a lot of hits to my website and flickr this past weekend.  thank you.

i like it when you are here.

on the weekend

that’s actually pretty rare.

if you recall

i gave up posting on the weekends

radio silence and all


sometimes i guess that isn’t so.

no comments though.


somewhere around my 50th i snapped a photo of my chest using the bulb from the hood light of my stove as my light source.

i thought it was a nice portrait of sorts.

a bust as they say.


i tried that shot again.

9 years later


couldn’t get rid of the shadow of my beard using light room.

the perfectionist in me isn’t happy about that.

i will give the shot another try


there is a person recently on flickr who really let me down.

i keep saying that things use to roll off my back a lot easier

now they linger.

and circle the drain a little longer.

i hate the spin that offers me emotionally.


In Case You Thought I Was Weird

this happened 12 years ago.

the entity came to me in the middle of the night.

it did not ask permission to touch me.

but it did.

the entity took.

in essence it was like rape.

however giving and adoring,

it took and

it left me shaken.

shaken i tell you.

there is a part of me that says it was a dream.

i dream vividly. and often. i remember my dreams

but a part of me that knows the physical potential of an entity

and thinks perhaps this was a spiritual lover.

weird. i know

but if you have known of entities before ….

not so weird.

the details are extremely sexual.

arousing, physically palpable, the attention left me breathless.

imagine that you are asleep.

you are awakened by kisses and gentle caresses

still in a sleep daze

the attention becomes more sexual

finger probing


sexual and very pleasuring.

except noone is physically there.

your imagination can not fill in the blanks that have left you

remarkably aroused,

i would then awake, breathless with my legs splayed open


it happened over and over

for months.

it got to the point where i said


i said, i don’t know who you are

you do not have my permission

to touch me.

i do not want you to do this.

it scared me.

to frame where my heart and mind were at the time.

my nest was about to be empty.

financially I was going to hit a brick wall

i had lost use of my right hand

my adrenals were fatigued.

this fatigue showed up

in my body.

physical manifestation of…

i was completely falling apart

my second marriage was ending.

betrayal in many many forms are what ended it.

i was the victim of maliciousness.


i felt embarrassed by its failing. he fooled many. so so many. i was a fool

i felt mortified about being single again

i did not believe that i was of value

as a person

or as a woman

i felt a loss in my life

like a grief so crushing

that i lost a good portion of time

to tears.

and an inability to cope.

at the time i lived in a magical attic apartment of a queen anne victorian home

the energy in the space was kind.

visually magical.

crooked in a vintage way that pleased me.

like syrup on a plate of pancakes would pool on one side of the plate crooked.

i loved that apt.

that place was also a transition place

for all the things mentioned above.

this was two years before i bought my first home.

many many things to get to the other side of at that time

this was the year i lost 100lbs.

my nude photography began here,

in therapy, i did not have to defend the reality of this creature who touched me

i did not have to justify

i did not have to explain

i did have to be real though

about how violated i felt.


that the patterns of my life

include many many who TAKE.

my therapist suggested that i shift the taking feeling

to one of adoring.

that i was attractive

and adored.


and so.

i affirmed my …me, myself and I

as beautiful.

a self worth practice

that I have instilled ever since.

i am affirmed of that beauty

by adoring fans here.

even if who i was 12 years ago

is different.

very different then who i am now.

and even if my self confidence is low.

these are not the best images.

i was just figuring out this little digital camera

which later,

if you recall. i dropped

and it died.

now, the light in this place would have offered some magic for self captures.

a good portion of these belongings are now long gone. sold. memories.

my breasts don’t look like this anymore either. this was my very first nude capture.

what a memory.





The Fine Lines Of Fandom

i just took the best vacation.

i had no idea how much i needed it.


i got to a place of nothing

a zone of relax

a chill to the ninth degree.

i stretched it out as long as I possibly could.

i got to the i deserve this place too.

which felt grand.


today is my first day back to reality.

my writing this afternoon.

is a space/place away from the to-do list

which is rather long.

but long in a good way.

like due course long.

i am beginning to realize how i craft my life.

and how great it can be,

when i craft things with what’s best for me in mind.

not trying to be preachy

i just feel some clarity.

perhaps that’s what vacations provide.

my son, an avid cyclist said recently, just because someone rides a bike doesn’t mean we are friends.  it does mean that we have something in common. and that’s a great place to start. I liked that perspective

i say to new people in my life/life. my real life.  I am happy to try someone on. i love meeting new people. However I am going to be quick to acknowledge that if it isn’t a good fit. I will probably move on. i have way too little emotional energy to be with something that isn’t working for me. i also tell them it’s me defining the fine lines. that it’s often not them. i am complicated. and still rather fragile. i know of some people who want to be closer to me. I can’t do that any longer with just anyone

as fleeting, ghosting, judging and stupid as people can be. or have been. i gotta say figure out the fine lines

there ARE the good ones. true to self folks shine. i want and need shiny. i want light. i want effortless. and when i am around effortless. it’s a breath of fresh air

i say all of this because over the last few months now over a handful of you  have shared an opinion. this opinion sharing feels like the crossing of a very fine line.

I went with the first commentary. i let it roll off my emotional shoulder

i did not feel judged.

i heard the thought.

i let it go

but then another shared their thoughts, and another, and another

and now …i feel a tad bombarded by unwanted opinions.

the opinion is about the hair on my face.

you are all entitled to your thoughts about the topic

i also get that i am in an open public place about it

a virtual space

but realize this.  if i am a person now with hair on her face.

this is who i am. it’s sortof not negotiable.

it’s like if a man goes bald.

he’s now bald.

i bet that it is highly unlikely that there is a single woman in your immediate circle of influence who has a face like mine. how much do you want to bet?

and if there is, i applaud that woman. and I applaud you. especially  if you intermingle socially with that person, and/ or if you share her with your other spheres of …people.

ya see, it’s one thing to know me, to say way to go lady, to think that it takes such courage to be me. but more often than not, i am not going to be included at family dinner.

this is happening folks. this is my reality.

this is the way it is for me.

so….get with the program

for some

this face of mine

is embarrassing.

when a man that you know goes bald do you tell that dude

i don’t like your shiny head?

do you say yeah your baldness isn’t doing it for me.

because some are saying that.

about my face.

it’s fucking rude when you get right down to it.

i get opinions

i get opinionated

i get having a point  of view

i get free speech

i also get grace.

have some grace for fuck sake

have some empathy

try my circumstance on sometime and see how it FEELS.

are you on my shit list because you shared this opinion of yours?


it does make me wonder what you were thinking.

outside of your distaste for the appearance of my face and all.

it certainly does not attract me to you

it does not have me trust the nature of our communications as nurturing, compassionate, kind and supportive.

perhaps some thoughts are better left unsaid.

the reality of all of this is many of us have known each other a very long time

a decade long time

you and i hanging out in real life??

highly unlikely.

so i am i am never going to embarrass you.

put your vote so to speak where it matters.

onto other things….

in my fantasies – i meet a nice guy who loves to cycle casually on sunday. he realizes that i cANt navigate a bike on my own. so he invests in one of these. as corny as a bicycle built for two is,  i adore the old fashioned sentiment. i like the idea of doing together in a way that works …considering all involved.

this gem of a bike was at a place i was featured at… as an artist. i sold some art and gabbed with people who felt curious about me and my work. very low ebb of an afternoon but lovely.

the memory of an old schwinn takes me to many places. i’ve had 3. only one had the glitter hand grips. she was a buttery brown.

i feel too vulnerable to ride a bike now.

i am not a pig tail gal. more of a braids person. on this day though i was lazy. i love the part in back because there is only a very small moment of the dark hair left that use to be my signature. the rest is silvered or turned of all things rather white. i love the contrast

i call these two shots pig tails and jasmine rice. it was a daily, making rice, kitchen cabinet door left  open ( i do that. a lot ) moment. plus it’s not a bad shot of that tatt of mine.

perhaps i should feel apologetic about the beginning of this post.

like maybe my thoughts are not what you want to hear

but I don’t feel sorry.

i feel truthful

perhaps that’s where some of you were coming from too.






if you say the word trigger

it’s an alert.

it says you have survived something

and usually those somethings are not good.

its a word that is used way too often now.


i loathe mainstream terms

sure i survived.


but when there is  hashtag and a campaign around it

when survivors are now a tribe


The words do however set the tone.

and the word trigger

i find very useful

i didn’t mean to run into these images but here they fucking are.

the triggers in this trio are there.

allow me to share.

first image. i remember this day. i had put this dress on backwards and didn’t notice. so like me.  this shot – headless me? was a bit like where had I gone. the “i” part. I love the missing head, the front of the dress on the back of me and the feet in the other direction — this is a great odd shot. I was losing my home here. my lovely little circa 1926 bungalow. my lovely 27 windows of 4 way light. my first space of my very very own. the owning of which happened without a plan in 4 days. my income once here began to spiral. the beginnings of repressed memories and trauma began here. and, so did my alter ego that all of you know so so well. ( or think you know anyway ) I have been writing for cathartic reasons lately and am glad of it. thank you for reading. and for noticing. i am ok. just alone as usual.  but thank you for wondering. so the trigger in this image was the toaster oven. go figure. when i moved in with mr cowboy. he pitched my toaster oven. big big demonstrative ceremony to the dumpster. this has got to go. in the scheme of things NOW I actually have no need for one. but then — a toaster oven was a fixture of home. and he dismantled home emotionally for me. at so so many levels. he messed with it. he messed with me.

second image.  in my creative mind and heart. images like these are an expression and story i want to tell. coupling. my belief in two. visually the moment captured here = lust and desire. it shares an i feel pretty and it pauses a something between two that is a feeling. not a selfie, not contrived, not predicted. it’s real. i can feel the tenderness of these two lips touching. it was like that between us. chemistry at it’s best. lips kissing to wet between them lovely. yum.  the day after this was taken. this man dumped me via text. who the fuck does that. i was stunned.  i gave it or his so called dump some time, because it was JUST weird. He crawled back with an automatic sorry and a handful of pesticide ridden yellow roses. I allowed that. this is where i should say to myself wtf  — because i asked for more of him.  we all have part in our messes. the trigger in this one — stops me in my emotional tracks. the very very memory of such tenderness makes my stomach turn inside out. how is this even missing from my LIFE. we all deserve kisses. lots and lots of them.

The last image was taken for someone who at the time was paying attention to me virtually. he. like most. fleeted. but at the time this was taken for him. the banter was very lovely. I enjoyed taking this image and would do so for  special certain reasons and circumstances. This image reminds me triggers all of my humble beginnings – 10 years ago — my alter ego, my courage to be nude and my looking at myself. inside and out. I keep trying to say… that person is no longer here. I keep speculating about trauma, and age because the other side of it all is there and real. when i look at this image i don’t see the same flesh. and age has altered the demographic

At some level I have stopped looking. or have lost the desire or the feeling of i am…worth looking at i guess. and this isn’t to self deprecate. this is to say who really cares. because who does ?? because really.  if am deserving and worthy. then that should be standing by my side.

My cat was sick last week. for about 4 days she wouldn’t leave me. her curled form upon my chest had me feel a tenderness again that had me weep. she’s a fucking cat. and some of you are not cat people so, i get that but  …the emotional value of a pet is sortof there. and she, and I are together more than anything else. the thing is. i, as you know, tell stories with my photography. i offer a narrative. and doing so in social media has had a volume of folks fall in love with her. It’s pretty neat. In the spirit of that — two strangers and one friend have gifted funds for a now empty vet envelope. not small change either. generous gifting.  That said, I am fully prepared for a next circumstance for her in a way I would have not been able to manage on my own. THIS is pretty great.

I should write more about the gifting economy sometime. and money, and triggers.

another time. 

What Attraction Felt Like

you may like me

in a desire me sort of way

i won’t ever physically feel that

not in a knowing way

not in a way that things can be with

something real.


touchable or


I could adorn a certain dress

or have freshly washed hair

or reveal the nape of my neck

those simple details can get the attention i yearn for

those days are so very very long gone.


i might think i look ok

and feel attractive and pretty

i imagine adoring eyes.

the leaning in to kiss me

or my favorite

when you pull me to you

in lust.

i want it too

you can tell.

the air between us

takes a breath.

a touch can give me goosebumps

a touch can make me blush

a touch can have me arch my back

bring me to a purr

a touch can take me elsewhere in my body and in my mind.

someones touch  readies me for more

i am responsive that way

i am not one to say no

because i enjoy touch

i enjoy it so so very much.

it was the men in my life who said no

never i

i had desire

all the time.

when the want was mutual

the touching felt amplified



i remember a very hot summer afternoon

i was wearing a simple cotton nightie

it had bits of lace at the edges of its square neckline

the cotton was thin

slightly sheer

i stood in the threshold of the back door near him

i had just taken a bath

A huge breeze found us.

he had been ignoring me for weeks now

and i remember thinking with every part of me

i want him to want me

i want his desire

i remember the sun on my face

late afternoon warm.

the wind was so unexpected

we just stood there as it swept over the two of us.

my nipples got hard

i gasped.

he was not detail minded sexually

but for some reason in that moment

a kiss on my neck found me.

i looked at him

clearly hungry for him

he responded.

when someone says yes

vs no.

attraction is one of the best feelings.



All Over The Place

a few things.

i made an art piece last week. i had come across imagery that triggered a memory

turns out i once shared the story about that memory here

i’d forgotten how many stories/poetic commentary i had written on this blog.

since my words seem to be of value to you

this makes me glad i wrote a thing or two

many of you leave a comment or email me and say that you have been following my work for years.  i love that.

yet somehow you’ve never shared your fandom before.

how can years go by with no word from you?

is it a privacy thing? a she won’t reply thing??

and then,

something compels you to write to me.

i love that.

tell me what has you write to me.

you can ask anyone. i always reply

sometimes i wonder what specifically makes someone write.

what thing did i perhaps say?

what image did i post?

or was it a courage thing.

i’ve had some of you say it takes courage to write.

i don’t bite

i do have boundaries.

more lately.

lots mre

i vet who i give my time or personal thoughts to

i have become good at knowing who needs me to say stop

and MOST who do write

are fleeting.

i’ve said that before.

a few stay

a few write often

a few  find we are different yet get to the other side of those differences and become friends

others i find i have little in common with.

some just have to be let go.

Many of you know that a year ago my little canon died.

can’t believe that was a year ago already


someone at that time gave me a little lumix

a camera actually that someone had given to them.

the lumix and I didn’t have a good chemistry

i struggled.


i tried another canon

it helped define me as a canon girl.

good thing to know

mr texas — ( gosh not sure i’ve ever mentioned you as a mr before – there have been a few other mr’s from texas – they aren’t around any longer. you are though!! ) he bought me another little canon. wow – right?? he also treated me to a pro flickr account. he and I are creative peers. we mutually admire each others work. i encouraged him to post again for the sense of community it brings. he did.

with the little cannon i am back to feeling like i have MY expression back

it feels so good!!

so, this week i payed forward the little lumix

the gal who i gave it to brought me flowers

she’s giving the lumix  camera to her daughter.

full circle

there was inquiry re: panty sales this week. inquiry. not a sale. takes a certain sort of person to ask about panties. one said his interest was to smell my essence or was it to experience my essence. ??? something like that.  he said more but that’s between he and I. there was no sale with him, or with the recent inquiry. i sell panties for additional income. that’s really why i sell them. i offer distinction in what i sell, and i don’t really want to negotiate or banter. if you buy my panty we are not all of a sudden best friend

i do share that i have things i am saving for. car repair fund, a new lap top fund, and shoes. currently i have had some layer of fiscal fluidity. but then something knocks me flat so I have to start over

this weeks  inquiry had me revisit the category of panties and stories around them. here at the panty gallery

many of you have gifted me panties.

i keep them all in this. a cut velvet bag. my second wedding dress was made out of this fabric. its a delicious bag. it was a gorgeous dress.

truth be in my day to day i don’t often wear panties

which is why so many look new.








below is what is left.

the “inventory”

the nude pair was a free pair. it’s a skimpy thong. super soft fabric

the hot pink one i bought myself. they have a hole in them where the tag once was

the patterned pair – is the pair that i am wearing for the header of this blog. super silky. from mr detroit

A black and lace pair are also from mr detroit. he was the first ever to buy me panties. at that time i had lost all that weight, and was wearing very old granny cotton panties. yikes. he buys me socks too.

he was also the person who changed my life forever by sending the first little canon – that camera made me look, and still makes me look,  like a rock star!! my current version is the third version of it.  i have over 70,000 images in my files that I’ve taken with those cameras.

mr bahrain also contributed — my fancy panties are from him. the ruffled ones. the prop shoes i couldn’t keep any longer. my feet and all, hate that.

why am i saying all of this??

just feeling really grateful.

it’s been an all over the place week

i need someone to talk to

its the weekend.



If I Had A Basket

if i put all my eggs in the i hope basket …. there is in actuality more than one basket. There are 4.

With my work, i court someone sometimes for years to purchase with me. I don’t put all my energy into that basket these days. it’s more like a place I coast in and out of. it wasn’t that way 20 plus years ago. back then it was my everything basket. it gave me the where with all to leave my first husband. it was hope plus more.

with my art basket  i hope for many a yes to an inquiry to a gallery. i also hope for continued ideas and fluidity. it’s the ideas that excite me – bringing them into reality and all. in current times this is the most full of all of my baskets.  this basket is what keeps my mind and my heart in an even place. both of these baskets come with a lot of no. and a lot of patience. my work training has me not take the no personally. it’s about who or what is next. i can let those nos roll off my back.

when i think of the people i love with every part of me, they also get a basket that wishes for their well being and success and i am very loyal to them. until i am not. i guess this basket goes for friends too. i had a friend in 4th grade. we did everything together. on the first day of college her parents made me follow them and got me settled. note it was someone else’s parents there for me. not my own. this friend and I had a lot of life that we shared together. when boys entered the equation there was a shift. she had other interests than me. once we got to college it was her opportunity to separate. she became ordinary. a word i use for someone that does not strike their own individual pose. i was more of an individual. my one year in college was so messed up. and, i had no one to speak to about what had occurred. some of those circumstances became repressed memories. post – trauma stuff. a year of my life that I should perhaps be in therapy for. ( ha!! ) Today the 4th grade friend gives me a polite like on social media. and occasionally a christmas card – no personal news or sharing. For a gal i told everything to when I was little …she does not give me the time of day. when her brother died. a few years back. no details were shared. when did the friendship fall apart?? Sometimes I think. How long did she not like me or put up with me. I may have thought she was ordinary but i treasured her. i mean many people are ordinary. it’s not a criticism, it’s a description. yet, as we all know this happens, people come and go. it happens with men, it happens with old friends, it happens with new. there is this turning point and poof. its different.

The last basket is the men basket. This basket is empty most of the time now. I know and have fondness for many many people in my life. Those are acquaintances. and those people are true. and varied and many, both men and women i have grand fondness for but those people often do not have a vested interest in me. they know me, they watch me. they encourage, from afar. They are not inner circle people. Oddly here. as an alter ego — fans would go in this basket too, since most of them are men.  This is a tired, worn, frayed basket. I fill it occasionally now, tentatively and for moments — but the basket is fleeting. Sometimes though i go to that hope place, it’s a slippery emotional slope place that i feel in my gut. I like the feeling of hope. Most of the time the hope is simply wishful.  Like Mr camera man. he lent me a camera last summer. i had him to dinner to thank him. the evening we had was effortless. i mean it. a really lovely lovely evening. the word effortless is now what i am looking for because to me that feels really good.  when i later asked if he dates. he said no. he said, i gave that up a long time ago. i got a dog instead. and he meant it.  he is painfully alone, yet can’t manage the intensity of someone in his life. wtf?

I admit I am not very patient with this last basket. I think the hopeful is too wanting somehow.  I just don’t find many take the chance on others anymore – I don’t have the same belief in people anymore. as a fan from here said. “people disappoint me” The thing is, if this sad basket  has an ounce of opportunity. I will still risk. i do this because i still have hopeful in me. i am not emotionally dead yet.

Last night i was at an event and met a gal who was an archeologist – somehow we…two perfect strangers…got on this topic. it almost brought both of us to tears. i shared my current philosophy with her about being hopeful. i like to say to someone new in my life. “try me on”  like a coat in a store. make sure the shoulders fit, be sure that the buttons land right. so the shoulders settle square on your body? will this coat keep my warm?? Shelter me? Give it a go and see. Some coats don’t fit just right. We might put up with an ill fitting coat because we want to avoid confrontation, or perhaps we lost the receipt.  Do you get what I mean??  The conversation she and I had was wonderful. At the end of it, she said, I am going to hug you now. Pretty cool. She is why I have this on my mind this morning.

Thanks for reading all of this. obviously its an emotional roller coaster ride these past days.