That’s usually my take on it too. But perhaps they don’t work directly together??
We have cause to interact fairly often, but our jobs are not dependant on each other. We need to interact for maybe 2 minutes every couple of months. Physically, we could hardly be closer. She’s right across the hall, and I need to go into her office all the time. I’m in there several times per day, but often because I want to be there. She’s there, after all.
I suspect that if things start going somewhere, she’ll bring up that it’s inappropriate. If she’s OK with that, then great. If not, then at least I can say I tried.
Excellent point.
I could always start by painting a mural of her nude body on her nude body. It would be easy to stay within the lines.
Mmmmm, lines…
She said YES!!! Woo hoo!
to lunch
But if you liked my paintings, here are some more, lesser paintings:
The Captain, shown at an art show. Not well loved, but it’s hanging on my wall.
Rachael, a portrait of my niece. Unframed and and probably sitting in a dusty pile of Justin Timberlake posters. Teen models have no heart.
The Gardener, a study in animals of the young human and feathered types. Certain evidence that I should stick to life drawings of the very still and : chlorophylled type. But it caused a stir of “I want that!” and “I’ll pay anything!” Given away as a secret Santa gift, to a woman that admires everything I’ve ever done. Short, fat, old, married, and wears enough perfume to choke a doberman.
The Gardener
Close enough copy of the above to give, specially made for a beautiful and sexy coworker for Christmas. No expectations. Even if we did start a special relationship, I’m not into dating a married woman with four kids. But we did a funny e-mail flirt today. She thinks I’m steely hawt. I’m fat and bald. But 4 weeks of work was worth the hug.
Schooner. Not the final version, which is under glass. Some coworkers (including my loverly intended, who has agreed to have lunch with me-- did I mention that?) have not only stated but insisted that my asshole boss’s boss, who loves boat paintings, pay me $5000 for it. He hasn’t yet. He merely expressed interest in his miserly way.
I’d easily give up any of these to be with Her. They’re just expensive paper. She’s flesh.
But as a non-artist, I invite your compliments an criticisms,
Yep. I decided to go with balls and not art.
We got lunch!
It’s small, but it’s huge.
The balls or the lunch?
Congrats on the yes! Getting past that first step is always the hardest part, and I applaud your gumption in taking it…
Also, your paintings are fantastic. Despite your comment, I think I like the Captain the best; the Schooner is quite nice as well.
You should totally paint her into the picture with bigger boobs if you start dating, and give it to her, with a copy of this thread. If she doesn’t have a sense of humour, no point going any further. 
(Congrats on the lunch! Now, ask her for a date before you fall into the hell that is the Friend Zone.)
If you gave her the painting and then were rejected by her some way, would you be okay with her having it? I think you should just ask her out, if it goes well you can then present her with the painting (which is beautiful by the way, I love the colours of the reflection) and who knows what she might present you with in return… 
Sorry, missed the last few posts, good luck!
Thank on both counts. But actually, the hardest part is this:
FUCK!
Ouch, sorry to hear that. But I think we might need to recalibrate your flirt detector, dude. A successful mission begins with a solid target.
Well, that was like ripping off a bandaid. She helped you out by being quick and easy. I mean really - at least she was honest.
See, aren’t you glad you didn’t give her your awesome painting? 
Now, please don’t turn into another DoperGuy who becomes obsessed with a woman who’s out of reach.
(but if you do please post it - I love meltdowns!)
Sorry, tdn. I’m sure that stings a bit.
I don’t think it’s that out of whack. Clearly she knew that it was not just a lunch date but a lunch date. No question that she wasn’t thinking Friend Zone. A charitible reading would be that we’re simply star-crossed, ill-timed lovers. A less charitible one is that she’s just letting me down easy. Which is very nice of her to do so in such a way. That’s the way she is. She’s perfect.
Fuck!
Oh, and featherlou, don’t even joke about giving her bigger boobs. She’s flat as an ironing board and absolutely, beautifully, divinely perfect.
Fuck!
Bummer. But nice of her to deal with it so quickly and directly.
Now – back to your personal ad …
She’s been out of reach for four and a half years, which is exactly how long I’ve been obsessed with her. Why should I stop now?
At least I gave it a shot. Asking her out was perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever done. At least it felt that way.
Yes. Now go, ask, enjoy.
Wow. She handled that well. Oh well…back to the pond, as they say.
Read the whole thread, dude. I manned up. I asked. She said yes. Then she said no. The burnt, blackened remains of my heart are all over the floor.
I just passed her in the hall. We gave each other the customary friendly smile. No words.
Fuck.
This calls for paint therapy.