"If I'd known I would live so long, I would have taken better care of myself."Each of us, no matter what a sad act, has one complex, life-long relationship - with our body.
One of my favourite bits of Frankenstein - when the Creature informs Victor Frankenstein in the Caves of Ice that he plays the flute; "in which part of my body did this knowledge reside?" Perhaps musical talent is in the soul, but the genetic heritage you take from your makers is real enough.
One of my favourite Friend in Danger of Attack with Sharp Objects remarks came from HarvardBoy, a few years ago, when I was a porky porky lard ass. He wandered up to me one morning and said "you know people with big round bellies like yours are at a higher risk of heart disease."
When my face fell in horror, he attempted to mollify me by pointing out how much more rotund my belly was than any other part of my body, and that only someone who truly cared would say this.
Yes, he can still walk unaided, but it was a close-run thing.
The body that you're born with, versus the body that you make for yourself. And how you imagine that body to look is fascinating to me.
Nobody ever sees their back view. Sit in a busy station, and you can pick out one person in twenty who really really doesn't visualise their rear view when they dress in the morning.
Ack, that wasn't what I meant to blog about - I'm skinny as a rake, but I have what feels to me like podge in a layer across my belly. I know that exercise would tauten it. But I'm so skinny that it feels unfair. If I'm going to exercise, I at least want sexual reward.
Actually ... (brightens) ... the gym's good for voyeurs, innit?