It’s Not Like It Use To Be

took a nap yesterday. very occasionally i simply need to do that. when I do, i usually sleep but good. like out cold. yesterday, the cat was pacing herself around me, trying to get me out of bed i guess. I knew her presence somehow. it was like napping with one eye open – I thought at some level she doesn’t know what is going on, but sleeping was way more valuable to me then her. she did settle in at some point. purring at the nook of my legs behind my knee.

i dreamt about a swimming pool full of cats, they were floating on their backs. sunning themselves. all of them had massive human hard ons. the dream shifted from the bright sun, brilliant blue of the pool and wet cat fur….to one of cartoon renderings. Thats when the male anatomy showed up. exaggerated and absolutely ridiculous.  and of course, rather inviting. i am sure one can analyze the heck out of the subconscious reveal of that one.

I stumbled upon this retro hairy capture.  back in the day when i let the hair on my legs and my armpits grow out. there was a lot of hair. it was dark, long and there was plenty of it. sharing that growth with all of you got me a great amount of attention. NOW though – it’s just not like it use to be.  the hair that use to be between my breasts is completely gone, the armpit and leg hair has thinned out, gotten white, there is a lot less of all of it. my pussy hair is almost all white. more course, and less dense. I then have this ridiculous volume of hair on my face. which most men/women admire for my courage of sporting it. but are not particularly attracted to. that disdain happen when i had hairy legs and armpits — unless one had a fetish for it.  I suppose my current hairy presentation would be like a bald man with a hairy chest or something.  The hair on my head is the longest it’s every been. About a foot now past shoulder length.

a lot of my fans think of me back in the day.

Elder Dating

he was a friend of sorts. we met through craigs list, he hired me to photograph him nude in the woods. something on his bucket list. i needed the money. he was a very accomplished mid seventies male who lost a fortune. He was living within his means while he studied for his real estate license. living within his means meant he had a housekeeper, had a rather dandy vehicle, a 500,000 home, and that he travelled. often. it was immediate that i as a woman was not a fit for him. he liked younger, thin, coifed gals. make up, pushed up tits. laughingly and this really stuck with me. when speaking about dating he said…have you seen what woman look like that are my age? when i thought about it…i got what he meant. although I know handfuls of mid seventy women who are wonderful. they are down to earth and outdoorsy. he was not. he had very odd fantasies about humiliation, and asian girls. he brought one of those circumstances to reality with one of his housekeepers. yikes.

we conversed over a cup of coffee/lunch occasionally. he would spend exactly an hour with me, a VERY busy important man and all. and during that time he would pontificate about things trump, while i patiently tried to give a shit about what he said. i didn’t, at all. i had to really bite my tongue. there were times when he asked me how i was and meant it. i enjoyed making him laugh. and the story telling banter was lively. he told me more than once that my life was fascinating. I think he felt sorry for me. I was the sad, tragic and triumphant sort. I knew that someone like me was not a common person in his portfolio of folks. he collected people that he “knew” people that expanded his people horizons, but in times of certain specific need, like when i asked for help, his self importance really got in the way. he sold his pricey house, made a killing actually, and left the state to be closer to family. aging and all. once, while back in town for business….we had lunch. i was “out” with my facial hair. he was horrified by it. visibly uncomfortable. he said, “well, perhaps you could get it trimmed or something.” he then said, ” you realize that you are no longer a catch for any man.” he was one of two who said how facial hair would be the end of me. I left that hour of time with him feeling hurt. It was easy to justify what he said to who he was. Sometimes folks need to have the sense to keep their opinions to themselves. Most like him don’t. Since that circumstance a few men have crossed my path supposedly interested in me. they too sortof balked. like i’ll do you, but I won’t introduce you to any of my friends.  i am saying this thought. they didn’t so much as say but ….i am not stupid.

I bring this up because at almost 60. when it’s an especially bad day…i can feel pretty geriatric. that can’t be very attractive.

found this dress online. got it for $12. in one way the dress is very me. in another way. it’s an old lady dress. ugh

i felt pretty when i took this picture.

 

 

 

February = Love

had a great day today

a good day is a nice way to start the week

looks like february is going to have lots of plates spinning.

over the weekend i was talking to a lady about earning my living as an artist.

i love that idea.

right now, my art fund will empty with this next installation.

i have a wish list as always.

wanna hear something funny. i only sleep on one side of the bed. to a fault. so when it’s time to change the sheets i just turn everything over to the other side of the bed. is that weird? i can’t help but think it makes the sheets last longer.

i need a set of sheets.

i took this corset set 7 years ago.

the corset never really fit properly

it made for amusement in trying to lace it solo

and for making breasts that were not as low swinging as they are today

all heaving.

is that the word i want?

heaving breasts.

her breasts were heaving??

that doesn’t sound right.

i love the blur of this photo

and remembering myself

much thinner.

i love me inside the frame.

inside the frame of the photograph

its all about finding the love somehow

even if it means mustering it up from memories

february, that love month…

isn’t always lovely for all.

the fishnet unitard was different from others. it’s threads were all cotton. not some synthetic mix. the open weave offered an optical illusion of sorts when worn. i always found it super bizarre that attire like this was so damn warm to wear. it’s barely there, and yet wearing it was always rather uncomfortable.

 

ZERO

a year ago. i brought my cat home from the humane society.

she’s an interesting creature and we’ve come a long way together.

i can’t remember life without her. I took over 600 images of her in 2019.

folks here don’t seem to care much about her.

which is fine.

crazy cat lady is probably not very alluring.

in the beginning, i described having her like looking in the mirror.

she was/is as skiddish as I.

she was supposed to be pet therapy.

instead we had to figure out how to get along.

a lesson one can definitely learn from.

2019 was a high anxiety year for me.

i was looking at images from a year ago and we had a bright sunny january.

not this year. way way more wintery. bleak. dim, as a good friend of mine says.

i don’t mind the dim. i am lucky that way. i love being at home.

at this time of year my envelopes are almost all empty.

ZERO.

this makes me anxious.

there are many ways to manage a financial  life.

i function penny to penny.

month to month.

when there is something extra.

like from the sale of art.

or a gift.

my policy. or the way i manage is

that cash goes into envelopes.

my larger bills all land around this time of year.

the vet visit, the car tag, an oil change, the dentist, the fees for my websites, holiday mailing, cat supplies etc…

THIS year, for the first time in quite awhile the envelopes were full. fat. and ready

I now have to rebuild them again for next year

but for the sake of personal satisfaction

and pride.

firstly…I DID IT.

and secondly.

i can do it again.

a good feeling.

My art opening in Chicago is tonight. Perhaps I will sell that photograph???

THANK YOU to those of you who send me something from time to time.

where does the love go.

this is a rather random commentary.  it may be how 2020 blog posts go as i really have no direction at the moment. 

I ran into a former person that i once knew on twitter.

i don’t hang at twitter exactly but i have auto feeds there and i forget.

i went there because i  wondered if i c/should develop a feed for my alter ego artist self there. i don’t want things alter ego to mesh with my me world. i am sure that i am naive to think that they don’t already mesh but…

the twitter person mentioned dumped me and a project we had steeped in for a year because of my facial hair and beard.

“the project is over. i want nothing to do with you – don’t expect anyone to take you seriously with that hair on your face.” 

ouch

this was written via an email on christmas after generously gifting me two bags of food just earlier in the day.

more ouch.

never heard from the person again. POOF.

this person was a serious fan of my writing and my photography since 2007. a HUGE, encouraging, absolutely adoring fan. we met for the first time in 2015. 

I won’t go into ALL the details of the year we worked together. I will say this… that person took me on like a pet, a poor/struggling pet who “needed”  help. that persons truth. not mine. someone who takes on a person as philanthropic good. I can bypass someone thinking less of me when there is a creative opportunity at hand. I also am willing to give a new friendship a try but i am also adult enough to know that folks who are new to my life may not become my next best friend — that’s how I felt about the circumstance. as time went on. this person had some serious issues. my largest complaint was how this person treated people that were supposed to be family. life partners. I never witnessed someone so verbally critical and cruel. like wince material. the spouse would cower. the spouse would hide. not kidding. add a drinking problem to all of that.

“we need to stop working now. i need to drink.”

I scroll this persons twitter feed.  IT WAS UGLY. Political and .fanatic zeal at a very high pitch. evangelical almost. stuff that that would make anyone run. How can such drama and rant beget any respect or credibility? all it did for me is have me shake my head. 

and then, i thought. where does the love go.

and then, i started to think of all the folks who have dumped me.

and then, more thoughts  …where does the love go. 

of course i then found myself upset

i have two marriages behind me. lost mr’s, the lying/dumping of mr cowboy and folks in recent years. perhaps thats true for most. as they say people come and go in our lives. in my family folks left as early as age 5.

do i feel love for them? those gone?

i do not. 

i recall the beginnings of all that love. all of it

i know exactly when the love for them left my heart.

the thing is with so many

i don’t know WHY the love left THEIR hearts.

I feel hurt. 

I know in my past i have tried when i can to find closure

why isn’t closure important to others?

earlier this year i read a book. 

i am pretty sure i wrote about it. 

the book i read was about depression.

not a topic i read about regularly. 

not that i am not curious but with times of anxiety at the tip of my tongue sometimes

it’s not what i feel a wondering about.

this book shifted that for me. it made my troubles seem insignificant by comparison.

this person is clinically depressed, medicated and wants to die. she made fun of this desire to die with such ease that the deep deep despair was actually very funny. she made me laugh. the book was fascinating and alarming. this person is a real handful. imagine celebrity status. imagine a book that makes a difference for many, profoundly actually. impressive, and important. depression is so real for so many.  The book launch passes by. life continues to happens and this person shares it and all the details on social media. the content is nuts. off the wall crazy. i think to myself, wow this person is a total nutcase and people love her. epic, complicated, hurtful, train wreck lunatic, and there is this entourage of people around her. always. they love her.

so then i wonder where does the love go. for me. 

and then, i feel sorry for myself. and start wondering if i could have done something differently.  that’s a pretty one sided conversation. where does the love go. where does the like go. where do people go when they leave, do they ever wonder how i am ????? does it matter that i wonder about them?

image taken eleven years ago.