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

men

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

 

 

 

Out Of Order

out of order.

yup.

that’s me.

a lot of things feel like that.

lately.

seriously out of order.

this was the dating post i was supposed to share next.

at least in the sequential order of things.

in the trying to make sense of things

order.

i don’t know what your single dating life is like.

but prior to mr cowboy

my dating life was full of some pretty odd shit.

shit that stories are made up of

stories that my friends say

wow this is book material

this is some crazy shit.

i might try and tell that story someday

i just am not sure who would want to read it.

anyway THIS date.

was one for the story books.

some men do quite a lot of work upfront to make their interests in you

seem believable.

where in reality they just want one thing.

i call that upfront stuff –

get the date best behavior.

they are all charming at first

curious, interested, polite,

whatever.

this one started one way

ended very differently.

I felt very vulnerable

very raw

and very stupid.

in times of trouble,

i try and honestly look at myself and say ok

what did I bring to this occasion??

takes two right??

loneliness can be a very desperate space.

desperate.

how’s that for responsibility??

my take on dating

at that time

was try them on.

play.

don’t decide too quickly

have room for not having it be perfect

not all people are as they initially appear.

lighten up darling.

the web however

gives room for all kinds of deplorable behavior.

it was after this date

that i said WHAT the F am I DOING?

i rewrote my entire profile for dating

it’s really long

epic really.

loaded w/details

about what i want.

ME

for ME

i need

i want.

my detailed profile became my screening tool.

if someone didn’t like how wordy it was…

they were probably not a fit for me.

why

cuz i am a gabber  …

and i said no

no

no

you are not a fit for me because

sure lets discuss

but because of this screening

i deployed 4

despicable scenarios

and i thought

ya know??

this having it be about me could actually work for me.

and then mr cowboy emailed an inquiry.

9 months later.

NICE.

do you have any idea what a relief it’s been not to have to do the dating game these last months???

 

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