Ophidia, the medusa, tried desperately to sketch a self-portrait. Later she would add color. Her problem was every time she looked into the lake at her reflection, the snakes of her hair were in a very different place. She could not use a mirror or else she might turn herself to stone. She did feel bad for all the fish in the lake she petrified.
    
She cried out in frustration for the third time that hour. Suddenly she came up with an idea. She had heard about the human concept of a ponytail, so she thought she could try something called snakytail. She made herself a grass rope and tied all her hair-snakes together with her grass rope.
    
There, she thought, and sighed happily.

She started to try to sketch herself again. Sometimes the snakes still got in the way, or they tried to bite her, which hurt a lot. This failing, she tried to braid her hair. After several minutes and many bites, she finally braided and secured her hair. It still lashed around a little, but not enough to matter. Now she thought she could draw herself.

“Ugh!” she exclaimed, looking down into the water. Now that the snakes were not in her face, she could see her reflection, but it was still quite vague and ripply.

Ophidia glanced at her sketchbook. The picture she was drawing of herself was very weird looking. She started to brainstorm ideas that she could use to see herself without paralyzing herself. She had already thought of using a fogged mirror or seeing her reflection cross-eyed. She was running out of ideas.

She sat by the lake for a while, thinking. Then she realized that it didn’t have to be a perfect reflection. She could draw herself any way she liked.

She went back home, combed out her hair, and sat down at her table. She didn’t erase her old picture, since she saw the beauty of that one, too. She started to draw herself in her own way.

An hour later, she smiled. Her work was complete.