PEOPLE? But, strangely enough, artists don't look at boobs and bottoms, but lines and curves, balance and grace. In class, we usually smudged over the nipples and crotches, but went to town on the shoulders, elbows, hands, thighs, knees, bend of the body, and, most important, the angle--which is why it was important to get a good seat up front.  
       To make things more interesting, our models came in all shapes, sexes, and sizes. One of Fio's favorite drawings was of an obese woman lolling in a wicker arm chair: