A Tone Of Sorts

gee, 5 years already.

today marks an anniversary

i got dumped on this day.

such a mix of i really knew better and this isn’t working reality

but shit, i so didn’t have a plan.

just weeks prior

these images were taken.

i don’t know how these happened


he was not easy to work with in this way.

participating within my creative ideas and all.

these are a vibrant set of images

that i really love.

perhaps he was enjoying himself too?

the tone of them is immediate.

as circumstances go it was a long weekend

my standing in the doorway shirtless would otherwise have not have been a thing to do.


for fun, or to honor said five years – i removed him, leaving just his hand.

a ceremony of sorts.

creative ceremony

with a bit of fuck you on the side.

felt demonstrative to do that.

i like them even more.

in things pandemic

these images sure resonate with the word TOUCH


the lack of.

or in my case, the lack of.

since leaving him. 

forever ago.

i feel like screaming TOUCH ME from the roof tops.

an ache that is rattling inside me.

i know you feel that too.

i sometimes feel the weight of all of us missing normalcy.

as days go today

i am in a mood of sorts

distracted to derailed


i can’t remember the third “d” word.

angry. annoyed.

the top image with the doorknob is my very favorite.





And You Thought You Had A Plan

if only i had a plan.

perhaps at some point in time i had one.


no plan.

a part of me

is rather ok with that.

i know a lot of people.

i don’t say that to be boasty.

or to even begin to think that i am popular.

i am not.

i say that because i began collecting and observing others very young

over time, i saw things, observed things, noticed ….things.

lots of folks think they have it all planned out

straight path

straight arrow

point a to point b


do this and this will follow.

my gal friend just paid off her burial spot.

if you knew her, you would feel as endeared by that as I

another couple i know were very prepared for retirement

actually they are probably the only couple I know

who got it right.

created and implemented THE plan for and lived a cushy no worry retirement.

this my dear she said is what you work for.

but for most that i know. truthfully

it doesn’t look like that at all.

and for some on the other side of all that planned living?

like elder/retirement years?

it’s not what they thought it would be.

even if they did all the right things.

they are miserable

and that just makes me sad.

perhaps traditional planning is a croc of shit.

i mean this year?  who could have ever planned for a year like 2020?

are you a news addict?

are you a junkie for being in the know?

sometimes i wonder if one took the time one wasted watching, reading and listening to the news — how much time that would actually be?

news is a drama filled spoon of bullshit fed to the masses

it’s calculated bullshit

folks eat it up.

and what do you really know ?

the truth?

that your weather man wears a tutu?

that the anchor woman got a new push up bra?

when news is real, and needs to be shared.

does telling the same thing. rinse and repeat

move the reality of that news story forward?

for air time?

for likes,

and readership?

why i am lumping a plan and the news into the same pondering is beyond me.

in current times




and voices vying to be heard.


of it

has me on edge.

it has me question everything

i even feel defensive.

IF i don’t rally with pink ribbons, rainbow socks, and fists of black and white

does that make me any less of a person?

if the judgement day finds me

and says I am less.

who do they – those who judge, who the f do they think that they are?

is that bullying?

I am left with such a sorting.

WHO am I in the matter

and why?

I think the idea of a having plan is what sparked this thought process.

History didn’t have a plan. 

as you and i spend time together.

we too are making history.

even if we have NO idea what we are doing.


what’s that about?





I’m Still Here

so my cat’s newest antics in the morning to awake me is getting her claw stuck in the tin mirror i have hanging near my bed. it’s not her mission to get stuck, more so the sound her paw makes on it is fun sounding, and to her that’s a way of communicating. i need lessons in cat speak perhaps.

i’m still here. hello. i’m here!!

i had a dream a few nights ago. when i think of this dream it STILL makes me laugh. out loud. all by myself. to tears. roaring with laughter. last night i thought about this dream and ended up sobbing. is the dream a vehicle to remind me of laughter. the tears of joy?? Or should i be troubled by the ridiculousness of the dream.

or am i simply miserable?

i’m still here. hello. i’m here!!

over the decade that i’ve been writing here. few will reach out to me and tell me that they “read me” from blog post to blog post. from the beginning to the current. in one sitting. in one anonymously nude sitting. wow. each time i hear this i feel amazed. remember i thanked someone for being at my blog last week? the high traffic? someone had sat up the entire night. reading me. wow.

one man, long ago, was in an italian coffee shop. he said, there he was in public enjoying this delicious secret. he then went home to his wife. and he told me about her. and his unhappiness of their marriage. i never quite know what to say. thank you? thank you for reading my work. Thank you for enjoying my photography  i don’t usually hear from these men again. they just want me to know that they spent time with me. which is of course rather wonderful.

what I wish is a deeper sense of their experience. i was here isn’t enough. it’s not that the person isn’t enough. i just wish that I WAS MORE.

I’m still here. hello. I’m here!!

the longer things pandemic keep us isolated. the more my personal reality looks me in the face. i never counted the days that i’ve stayed at home before. ( i was last in my car 15 days ago ) 

the truth is, thats rather normal for me. i can do blur of time really well.

it’s what comes with the pandemic mind that I am having trouble with.

i know i do not feel this alone.

this is all a real mind fuck.

an article is circulating. don’t get me started about the stupidity of the press – – it’s about the insensitivity of asking “how are you?”

are you kidding?

the article pissed me off. like fuck you pissed me off.

do not diminish my caring inquiry. do not turn caring and asking into some better politically correct bullshit you should say it this way language. no no no.

I’m here. hello. I’m still here.

Lately, I’ve been turning old nude images of me into art.

i feel rather delighted and proud of them.

and then, i talk myself out of sharing them because

i decide that noone gives a shit.

they don’t want to see my art

they want to see my ass.

i remind myself that i make art not for you

but for me.

but i wish that my art was cherished.

or more so, that i was cherished.

with things pandemic, things art feel like a big thumb squishing my creative mind into the woodwork.

i’m here, hello, I’m still here.

my intimate times with myself are less and less.

and my photographing things intimate

are even less.

but then a moment finds me.

a moment spired usually by some stranger being kind.

and i feel attended to …

for a second.

i’m here. hello. I’m still here.

out of that, my creativity is affirmed.

images like these

which are very me

and very creative

are just a moment in time.

that i give away.

that slips away into internet heaven.

i’m left with

many many strangers


and women who

perhaps have a moment of joy.

i should feel satisfied somehow.

i don’t.

this triggers stuff.

emotional stuff.

because that’s what it all is.

one big ball of way too much.

I’m still here. hello. I am here





someone spent some time here today. thank you. no comment so, i have no idea who you are just a rather high stat for the weekend.

ran across this recliner image the other day.

it’s NOT the green chair.

this was a free chair – delivered to me. 4 years ago.

it’s since seen better days.

i spend a lot of time in this chair.

while this image sat on my desktop and before i got to writing this post

i thought i’d try and get some self shots in said chair

but with she who chases feet and makes me bleed

under foot all day and night.


photography has to be done when she’s asleep.

by then i’m doing something else

because that’s what these days blurred all together are like.

at least spring is very beautiful.


And Now April Is Gone Too


i asked you how you are. things pandemic and all.

i meant what i asked.

how are you?

i can’t believe it’s april

i lost january to 27 days of the crud.

who knows, that could have been the virus for all we really know.

lost february to catching up.

it’s a new year after all.

lost march in a big way. all things cancelled.

i can’t believe how many i know who are without work

now april is gone too.

I am OK.

i made a LOT of art.

with much more to make

this fills my time and keeps my mind at ease.

this week, as distracting as this thing killing way too many people is

i went from distracted to derailed.

started on monday

i just have this inkling of panic

on the edge of boiling over.

grocery shopping being one of the triggers.

it’s hard to get a distance on ones self here in the city studio

everyone hair flips during things pandemic


( i broke my comb that day. cheap shit of a comb. i had given my brush to my son. needless to say i am now using the wonder brush. it’s called the wet brush. it’s rather wondrous – who the F knew ) 

french braid selfie anyone?

were those the panties i wore the last time i panty self captured.

say nice things to me next time you write please.


Do I Ever Wonder?

do you ever wonder how many cocks have been smacked around to your blog photos?”

hmmmmmmm what a question.

am I here on purpose to provide visuals for men to masturbate to?


What started one way naively became something else.

Happy accident I guess.

if you are a cock smacker when here, then lucky you.

I get that there is over a decade of anonymously nude images that perhaps imply something of a sexual nature.

i am not by any means a heavily trafficked feed at Flickr. I do find some of my stats interesting though

my feed has had 18 MILLLION views

my most popular post has had

71, 549 views


and 104 comments.

is that good?

does that  mean there is lots of cock smacking on flickr??

i have a 52 page word document of praise 52 pages!!! and some of that praise includes declarations of cock smacking.

perhaps all of that is flattering somehow.

i ask this…

what do i do with that all that oooh baby sex talk, the often vulgar adoration, those super gross tributes and dick pictures?

because none of that does a thing for me. sexually anyway.

what do other almost 60 year old women that you know do?

I am not complaining

i am not explaining

i guess i am simply commenting on the question asked

( taken in 2010 i believe – they are a tad dark. pre-lightroom. couch surfing dream couch, so folks said. i have been thinking about and missing a couch. ) 




there is something rather wonderful about being chosen.

200 artists submitted. each were allowed 8 submissions. I sent along 3. I just found out that one of them was selected by the jury. I am in the show. I am in the show!!

i notched up my printing decision on this piece. I chose a small shop local printer that I know will honor my privacy.  I am trying on an art paper that I’ve been curious about.

the price to print went up $6 higher than her original quote.  it’s pricy!

this happened yesterday with another show i am in and a matt quote. I had to pay $9 more. I sortof feel they should honor the former price quote.

I admire those in business for themselves offering specialty services.

It feels good to give them some of my business.

i am just horrified at how much it costs.

The final and MOST amazing layer to all of this is that I had a patron fund this project.

when you take the cost of the print, the frame and matt, and shipping. both ways

plus a gallery take if sold of 50%

it’s hard to really say that a sale is lucrative.

but thanks to the patron’s help.

IF I sell this. the profits will be mine.

I sold once before with this gallery.

which felt amazing.


here is the piece they chose.

I submitted this as my alter ego.

Opportunities to show nudity don’t come my way that often

but building up my K Smith artist name will be fun!

Just as a side. I am in day 15 of sick. 


Kindness And Flickr

My pro fee for flickr was paid for again this year. the gift was from the very same generous giftee from a year past. last year he additionally found me a used yet brand new replacement camera for my canon s90. my camera of choice. wow. right?? That was pretty amazing. 

In the mail are some funds to assist me with shipping fees for a show I HOPE I am accepted into from the same patron. I find out mid-january. 

What tremendous kindness!

Gestures like this really really help me. They nurture the creative in me. They gift me a sense of freedom around the costs of things in my life. Many of which most take for granted. Gifts like this make me feel understood.

Many know that I stretch and eek my way to my almighty dollar. i live on very little

how I manage baffles most.


What I wanted to write about is WHY FLICKR.

my commentary is nothing profound. simply. i really love flickr and am glad that I can be there.

founded in 2004, Flickr attracted a certain crowd in it’s beginnings.

much like any of these social media platforms

it was pretty exciting early on.

i was into the blogosphere in it’s early days. 2005 is when i began to explore it’s value for my work.

I found FB very creepy in 2007. and left it for 2 years after being maliciously stalked.

When I moved to a new community. FB was the way to do things. Much like how the www became a given thing.  If I was going to be part of that community I needed to get back on FB. I eventually grew very fond of FB.

With this blog I applied my knowledge of social media pointing strategies or what i call circles of influence and began using Flickr to drive traffic here. to my blog

i still believe that this space is something I can call my own. a personal expression vs a social media expression.

after giving it some thought, many of those who know me here

were first directed to me because of flickr.

that says something.

I love the ease of use of flickr.

i love the visual/user experience of flickr

i like that flickr counts things

i have one image on flickr that has almost 70,000 views.

that sortof blows me away.

folks are more apt to comment on flickr vs a blog.

the community of sorts has an immediate feeling/interactivity to it

many engage faithfully. for that i am grateful.

i have collected imagery from around the world that inspires me, that gifts me pause and beauty. I really appreciate being able to do that on flickr

recently the new CEO wrote and shared that Flickr is struggling financially.

it made me wonder what i’d do without it.

i began poking around.

i am but a very very small fish in the flickr pond.

i am a nobody.

when i see how some are using flickr at a very high pitch

with very very high volume of images posted

and so so so much traffic

it makes me think…wow.

and they pay the same fee as I do??

if FB and Instagram can do it for free/without fees

whats different about Flickr?

and for those who use Flickr in high volume?

why ??

image storage? isn’t that super risky??

or is it strategic, like the way I utilize Flickr??

what about all the rif raf? all the raunch and smut?

what i like to call bottom feeders.

what about them?

I don’t have the answers

and i probably have a very narrow/small and perhaps naive perspective


BUT while I have Flickr. I am very glad.

Took these images the other day.

happy red panty days.

the black and whites are gritty.

my hair is the longest it’s ever been in my entire life

have no idea how i got the first two color shots.

happy accidents as they say

and happy holidays.









Best Of 2019

if you recall i do this annually,  this collect the best thing.

I began in 2012

7 years of bests.

doing it differently this year

fans gave quite a few of these a strong response

but perhaps deciding the best

is a different story.

care to chime in?

which are your favorite and why.

i figure two from each category should do it.

plus one for a cover of sorts

as if it were a calendar.

noone has ever bought a calendar

noone buys my nude images either.


perhaps there is no point

except to see the year in review.

for a year that i didn’t feel particularly sexy/attractive

i love many of these.

the artist part of me is strident.

perhaps that’s the point.

there are 35 images. i uploaded all into a gallery style. click the first image and you can view and arrow forward.  i forgot to watermark these. dammit.

12 rows. 1-2-3, per row. except the last row.

what speaks to you and why??

the categories are: 








December 2019

i’ve been reviewing my year past. i do this annually.  I have done so since… gosh, the early 90’s??  i have some deeper dives to do still. i took on some things differently this year and i think i am still too close to them.

this blog is one of them.

or how i blog here.

a few of you tried to get to know me a bit better this past year and while i am grateful, not one circumstance has manifested into something valid. like a reliable friend. a gal like myself could use a friend. someone actually available

not sure the random way of contact really works for me.

a month ago someone wrote: 

“I’ll reply as quickly as I see your responses”

haven’t heard from him.

he’s not an online person, so perhaps he has not “seen” what i wrote a month ago.

promptly, and in polite response to him.

he also wrote he has to be in the mood to reply. what the f does that mean??

he reads these posts, i think, so perhaps he’ll now write.

he wants me to trust him. he says.

he has been a fan for a very long while.

I can’t even get to know him.

the long wait in between communications is contrary to what he says.

i sortof don’t get it.

whats going on here??

i wonder if I was the gal next door would it be the same?

probably a stupid question.

another very long term devoted fan was also more communicative with me, and offered less cryptic replies. i had put him in his place more than once. he specifically asked for another chance at communicating. I gave it. I got vulnerable with him and then, much like his pattern prior he disappeared. he’s someone who could be a connection for me for something I need in the realm of my computer. I like the idea of knowing someone like that. but ….its not easy to ask for help with someone you can’t trust to even offer a consistent banter. i one is going to disappear then say so.

a former “mr” liked one of my posts on flickr. in asking how he is – he replied, “miserable” I know him well enough to perhaps fill in the blanks, but i did reach out to ask how he was doing. no reply. whatever. why reply with “miserable” in the first place, if you don’t want to discuss it.

another fan who has been kind, inquisitive and emotionally attentive has stopped writing. i don’t blame him, i’ve been a real downer this year. perhaps that’s a burden to another. early in my blogging days I was more relaxed. i am not that person anymore. don’t ask me to be.

the list goes on, i feel like i am either complaining. or hard to satisfy, or unreasonable. or i feel like this blog is my personal space and i owe none of these men. most of which are married a single thing. this leaves me confused about why i am here.

that is the question out there regarding my work here.

i will leave it as that.

i found this gem of a black and white during another image search.

yes, its the green chair.

taken at my house.

maybe i will render this one.

i can’t sit on my feet like this anymore.