Dreams Of A Man

i can’t tell you the last time i thought about a man.

that thing that happens when our mind plays with the potential.

something sparks it. a visual, a story heard, or even a memory

and then instant replay happens.

or fill in the blanks

or we make it up as we go

once sparked, you sometimes feel a little mischievous

as you embellish, you then play, and you get all sexy inside your mind about it.

haven’t thought like that in a long long while.

once upon a time a man said – you are so beautiful. he said, if only you could see how beautiful you are, the way i see you.  i never thought i was very beautiful, ever – well that’s not exactly so, but my personal sense of my beauty was pretty jilted. i told this man he was full of shit. that he was just a perverted old man.

but it struck me – what if he’s right, what does he see that I don’t, what if i am beautiful?

and so, i began to look.

partly to see what he might be seeing

and later because I liked what I saw too.

i never imagined at the beginning of this blog

that men would dive in with me

i never knew that i could have an impact on a stranger.

not in a way that would compel  some of them to want to meet me, or to send gifts, or to help me pay an art fee, or contribute to the repair of my car. which by the by to those of you who did those things. thank you. thank you very much

the fleeting nature of these strangers I guess is inevitable.

i don’t like it. but – mens interests are not vested in me and my day to day, they just want someone to fill in the blanks.

when my HS sweetheart joined the marines – we were engaged, we were young, but we were really good together. my father had emotionally abandoned me the year prior. he went on to leave my mother and treated me during this time like a sex object – he was expressing his own mid-life crisis but the things he did crossed boundaries. they were not appropriate. my father had a lot of issues that surfaced when my guy and I started dating. so much drama in my home life. i never would have gotten through any of it had it not been for him. my sweetheart neglected to consult me about his joining the service. here he was making the biggest decision of his life and he forgot to ask me what I thought. i was going to be his wife. I was so hurt, but not by his decision. I was hurt because he didn’t value you me as part of the couple I believed us to be. He just told me – this is the way it’s going to be. While he was away, I tried to fill in the empty places. i loved kissing feeling like a man wanted more of me. I liked the power that gave me – even if the moment a kiss became more, I became nothing in the equation. The more I kissed, the more they took and the more I tried to fill what was missing inside. I love sex, I love it now — I adored it then. In my time that made me a slut. for liking it that is. Oddly, and now that i think on it — the being a slut really depended on a certain social hierarchy. popular girls could have all the sex they wanted – they were cool for being sexual. men always told me I was very passionate. i guess the popular girls just went through the motions or they just laid there.  but the popular girls had the lines of men at the door. that was never me, I was the one in the back seat of the car.

( well that was a side track of a thought )

the thing is — i am still here. i am loyal.

so many of you, come and go ever so silently

looking at me

enjoying what you see

or what i write.

perhaps you are adoring

but unless you tell me

and so many of you don’t

i’ll never know.

i hear it all the time.

I have been reading your blog for years.

and??? what took you so long to tell me?

what i don’t like are the ones who i’ve lost touch with.

the ones that risked being part of my personal sphere

but for one reason or another they are now gone.

it’s not really fair that they get to look at me.

i get nothing of them in return.

( one of the fine lines of meeting a man in my real life is to tell them that i do nude photography. that i take self portraits of myself nude. that i have a portfolio of nudes that is a decade old. some men just don’t get it. they get upset by it. sometimes an image i take is prompted by an interaction. this one, and a few others were taken after i had hung with someone for the day. i was photographing him working. he was nervous at first and then as the day went on – he relaxed. i got some great shots of him. at the end of the day we hugged. he had also helped me with my stranded car. and I guess I too relaxed and I hugged him with all of me. that’s who i am –  he said later. do you always hug like that?? He said that i gave the best hug he’d ever had in his life. what a nice thing to say. now i miss hugs too.  )

 

6 thoughts on “Dreams Of A Man

  1. The composition of this photo is fantastic. Lots of different lines and contrasts of dark and light. Lines and curves. It’s very “artsy”. Then, there is the back of that chair splitting your ass. Splitting you in half. It’s either erotic or symbolic of how you feel. Part of me wants to smell the chair after you get up (and i know that sounds perverted and creepy).

    • i love the dynamic of this capture also. it’s very me, artsy included. none of my photos really have an intent when i take them, how they represent themselves could be a reveal of sorts. i don’t plan that reveal. just happy accidents and good cropping. this man and I never pursued past the hug. he’s a handful of a person. moody. whiny. complaining. re: smell. not too perverted or creepy. just an honest wondering i guess. i am told my smell is awesome. sigh.

  2. “but unless you tell me

    and so many of you don’t

    i’ll never know.”

    I do appreciate you. The fascinating art, the inspiration (of which we’ve spoken, or at least written), the gift of your view of my work, the perspective from your circumstances so different from mine, I appreciate you more than I am able to write. Thank you and please continue. I’ll try to express my thoughts more often and more clearly.

    • what a great comment you have written me. see? impact is often not clear. i have always thought we had a mutual respect creatively and i am grateful for that. i intend to stay here – i am just wondering the reasons why. it’s not the same as when i began.

  3. AN i’m sure many men appreciate you more than you know,it’s sad that the state of the world with social media has made some of us,way more voyeuristic.I LOVE your photography and your form.I model for art classes and love the human body in all its shapes and forms.I really love a “natural” woman,especially a voluptuous one xoxo

    Keep up the GREAT work xoxo

    • i love the internet – i knew life without it and i think for those of us that are so internal – it’s a lifesaver. it has however shifted some not so great things.the voyeur can really access a lot. saturating the view so to speak makes it hard for us authentic artist types to get their work out there. thank you for your encouragement. you are right, many men look and don’t say anything. later i hear – i have followed you for a long while. sigh. silently

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