I Give Up

after 11 years,

and many of those years here with all of you.

i officially dumped my online dating profiles.

gone. done. not looking. forget it

just seemed like it was time.

many of you have heard me say this before.

there was never ever a time in my life when there was a line at the door.

if there ever was,

not sure what i’d do

maybe it’s me.

maybe it’s them.

not even worth speculating about it even.

for now

i give up.

just going to be

and be


gotta love how pixelated this picture is

maybe all the pixels will fly apart

and i’ll be




it was the other side of maniacal man

it was also march

and i feel march.

the shift of light

the tension of two seasons

the mood

or perhaps its not wanting to get out of bed

because of mood.


perhaps it’s barely remembering what it’s like to just stay in bed


with another.

as indulgent and as wonderful

as being in bed could possibly be.

nope not that.

i don’t even remember what cuddling is like.

Mostly Good

i want you to know that things are mostly good.

and what isn’t good.

is me.

the me part that is coming to the other side of trauma.

my own diagnosis of sorts.

or my own version of my not feeling quite myself in my own skin.

it’s like an emotional, anxious, nervous overwhelm thing.

but my not good…

has nothing to do with harassment, stupid landlords, an empty fridge or packing/moving.

the last THREE Feb/March’s I have been in the midst of a move of sorts.


that last photo is a reminder of the face hair experiment.

(excuse the severe edit of that.)

folks who know me don’t quite believe that I can sport

as much hair on my face as any man.

i shaved it last march

because when i needed help from the sheriff

i didn’t want any judgement.

it was bad enough that i had to call the sheriff in the first place.

i don’t have the gumption or personal strength to grow it out again.

but that’s OK.

plenty of other things to have gumption about. 



Self Love

this year is about taking care of self. were you aware of that?

the universe is shifting, we are all shifting something, the tension around that change hints of a resistance to letting go. i get that.

we all have something we can do better.

in doing better, we have to first do better for ourselves.

i use to say that as a single mom, i was a better mother when i took better care of myself first. because if one doesn’t …then the you part of you gets left in the dust.

been there.

in current times i don’t have a valentine.

not in my every day.

in my peripheral

there is the caring kindness of a few that i treasure.

but not a lot of that reached out to me – on the day. 


running an errand the day before valentines day

the store i was in had exploded into pink and red

heart shaped everything abounded

staff, extra staff and more staff bustled filling end caps and special tables for that grab and go “must express the love” consumer, that forced march that thing.

i can tell myself that i think the commercialism of it all is stupid

then my alone and ( stupid/hopeless ) romantic part of me wishes

that there was a delivery of flowers from some admirer

or a mushy card in the mail, which i actually don’t enjoy. the mushy part i mean

getting a card yes, i like that. something you know i’d really like.

if you get what i like that is.

well there was none of that.

no mail for several days actually.

i felt sorry for myself.

there was an 8 x 8 pan of brownies.

i don’t bake that often

which is probably a good thing.

and there was the donning of some red ruffled panties

to remind me, myself and me …of the self love i am supposed to have.

many have a deep affection for my behind, it’s round fullness, it’s ass-ness, that thing that men/women i guess love to look at …or imagine themselves near.

and,  when i photograph my ass – I see what you see. and I like that part of me too.

the buddha belly part of me…

well that’s what is so.

more of.

and not so much love for


note to self:  that threadbare nightie needs to go.

recently i asked someone to be my muse.

not sure he gets what i mean.

another someone said

i will be your friend

but nothing sexual. whats that about?






Snow Reflected Bright

this time a year ago to the day actually, winter. one ridiculous space heater, temps in the am when i awoke.

thank goodness i guess for menopause at night eh?

Ha! nothing like flashing my breasts to a grove of trees. at least they were pretty. the trees in the snow that is.

this light, snow reflected bright….is something else. 

Try And Cheer Me Up

last week a person was kind enough to write to me and try and cheer me up. we had a bit of a banter some time ago that fizzled for one reason or another.  have to say that his reaching out to me was rather sweet

it reminded me of the old days and the attention many of you, some rather personal attentions actually, use to shower me with. when one has an audience. one performs. well, not performs exactly. the attentions definitely fueled the creativity. it was nice to have someone watching.

in todays day i am not sure who is here. not in the same way. there are those who lurk. they know they are not welcome. they will lurk nonetheless, and then there are those who will still be here even though they have hurt my feelings, been unkind or expectant of me. i get all that. it’s just that the audience is now different. and i have been trying to express that i too am not the same. at least the same as when i started here in 2009.

i am getting to “the other side of” mode. a long long getting to the other side of – part of which is taking each day as it comes. some days good. some not so good. not my best self at the moment

with the shift into 2018. and the way i like to post things. the blog gets imagery from a year ago. flickr gets images from two years ago. that’s my system. i do it that way because i fear i will run out of nudes, so i post retro just to be sure i am ahead of the game and also because if i posted ever so randomly – the story would get all mixed up. this is after all a narrative of sorts.

for the sake of conversation – and my expressing the fact that i got to the other side of this …and to confuse you this post is breaking my own rule.

2 years ago ( this part really belongs on flickr) , i was DEEP into apt hunting mode, enjoying the pet therapy of a roommate’s cat, and enduring some pretty heady passive aggressive behavior from this roommate. i was a stranger in a strange land, and had secured some great creating opportunities, i was in the midst of a new project – even still – what i came here for was thwarted.

i found this first image and thought oh my gosh that person was such a piece of work, and then got sidetracked in finding more images of the same. oh yeah she was very very messy – i realize it’s totally caddy to nit pick about the trail someone left in her day to day, but i am going to anyway….because there is not much nudity to share from two january’s ago.

who else is going to listen to me.

every morning i’d wake up to this scenario. garbage was lined with a scented plastic bag ( have you ever smelled those? they are awful ) she took it out no matter how little was in it every morning. she left the empty can, swept the kitchen floor and left the crumb/dust/debris pile for me. this was her subtle hint to put a new bag in and pick up the pile?

There was no dustpan. no discussion. no request. perhaps one can do that to a spouse, or a boyfriend, but to someone you just met?

( correct me if i am wrong but that’s classic passive aggressive – right? ) I think some layer of passive aggressiveness is around us all the time, some folks just express it in a way that isn’t healthy.

and then there was the trail.

the sortof personal gross trail that is rather inexplainable.

hair on the side of the shower – every single day, soggy wet, not wrung out wash cloths. her towels smelled. mold musty. even when washed or clean they smelled ( she realized when i was living there that she had been putting her laundry soap in the wrong compartment of the machine – or improperly washing her laundry for months) that was her side of the kitchen sink stacked high and more musty towels. she trimmed her hair and left the kleenex with hair on it on the bathroom counter, coffee stains every s-i-n-g-l-e day, this picture was a coffee “spill”, she never cleaned that up, it was there when i left. she would put “her” toilet paper on the holder. and remove mine. if i put mine back on ( we used different types of TP ) she would remove mine and put hers on instead. if i used her toilet paper she would leave me a note with smiley faces. endless smiley faces. telling me to use my own TP. Now perhaps she thought I left a trail, or a mess or hated the smell of my cooking, or or or but I tell you my commitment to not creating anything that she could ever complain about was huge. i was not inconsiderate.

the fake cat was mine. her cat, a love of a cat, and i became super great friends, she had fleas ( of course her cat had fleas) and she got mad that her cat liked me. i got bit. she denied that her cat had an issue.

the last image is rather abstract but its from that time frame again hard to find nudes from that month

where as, a YEAR ago, i was living in the country studio, growing a beard and mustache, catching mice and just getting to the other side of 6 weeks without a car. setting myself up to be extra vulnerable and hermit like.





















It’s When You Stop Looking

emotional spiral happening here.

new year

new digs


i believe myself to be on the other side


too much fight or flight.



it’s something i have to name

but have little experience with

it’s more disorienting than i am use to.




the new space has the most light i’ve had since arriving here.

city studio i am calling it.

and, mirror placement is available.


i might actually consider looking at myself again.

it’s when you stop looking that you stop seeing.

when a compassionate and encouraging audience stops looking

then the reason for posting fades.

i stopped looking when my journey here was so thwarted.

there is no way i could have predicted the challenges.

it got complicated.

while i am here,

let me remind all of you something

i am not the person you think i am.

i am not the person that first began

blogging here.

and you can’t possible know me from what i write and share here

i am way too much much more.


and adding emphatically

i will never do video.


requesting video from me

is THE most unacceptable disrespectful request.


whatever had any of you think otherwise?

hugely mistaken.

the way to have me

in your inner circle

is to not be a shit about it.

patient, loyal, and not fleeting works

this is about a person.

not the nudity

or expectations you seem to feel you are entitled to

there i said it.