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

something

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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Fine Lines

fine lines

i have been thinking about something,

the attention i emphatically enjoy from here

is from fans.

fans of

my nudity

or the story i’ve written

or the idea that you have access to me somehow

because i am responsive.

you encourage me

you keep me here

you keep me nude.

thank you.

so …

there is this fine line

when i date.

IF

i date

(i guess i should say)

dating isn’t happening currently

but if it did

i have to tread that fine line

of me.

and me here.

i say this

because me here.

much like growing out all of my hair

and the acceptance of that in my reality

is important.

all of you did that for me.

someone here said grow it.

you loved the process of it growing

you enjoyed it grown.

follow me so far?

so hello new man in my life

what might you want to know about me first.

i come fully loaded

complicated

passonate

different.

and

i am nude online. as an alter ego.

hope you are good with that.

i don’t want my potential dates to read or know the nude part of me

here.

well not exactly.

i mean

it’s here. and public

but

when they are getting to know me as a person

i would like the nude part to be.

part of the unwrapping

part of the discovery.

like most woman they know.

make sense??

if you know me from my online dating profile

and you know me nude and here

and, i know nothing about you

it somehow makes me really rather vulnerable.

let me reverse this thought.

here you all are

at my blog

and you see me nude

and you know my words

and you are kind to me

there are glimpses of my reality

mr’s come from this space.

dating??

is that a fine line?

why?

why does dating not come from here

whats the difference?

explain to me

if you wanted to date me

what had you not ask to meet me?

if i asked

do i set myself up for trouble??

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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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What If I Bend Over And Play

the trick at the cave, much like here in the country studio, is finding the light at the right time and making use of it visually.

how do i look here in this doorway.

or over here on this part of the couch

what if i bend over and

play.

another trick is keeping superfluous shit out of the pic. sortof like bathroom selfies …i personally don’t want to see the toilet or the deoderant you use. geeesh. do you?

these of course had no natural light…because it was the cave. duh.  my country studio has windows but they face north and south and light seems different here. when the son rose at my little house? it would fill the east side of my home with rays of light.  not finding that here. not exactly anyway. i adore the darks in these.

an intense day today in these parts.

intense in degrees lately.

i have moments when i feel like i am living and perhaps even alive. vibrant, vital, valuable.

happy. relaxed. looking forward to something.

they are moments.

mostly, i am still eeking myself through my day

panic is the word that struck me today.

sheer panic.

like how is this all going to actually work.

killed a third mouse last night.

this time i didn’t even hear the trap

how sick is that. i slept through it’s death

when i kill them. i wrap them in newspaper and freeze them.

if i said that already. just ignore me.

need more traps.

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