DICK

today.

3 years ago

i got dumped.

( man what a day that was ) 

dumped by a guy.

dumped by a guy i had moved in with.

dumped by a guy i moved in with on a 2 year term

the “help me get back on my feet” terms

heck – he invited me.

i said “are you understanding what i need right now?”

oh yes.

he understood completely.

i needed the help.

or so i thought.

The pictures from the fall of 2013

to the summer of 2015

tell the story.

what brought us together?

some good honest physical chemistry

two pretty lonely people.

why not.

what were the red flags?

looking back – boy oh boy

a zillion.

so so many red flags.

sigh.

all the red flags i asked him about from his dating profile

actually came to fruition. imagine that.

i still have a folder of images of him that i pulled when i was leaving

as i was sorting in my head what happened – and especially what happened at the end.

images of him passed out.

he was a drunk.

i missed it in our “on good behavior” dating times

but man,

once i was there

it got real

really fast.

he had a serious drinking problem.

would anyone believe me.

i tried to drink like he did.

i mean maybe drinking like that is fun or something.

i couldn’t do it.

it never felt good.

i didn’t get it.

drinking to oblivion was nothing like social drinking.

while we dated he called me every day

we spoke sometimes for an hour

every day.

weekends. together.

he always asked

“when can i see you again.”

i actually liked that.

when i lived with him

communication stopped.

on this day 3 years ago

he wrote me a note.

a note that i found when i woke up

the note was telling me how to behave or else.

the note flipped a switch in me.

excuse me?? or else???

i saw stars.

or else?????

so, i started to write him back.

put a little note on the fridge.

there.

but i had more to say.

so, i wrote another little note, and taped it next to the first one.

all of a sudden i just had to write more of my thoughts

or i was going to just burst.

27 notes later.

notebook size.

yikes

all taped to the kitchen cabinets

next to each other

it was like a huge banner

of AN thoughts.

sigh.

and then i left.

so, my thoughts could be found.

not sure what that might be like to find for someone

perhaps a tad over the top??

it has to be over the top to really know me

i can’t imagine that truthfully.

what is it fucking like to know me??

when i got home. yes home. where i lived

my notes were all neatly piled on the kitchen table.

he was making dinner.

would you like a drink?

that night ( over my favorite dinner ) he said

i am done with you.

there ya go.

no discussion.

done.

fucker.

i am sure the story is written in some form in blog posts of 7/2015

this morning i was prompted to share images of his cock

truth be, i don’t take a lot of male anatomy images

i did during my winter artist residency – those were nudes

not dicks

or cock.

one is in an art show as I type.

ha!!

but lovers cock pics?

like trophies or something??

not really my thing.

i might actually have a mr ny shot that I took,  so there is that.

he stopped communicating with me

his loss.

i also miss him.

he liked my quirks.

while out today i thought about cock pictures

and thought

there WERE times that I  photographed his dick

I decided to find them.

and post them.

for the fuck of it

closure.

DICK.

i am reminded.

in the color shots

that he was getting hard

while i was photographing him

which was rather exciting if i recall correctly

and then someone knocked on the door.

so that set was interrupted

that interruption actually really upset him

almost getting caught and all.

geesh

for what it’s worth

there ARE “coupling” shots of him and I

that I just love.

he just was not a patient or playful enough muse

a following could have been made just on the ideas i had for couple nude work

 

 

Outfit Deja Vu

get out of town.

i have this very same outfit on

like right now.

yes, this very minute

i am adorned exactly the same way as these shots!

ha!!

that around the house

simple

get up.

obviously nothing fancy.

no bra

no panties.

hair up in a clip.

sameness.

this image series

was taken at the cave.

it was wicked hot that day.

not sure what i was making there…

today

i also have a sweatshirt on.

cuz …it’s not hot here.

just so you know.

we are celebrating.

today is the very day mr cowboy

ended things

one year ago,

as i described it then,

that was a day that

my life turned upside down.

a breakupversary!  ha!!!

we can call that word an AN – ism.

i am so over the break up. him.

so to speak.

just not over.

the lack of completion around it all.

no closure.

ownership.

chalk it up i guess to those times in your life where someone is simply passing you by.

there is a sameness to my life sometimes

i will have to replicate this series here in my country studio.

keep that sameness thing going.

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His Shame

i think that all of us.

in some way feel we communicate well.

i mean how would one otherwise get through their day to day.

if you’ve lived enough

you begin to see

that not everyone communicates well at all

or maybe

we just all speak our own language

and hope that someone can make sense of it.

i always have a lot to say.

a story to tell.

i express all.

good and bad.

i have loads of feelings

observations

thoughts

i like that about myself.

considering who

i’ve married

or dated.

they would say

i am a poor communicator.

or that i say too much.

always easier to sling it the other way.

takes two to do anything

in the communication vain.

i personally would rather say more

than too little

or none.

silence just sucks

i have seen many things along the way

but this,

the experience i am about to share

was pretty intense.

i don’t remember what prompted the incident

whatever it was.

it shut him down.

basically he clasped his hands together.

placed them in his lap.

he hung his head low.

really really low.

his face

looked like it was turning inside out.

i use the phrase embriotic ( sp ?)

he just went sortof fetal.

if i asked a question

his reply

was

i have nothing to say.

i have nothing to say.

i have nothing to say.

eventually he said nothing.

the experience was seriously intense.

if a man was in the middle of his work day, in the middle of a tough meeting…would he behave that way??

how did he ever ever learn that it was ok to do that at home.

more importantly

who did this to him over and over

or what happened to him

over and over

and why?

how is it that he – an adult man

could even begin to think that this was a way to cope

with a tough conversation.

or any conversation for that matter?

my first experience with this emotional and physically manifested withdrawl

left me very confused, very worried, scared almost.

it was like the behavior of a beaten child.

except i don’t personally really know that scene.

i then thought i was to blame.

like i said something wrong

like “i” was the trigger or something.

i then thought,

gosh — can i help this man get to the other side of this

engrained and very very unhealthy behavior?

well the truth was.

i could not.

this persons entire ability to emotionally cope

included some pretty heady avoidance.

and not a single person

along the way

thought to consider helping him.

or offering insight that there are definitely other ways.

what i was left with

was a huge sense of hopelessness about this human being.

the disconnect truly truly frightened me.

it was like he was less of a person somehow

not only for himself,

but also for anyone in his life.

he just never got to the other side.

ever.

while traveling west.

i did this collage.

it speaks emphatically to

what that experience

felt and looked like.

i am grateful that i appeared in this perspective

myself

and

whole.

but no matter who i was in the matter.

he was very broken.

i give you

his shame.

i was grateful for this release.

thank you subconscious mind.

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Left Him

i have officially left mr cowboy.

i have begun my travels to my new life west.

and

i am a year older today.

oh happy me day!

i am here.

( see images below )

in great company

where i did my artist residency

two years ago.

time flies right.

i am emotional.

very very tired

and beginning to

peel back the layers of all of this

THANK YOU to those of you who have gifted to the an moves west fund – wow!!  the goal now is a to have a small cash stash just in case of a car emergency,  3223 miles is a long way in a 15 yr old car.  Should you want to give too, just email me and i will give you an email address for my personal pay pal.  donating/gifting is very easy that way

 

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This Is Real

well – here we go, phase who knows what, of the move. i wanted you to know that this is real.

my research had me choose the cube method for relocating my belongings.

to reduce the expense you have the option of loading yourself at the terminal.  

i obviously didn’t load the moving cube myself, by grace a good friend arrived with a truck and a 12 foot trailer.  

mr cowboy was in a rage the night prior. abusive and threatening commentary. enough for me to try with all my might to eliminate him from the help me move equation.

unfortunately, the process was complicated and the timing was bad for anyone else to help.  mr cowboy did come through but along with him he brought tension.  a move is intense enough without adding negativity. we got through it.  

i knew that my moving cube was a limited space, and i got rid of and rid of and rid of these last weeks, but when all was tied to the trailer – it still appeared like a lot of stuff.  looked and felt a bit like the beverly hillbillies.  driving up to the cube it felt like no way. but i’ll be damned if everything fit, but ONE single item.  I won’t have my car filled with stuff either which was one of my goals. 

I took the final image the day after the move – seems to say it all.  

SO many of you have written to encourage my journey and to donate to the AN moves west fund.  thank you!!! it occurred to me that i may have budgeted for gas, some lodging etc, i do not have any spare funds for if my car broke down.  so, that is what i need most now. I have a pay pal account that you can chime into – just ask me and I will give you the entry email address. and thank you again !!!

 

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Precious Privacy

when i began here.

at anonymously nude

i was single.

i was about to turn 50

i had uprooted my life.

i escaped the stalking of one ex.

( thinking he knew my routines, he’d lurk as I went about certain parts of my day. just to be eerie and mean ) 

the other ex would randomly stop over.

(we’d be very busy as a family doing this that and the other and he would just show up, ask to use the restroom. ummmm dude go to a f-ing gas station.  very very annoying. )

both of them combined completely frayed my nerves.

our lives had parted, ended, not gone well, over.

divorce does that.

i did that twice

AND not as friends.

they should have seriously just left me be.

i had once owned a home.

it was a 3 flat.

income producing by idea.

not so income producing in reality.

space shared. people above, people below

neighbors.

i never realized until i had my very own home.

this recent space that you all know and love with me.

how precious privacy was.

perhaps it was the combination of my nest emptying

the demise of yet another marriage.

the move/flight to leave all of that behind

at least physically.

emotionally?

well that was another story.

the truth be…

in all my very being,

from birth on —

i have always always lived with other people.

moving in with mr cowboy never felt like i lost my privacy.

more so, i just felt so very comfortable here.

not the cave – the physical part.

just was how comfortable i felt with him.

emotionally.

physically.

in our good days anyway.

i had plenty of my own time while he worked.

turns out the time defined as we once full time

was less than i expected.

much less.

and certainly less in comparison to dating.

my happiest of times were in his arms.

the most simple thing.

yet almost indescribable.

i am missing this tenderness

right now

i miss this

in a way

that is,

indescribable.

what i have to consider now.

is what is next.

i thought that finding a someone to go off into the next layer of life with was my goal.

after this experience with mr cowboy?

the emotional risk?

the time lost.

the open wound

the saving face?

the loss of so much that was my own?

i wonder if i can date/befriend and have that and it’s benefits be enough?

below taken about 2 yrs ago.

the day i met mr cowboy.

i was so excited.
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The Way Things Are

mr cowboy says he no longer wants to be in a relationship, but he wants to fuck.

well, i like sex too and am happy to keep that layer going.

we are living together.

and,

it is the cave and all

the thing is he can’t just roll me over in the middle of the night and do me  like a dog —

yet that’s exactly what he did.

he’s not normally like that sexually –

but after 3 weeks w/o and as confusing as it is around here.

well thats how things are.

see for him to be sexual he has to take a dick pill.

so that incident – that roll me over thing, was pre-meditated.

he had to take the pill and then execute accordingly.

or masturbate.

he seemingly negated me from the process.

so…

i thanked him for our little interlude, and then said

ummmm,

instead of doing something so animalistic?

consider alerting me to the fact that you have taken something for arousal.

i am cracking up as i type this –

so he says to me some days following.

i took a dick pill.

Which i guess meant — i took a dick pill and we are having sex now.

i then said –

i wonder if in addition to sharing that you are horny, perhaps you could say something like i miss you or i want you or how nice i look or something??

He said. hmmmmph.

so the next time –

he snuggled in from behind, breathed in my hair, grabbed my nipple and said – i took a dick pill.

i guess we are getting somewhere.

SIGH

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