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


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. 




Once Upon A Time There Was A Story

my art is narrative.

my photography and art making are story telling.

i am a gifted visual artist

I have a way with words

so i am told.

to tell the story that is now. i find myself tongue tied.

like perhaps the tale is not particularly pretty or sexy or erotic, or that there isn’t much of a story to tell, or that i am a downer.

thats a lot of “or”

i know i am downer, who am i fooling

i still get private messages that are kind, or playful, or a gift, or someone will encourages me, or my blog gets high traffic like today. ( woot )

i could think that happens because I am loved.

and that’s pretty wonderful.

the reality is most who come here have lives and commitments that do not include me.

vested interests are elsewhere.

i am pretty sure many who come here are simply looking to whack off.

but hey, if you are seeking something other than that.

i might want to know.

which gets me to the point of this post.

what makes the image posted below a delicious visual story?

this is a very beautiful, very “me” capture.

this image is what makes this blog. what made this blog?

( image by K Smith for anonymously nude )

this was taken on a crisp sunny bright winter late afternoon. near valentines day.  2011.  My hair is almost all silver now. geeesh. i had just completed an email exchange with a consistent and attentive male. after the email i felt aroused. not all fans arouse me. i have to feel a trust somehow. i have to be attracted to that person. chemistry plays a role. even in a virtual way

consistent because he was there, day in day out. attentive in that he paid attention to the details. he remembered the little things. he paid attention to the me in the equation. he knew what to say.

i took this image because i felt i had a valentine. it was fantasy, but in that moment. I was his and He was mine.

this man was married, a father, an employee at a corporate job, yet he found a way to have time for me, to validate me. the word validate is the difference between the very hot sexy excited me then, and the broken me now.

one can not look this way ( or like this image ) alone. this image is the product of two.

i don’t subscribe to the you don’t need someone else to validate you …just validate yourself!!


i am better when i have someone paying attention to me.

an erotic capture like the above?

takes two.

now, as the story goes

i no longer held the sexual attention of this man,

he was there for the arousal

he had needs that i was not willing to provide.

i could never really have him. loyal that he was to his marriage.

we both felt frustrated.

i was there for the kindness. i was there for the attention.

perhaps i didn’t mind the bit of self touch

on the side.

there is of course way more to the story, and the volume of them from that time.

NINE years ago.

THIS narrative however is an OLD story.

i don’t look like this now.

self touch was brand new then.

now, masturbation is pretty down and dirty.

i self love to get a desperate release.

it’s not particularly fun anymore

the attention/validation person/s

is/are long gone now.

i am different now.

there is no two to the equation.

i am not willing to play that way now.

all of it is rather sad.

don’t ya think??

I’m sorry.

i will visually share the bright and shiny old me

so as to not disappoint you with the now me.

i say this not for self pity.


i am trying to find the words

that describe what’s different.

who i am now

is not who I was then.

i think the images do it better than I do.

not sure who i am right now.

that might be the truth right there.

( images by K Smith for anonymously nude )

P.S. Sold this heart photograph yesterday. Just in time for Valentines Day. May  yours be filled with love.





Uneventful Yet Lovely

my birthday was rather uneventful. mostly self realized. yet lovely.  the right people made the right gestures. as did some folks I never hear from. which I think is rather nice.

i asked for things i wouldn’t normally buy for myself, and got a few of them. enough to feel an indulgence. all in all. it was a very nice day. i got myself a piece of mocha chocolate cake that had me moaning – that’s the purpose of a good piece of cake. yes? . i was gifted a volume of onions and garlic that had me decide to make myself a french onion soup. good bread, cheese and wine must accompany. I got a local cheese and bread. I wish i could do that more often. Buy from food artisans. Alas. Not on my budget.

I invited a few to share in this bday meal with me, but after the third no. I gave up. Not because folks have other plans on a week night. More so. I didn’t feel like the kerplunk of another no was very celebratory.

a few birthday wishes from here found me. thank you for that.

there was the good company of my cat.

some of you don’t really give a shit about my cat.

but that’s your problem.

she’s been a source of a lot of laughter for me

and more cuddles than i’ve known from a human in some time.

she smells good and vibrates.

i am tired.

sometimes that tired

takes me to numb.


Classic And Blurry

I spent the weekend in the blur of some technique research.

that rabbit hole thing that is know as “google it.”

yesterday i noticed there was some rare traffic at my blog from over the weekend.

thank you, thank you very much for being here with me. 

if you ever feel like letting me know you are around. I’d value that too!!

it’s nice to know who you are

YEARS ago I was a scrapbooker. A nice way to memorialize family photos. I completed 15 albums.  I dismantled a life time of photographs that had been in basic albums from the drug store.  Very organized. I super regret doing that now. The dismantling all part.  They are not all in a row any longer. If you think of a life time of photographs. printed, the old fashioned film sort. it’s a task to have them available to view. a monumental task. then digital happened. and it got confusing.

I disliked the digital album making immensely.

what i disliked about scrapbooking is that it was a huge consumer driven model of making. buy. buy. buy. the more one got involved the more one could buy. there were folks who turned entire rooms into making spaces for this expression. the volume of made in china supplies were stored in custom designed closets. or in plastic bins with cute matchy matchy tags. I found this all rather horrifying. upsetting actually.  I didn’t realize then that those who knit, or batik, or quilt or whatever craft they got themselves into were equally devoted to having all the stuff. so much stuff. so many tools. so much purchasing. a hoarding of sorts.

i also disliked how conforming the making could be. perhaps it was by design to have all who participate be successful at it. i sortof get that. it’s just that everyone’s scrapbook essentially looked the same. cookie cutter.

perhaps you get by now that i am the least conforming person on the planet. my personal mission back then was to spend as little money as possible. and to have my pages look different then others. Scrapbooking was my beginnings in learning to crop photography. I got very good at it. AND my pages did look quite unique.

you then get into the very very fine lines of making that is craft. vs making that is art.

THAT was the rabbit hole I found myself in over the weekend. the crafters.

in my drawer i had three bottles of alcohol inks. someone gave them to me. she said, you will love these. back then there wasn’t the google monster to get lost in with tutorials. (speaking of — those crafter people all have fancy ways of videotaping themselves making. when did that happen??? Its like being on a different planet ) after watching a few – the very very last thing i want to do is master this medium. who knew. or many other from the craft store buy me now supply.

I could actually expound on this topic a lot further.

but i won’t.

my point is i took a break from how i normally do weekend to do some research.

i did find quite a bit of helpful or idea inspiration.

i just have to find my own way with those now.

Something also occurred to me.

like knocked me over the head actually.

this blog has always been image sharing from yesterdays images.

it’s hard to explain.

right now it’s the month of june.

i normally would search images from june of 2018 for here. ( a year gone by )

and share imagery from june 2017 for flickr.

I’d  use those images to tell stories.

either stories of current thoughts

or stories prompted by those images.

i stopped doing that in 2019.

I have gone done memory lane image wise occasionally

but not by process for most posts.

i hope you get what i mean.

ALL that said

posting in real time

parallel to my day to day struggles

has left me with a feeling of vulnerability.

a very very different exposure

I have been trying to understand how raw it’s felt lately to be here.

it’s because of the way I am sharing.

is this a good idea or not??

I am not sure.

I think the experiment is worth continuing

i just wondered what you feel you’ve been part of lately.

is the tone different for you too??

( the bathroom has a pocket door. it and above my bed are the only blank wall or such space in my city studio. i try and capture with as little things of my life distraction as possible but when you live so small. under 300 square feet – it’s hard to do that. i had not thought to use this door as a space for a backround until now. i will have to see when the light actually gets over there. )


Who Was That Mr?

i like these images for the angst they portray.

final days here to the next move

so tension was thick.

there was this guy.

for the life of me now I can’t remember his “mr” name

we had a banter going for awhile

re: dating/meeting

distance however was an issue.

an appointment came up for me and i was going to be near him

so i asked if he would care to share an evening meal.

he agreed.

he was significantly late.

he had a necklace on.

big thick gold chain.

when a free appetizer arrived from the chef

he took his bread and scooped all the sauce off the plate.

i probably looked horrified.

he said something like

oh. sorry. i’m really hungry.

he spoke without breathing

for the next 2 1/2 hours.

he constantly looked at his phone.

mid dinner

i was fuming.

one can only uh huh so much.

i stopped even nodding at some point.

he was so not interesting.

and so full of himself

and so rude.

the dinner was great.

at least there was that.

when i got home.

i was still furious.

was it me.

did i do

or be


that had him

act that way?

it was my 4th

monster of a date in this town

and it sucked.

all of them sucked.

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The Act Of Removing

taken at my former apartment – i like the act of removing, i like the way it feels on my skin. the release of breast flesh as my sweater makes its way beyond them …the notion that it’s alluring somehow. especially if someone is watching. the only one watching at this point and time was the cat, and she obviously wasn’t that interested. the entire reason i take these images is to take a look at myself and remind me, myself and I….that there is beauty to be seen. if i looked in the mirror, my minds eye would see…lonely, scared and the marvel of my fallen breast tissue or how red i am – i was having a hot flash here – no pun intended. just my reality.  I’d like to just remove myself. period. i am experiencing a volume of anxiety lately. i can’t seem to separate myself from the zeal or tone of panic of so many around me. i am usually able to feel grounded and to distance myself.  not this time. how it shows up mostly is indecision. takes me a bit to get to things or to get things done. perhaps it’s winter, lack of light, the way it’s always below 65 degrees in here. i ache for comforting. or cozy or safe. or retreat. for a very long time. granted i am choosing to test myself. this month some letting go happening and bringing in new or different. change feels hard. 

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