One of my current favorite artists of the larger form, Juan Alcantara. It's seldom, when looking at an artist's portfolio, that you have that sense that somebody's been peeking in your window. His drawings and paintings do that for me, and not in a bad way. He's playfully observant, not completely photorealistic but understanding of the dynamics of avoirdupois. Breasts sag. There are rolls. Straps and fabric wrinkle and tug. I like that. Nothing defies gravity, but it's not insulting in any way.
And then there's this one in particular, which pops me in the face with the feels, and I've had plenty of those. This was an artist I'd shared with Adam, and he'd pointed to a couple of the drawings (the one below in particular) as looking like me. The days (and months) roll onward. I'm still grabbing at feathers as they blow by. I'm beginning to think you don't really ever know who you are, because you are changing as constantly as the world around you. Only love remains, and hope for more love.