When There Are Two Of You

while an alter ego isn’t a multiple personality

there are two ways that i portray myself

i notice this duality mostly with men.

lets start with dating. from a decade ago

my duality was expressed most then

lets say its me. me/me. not nude me

just regular me.

i met guys through online dating

if something clicked via email.

i took it to phone.

my dating profile might share that i am a creative, that i am complicated/quirky, that i have an empty nest, that i love to cook and take road trips. most men tell me that they love my phone voice. i would share my distaste for smokers. or other deal breakers. I would ask a ton of questions. the first call is a test/ a screening of sorts. can they keep a conversation going, are they inquisitive, do we have anything in common. It’s at this time that i wonder should i tell them that i am nude online?? Or do I wait. Because more often than not – men who are curious about me and find out that i am nude on line are horrified.

some comments include: you mean i’d have to share you? what are you some sortof slut? why would you do that? and then i’d have to explain. ( well i am a creative and it’s an art form. a bit like performance art with out the performing and and and ) Those men I never meet.

the reason i’ve wanted to be upfront about my nudity is at some layer whoever my next lover is  i have long hoped that person would be my muse. that if we coupled and it stuck, that i could photograph it.

otherwise. what’s the point.

there are then men who read my blog. they want to meet me. they decide that I am interesting or fascinating or brave. or they want to befriend me, while they have seen me very nude, and masturbating. the framing for a meet is different.  it’s going to be a tryst.  it’s going to be sexual, it’s something we don’t tell anyone about or photograph, and its not necessarily a circumstance where someone is going to know or get or inquire about the real me.or for that matter…have time for me. i am entertainment. peripheral.

this is simply my experience,

i am not complaining. i am speculating.

the tryst. while rather exciting in it’s moment

tends to then fall flat.

it has no room to blossom or become

i want to see you are empty statements

placating

and untrue.

well, perhaps the desire is there. the reality has no truth.

don’t say what you don’t mean.

or can’t bring to fruition i say.

the meet is taking. self serve.

perhaps that’s what trysts are.

i ache always for more.

perhaps that’s an issue.

it’s been forever now that i’ve dealt with either circumstance

may be forever that I ever will.

which way would it be best for you to know me?

i love this very moody self portrait taken in the home i lost. 

 

 

 

Leaning Tower Of Couch

how are you doing during this time of coronavirus?

i mean it. are you ok. are those you care about ok? what part of the world are you in and what are you observing ?

in the states its predicted that this week the virus will express itself and multiply

where i live. as of today it’s officially 2 weeks of lock down.

my chair is broken.

happened a few days ago

it’s a rocking recliner.

i got it for free.

if i am not sitting in it. it rocks

but while i am in it or leaning forward it just goes flat.

what is that mechanism….a spring gone bad??

is it fixable?

it now has sortof a permanent forward lean. UGH

i can use the ottoman to leverage it back but i don’t always sit that way

the leaning forward reminds me of this insane story, that i thought would amuse you.

i use to own a three flat. the basement had a one bedroom apartment.

the basement also had a storage and laundry room

the door to get into the basement apartment was on the way to the laundry room.

i rented to a young couple once. they both were employed as security guards/ they had longevity in their jobs. references were all positive. both were short/ heavy set folks

they move in.

once settled – outside their apartment door, stacked ever so neatly were cases of jumbo size canned ravioli. chef boyardee. yup, the good stuff

just inside the door was their couch. it’s two front legs were missing

leaning tower of couch

to prop said couch they used

you guessed it

jumbo cans of chef boyardee ravioli.

said couple use to leave their door open.

They would sit on propped couch. NAKED while watching TV

and eating…. wait for it,

chef boyardee ravioli out of the jumbo can. OUT OF THE CAN

I’d go downstairs to put a load of laundry into the dryer

and there they were.

Naked.

as time progressed. ravioli eating naked tenants on leaning tower of couch were home all the time.

i would hear this pop song. it would play over and over and over

something about making babies or all i want to do is be your baby or some bubble gum obnoxious lyric

from the sounds that were coming from said basement.

i’d say they were making a baby. or two or three or whatever.

i had a one year old.

the whole scenario was two much.

eventually these folks stopped paying rent,

of course they HAD to go.

once gone. they left leaning tower of couch.

no jumbo cans of ravioli

and they left of all way bizarre things

a HUGE box of animal porn magazines!!!

oh my gosh.

certainly not something one sees every day

TRUE story.

later i wondered, perhaps this was their pattern.

apartment to apartment.

the things folks get away with.

or how odd people are

at a glance if you met this young couple you’d never know.

i cant recall if i’ve written this story before or not.

in my mind there was a set of images taken with my now broken chair.

but for the life of me…

i can’t find them.

this one will have to do

 

 

 

Do I Ever Wonder?

do you ever wonder how many cocks have been smacked around to your blog photos?”

hmmmmmmm what a question.

am I here on purpose to provide visuals for men to masturbate to?

I AM NOT

What started one way naively became something else.

Happy accident I guess.

if you are a cock smacker when here, then lucky you.

I get that there is over a decade of anonymously nude images that perhaps imply something of a sexual nature.

i am not by any means a heavily trafficked feed at Flickr. I do find some of my stats interesting though

my feed has had 18 MILLLION views

my most popular post has had

71, 549 views

238 likes

and 104 comments.

is that good?

does that  mean there is lots of cock smacking on flickr??

i have a 52 page word document of praise 52 pages!!! and some of that praise includes declarations of cock smacking.

perhaps all of that is flattering somehow.

i ask this…

what do i do with that all that oooh baby sex talk, the often vulgar adoration, those super gross tributes and dick pictures?

because none of that does a thing for me. sexually anyway.

what do other almost 60 year old women that you know do?

I am not complaining

i am not explaining

i guess i am simply commenting on the question asked

( taken in 2010 i believe – they are a tad dark. pre-lightroom. couch surfing dream couch, so folks said. i have been thinking about and missing a couch. ) 

 

 

Friday Night

Today is really no different than any other Friday. There is no hum here, no date, no friends, no plans, no event to attend.  This is mostly normal for me. The internet and it’s hum is usually less on a Friday. I feel that lessoning. I feel like perhaps folks just don’t have time for me. It’s a self made feeling/decision/conversation in my head,  yet the reality of it is real. On monday the internet vibe is back.

isolating isn’t new to me. social distancing they say.

i do this.

I have posts to write, music i am enjoying, a full fridge for now and leftovers. my cat is in a mood, so there is that, and i didn’t make my bed. I might not make it. whatever – right?

this is a different friday night

The pandemic around us. what a blaring spiral of frightening worldly news,  currently leaves my silver threaded head spinning. It is unnerving. it’s disruptive, it’s alarming. and…it’s real.

around me. the month of march is cancelled. literally. as is most of april. shut it all down. wash your hands, don’t touch your face. where can I find some TP. Better yet, how long does a roll of TP last me, personally? Send me TP.

many strive on. thats what we do. outside of being sick with the coronavirus, you have to hunker down and not spread the germ. be respectful neighbors at the moment

we all have to make our way,

work. some still have to work

or own a business

or are teachers in schools that

can’t send kids that they also feed home

or or or. the scenario’s are endless.

so lets rethink

or create new ways to be out there.

I admire that for some – this is already in place.

As I observe, I am feeling grateful.

we at least have the internet.

if it wasn’t for the interweb – i’d not be famously anonymously nude

i’d not have met most of you

i’d not have a decade of portfolio

i’d not have these blank spaces to brain dump on.

The show that I am part of in Chicago

exhibits virtually.

Each opening is represented with it’s own gallery

forever.

This practice of virtual representation is so important.

not all galleries do this.

some don’t take the time.

some want to remain aloof

yet think about it. times like these

you can still be part of something.

Don’t live in Chicago?

Can’t attend the opening?

Interested in art?

in buying art?

Check out this show.

or other fine galleries online.

and thank you Jackson Junge Gallery.

view the group show or inquire about purchasing here

The Woman With Hair

scored a small stack of used SUN magazines at the library yesterday. i love that magazine, i tear it apart for collage, and enjoy the writing. I’ve submitted my own writing a few times, and a few times a year i submit black and white images, no luck so far. at least i try.

while pulling the magazines apart last night i was drawn to it’s nude scape, with it was the title. “the woman with hair” 

One particular line made me smile. 

“Her hair was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It straddled time zones; it lived and breathed, making deep exhalations down to her toes.”

I have to marvel that issues dated back to 2005 or further are now all available online.

a discussion had at the same library talked about the days before we had the web.

to think that there are generations now of folks who don’t know before.

This  last week I heard from fans that had intrigue with my opening in Chicago this evening. ( thank you ) and NO I will not be at the opening.

they start by saying,” I’ve followed your work for a long time” 

I feel two things when I read this.

I never knew.

and,

thank you.

I guess I get the silent fandom thing

i admire and am a fan of many a person.

it’s just in the realm of lonely.

it’s nice to actually know you are here.

speaking of scapes.

i really don’t have that many in my portfolio.

i am partial to the over exposed one. mod and lunar somehow

 

 

Opening

The opening is THIS FRIDAY

If you live in Chicago you should attend!

it’s a group show.

theme: steam punk

my work is the only photograph.

16×20

Framed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

plus

they used my photo for the publicity postcard!

will I be there in person?

No.

I am working on my next submission idea – the theme is scapes. right now landscapes that are a BLUR are what my gut tells me to consider.  I’ve pulled all blur work from 2019. I think I need to look back another year. i thought nudes, but my nude scapes are not strong/vibrant enough.

I’ve created a separate website for my alter ego to have a portfolio place.

Perhaps I will find ways to enter into more nude photography shows

 

 

 

It’s Not Like It Use To Be

took a nap yesterday. very occasionally i simply need to do that. when I do, i usually sleep but good. like out cold. yesterday, the cat was pacing herself around me, trying to get me out of bed i guess. I knew her presence somehow. it was like napping with one eye open – I thought at some level she doesn’t know what is going on, but sleeping was way more valuable to me then her. she did settle in at some point. purring at the nook of my legs behind my knee.

i dreamt about a swimming pool full of cats, they were floating on their backs. sunning themselves. all of them had massive human hard ons. the dream shifted from the bright sun, brilliant blue of the pool and wet cat fur….to one of cartoon renderings. Thats when the male anatomy showed up. exaggerated and absolutely ridiculous.  and of course, rather inviting. i am sure one can analyze the heck out of the subconscious reveal of that one.

I stumbled upon this retro hairy capture.  back in the day when i let the hair on my legs and my armpits grow out. there was a lot of hair. it was dark, long and there was plenty of it. sharing that growth with all of you got me a great amount of attention. NOW though – it’s just not like it use to be.  the hair that use to be between my breasts is completely gone, the armpit and leg hair has thinned out, gotten white, there is a lot less of all of it. my pussy hair is almost all white. more course, and less dense. I then have this ridiculous volume of hair on my face. which most men/women admire for my courage of sporting it. but are not particularly attracted to. that disdain happen when i had hairy legs and armpits — unless one had a fetish for it.  I suppose my current hairy presentation would be like a bald man with a hairy chest or something.  The hair on my head is the longest it’s every been. About a foot now past shoulder length.

a lot of my fans think of me back in the day.