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.

 

A Year Older And Wiser

i am a year older today.

someone complimented something that i wrote earlier today. i wrote about how it was 4 years ago that i moved. my 3200 mile solo quest elsewhere. i remember how i just went for this idea. trusting somehow that i would make it.

this person said ….

“you have such a hold on who you are ….you must know yourself well.”

perhaps 59 is more of a gift than I know.

took myself and a photography friend on an autumn country road trek yesterday

and i got myself a very unusual and very pretty oval blue and white platter.

i asked for things linen.

sheets have holes in them

towels are frayed.

not sure any of that will happen

it’s going to be a tough week.

i did not meet my work quota. gulp.

while i am allowed a grace month

its the only one for this year

i still take a kick in the teeth income wise

i have a lot of ick on my schedule.

including a medical procedure.

weather looks awful.

it’s going to be a long month ahead.

maybe i’ll get myself a piece of cake.

took this the other day

i love it.

laundry did not get done

and i didn’t make the bed either

hate the way a bed looks when it’s occupied solo.

its so. one sided.

but look. that’s me, my hair is flying and the shadows are cool

and i am NUDE

 

 

In Case You Thought I Was Weird

this happened 12 years ago.

the entity came to me in the middle of the night.

it did not ask permission to touch me.

but it did.

the entity took.

in essence it was like rape.

however giving and adoring,

it took and

it left me shaken.

shaken i tell you.

there is a part of me that says it was a dream.

i dream vividly. and often. i remember my dreams

but a part of me that knows the physical potential of an entity

and thinks perhaps this was a spiritual lover.

weird. i know

but if you have known of entities before ….

not so weird.

the details are extremely sexual.

arousing, physically palpable, the attention left me breathless.

imagine that you are asleep.

you are awakened by kisses and gentle caresses

still in a sleep daze

the attention becomes more sexual

finger probing

oral

sexual and very pleasuring.

except noone is physically there.

your imagination can not fill in the blanks that have left you

remarkably aroused,

i would then awake, breathless with my legs splayed open

hungry

it happened over and over

for months.

it got to the point where i said

no.

i said, i don’t know who you are

you do not have my permission

to touch me.

i do not want you to do this.

it scared me.

to frame where my heart and mind were at the time.

my nest was about to be empty.

financially I was going to hit a brick wall

i had lost use of my right hand

my adrenals were fatigued.

this fatigue showed up

in my body.

physical manifestation of…

i was completely falling apart

my second marriage was ending.

betrayal in many many forms are what ended it.

i was the victim of maliciousness.

sociopathic.

i felt embarrassed by its failing. he fooled many. so so many. i was a fool

i felt mortified about being single again

i did not believe that i was of value

as a person

or as a woman

i felt a loss in my life

like a grief so crushing

that i lost a good portion of time

to tears.

and an inability to cope.

at the time i lived in a magical attic apartment of a queen anne victorian home

the energy in the space was kind.

visually magical.

crooked in a vintage way that pleased me.

like syrup on a plate of pancakes would pool on one side of the plate crooked.

i loved that apt.

that place was also a transition place

for all the things mentioned above.

this was two years before i bought my first home.

many many things to get to the other side of at that time

this was the year i lost 100lbs.

my nude photography began here,

in therapy, i did not have to defend the reality of this creature who touched me

i did not have to justify

i did not have to explain

i did have to be real though

about how violated i felt.

and,

that the patterns of my life

include many many who TAKE.

my therapist suggested that i shift the taking feeling

to one of adoring.

that i was attractive

and adored.

fair.

and so.

i affirmed my …me, myself and I

as beautiful.

a self worth practice

that I have instilled ever since.

i am affirmed of that beauty

by adoring fans here.

even if who i was 12 years ago

is different.

very different then who i am now.

and even if my self confidence is low.

these are not the best images.

i was just figuring out this little digital camera

which later,

if you recall. i dropped

and it died.

now, the light in this place would have offered some magic for self captures.

a good portion of these belongings are now long gone. sold. memories.

my breasts don’t look like this anymore either. this was my very first nude capture.

what a memory.

 

 

 

 

Flower Power

I dreamt last night that a flower and succulents were growing in my groin.

( how’s that for an opening sentence?)

there was a single flower, short stemmed with a blue crocus like blossom – it’s center was yellow and button like. it’s petals fat and juicy, much  like that of an engorged jade. it looked like a pussy.

next to the flower there a large cluster of pure white plants. each had three small leaves. unlike most succulents they were soft to the touch. almost mossy.

all of this was nestled in the spread of my legs. specifically, in the crease on my right side

WTF

the examination room was huge. pure white. gleaming, with tile floor to ceiling. the room was brightly lit. i was drenched in white light. they guided me to an oversized rocking chair. the doctor, garbed in all white adorned a lamp of sorts on its head. all I could see was the Dr’s eyes.

i showed the Dr my flower power

armed with oversized tweezers, the removal of the flower revealed very short roots.

the succulent removal was trickier. the individual  leaves would pop and their juice would burn me.

the dr was very careful.

once all was removed

my wounds were treated.

at one point i thought the Dr might have been my mother.

but there was no vibe of judgement.

later, i saw that the Dr was a man.

with a mustache and a warm smile.

noone spoke.

( take in 2011. when i had way more hair )

 

 

Annual Entitlement

i celebrate another year older in a few weeks. 

it’s the one time of year where I want to be celebrated. it’s the one time a year where i want the attention. the sortof attention that it’s all about ME. it’s the one day that i want to know, like really really know, that my being born matters. i gave up a very very long time ago that my birthday is going to be some planned momentous occasion. planned by another anyway. I make my own way in the hey it’s my day lets celebrate department.

the entitled part of me has a wish list. i always do this. you know the drill.  it’s a list of items where later I can say. oh such and such gave me that for my bday. it’s about having something treasured that reminds me.  my being born matters 

folks are funny about being celebrated. some don’t want an ounce of hoopla.  i say nonsense to that. it matters that you were born.

others i know expect a month long celebration. and they get it!! ha!! how do they do that?

in today’s day i have no expectations except a small practical suggestion i sent to my kids. because that’s the other part of me. i am pretty pragmatic.

next year i turn 60 on my birth year 1960.

part of me thinks. gosh perhaps thats a year to plan something.

what would i plan?

i have NO idea.

i had an invite this year for a road trip

a gal i know moved in with her man.

i would like to meet him.

investigating it further

the drama was going to be too much.

my ability to roll with drama lately is nill.

i also had to put a car repair before a road trip

but, this repair puts the annoying front brake sound to rest.

and perhaps i will go a year without car repair drama

i like that idea. i like that idea a lot

the year i met mr cowboy, our first date was around my birthday.

he did all the right things, truth be

maybe i am just a pushover.

the day one is born matters. 

just like quite a few of you here

over the years

have gone out of your way

for my birthday.

thank you for that.

today is the day of the week i do art all day, i wrote a summation of what i plan to make in the upcoming year. it took me a better part of the day to make sense of it all –  this is a new strategy for me. i am not quite at the place to see this past year in my rear view mirror. it was a good year that way. a different year but a good one but, i hit a stuck place recently because of some pretty serious overwhelm. i stopped all. i went internal and I did some thinking. and today. all that thinking came together and made sense. i am feeling rather inspired. inspired by me. who knew

 

 

 

When We Meet

lets see if any of you read this

recent posts have offered a variety of talking points

conversations aren’t happening.

whatever happened to conversations?

a certain someone needs to be heard.

sometimes fans reach out to me and get personal.

they then imply that we will meet.

in theory. why not meet?

i’ve met a few of you over this last decade.

in hindsight, not sure i should have…

further commentary on that …complicated. my part of it included.

the flurry of meeting was lovely. romantic. and indulgent.

friendship sustainable?

no.

the truth is most men are really not in a position to make a meet happen.

or more importantly they can not sustain a meet once it’s occurred

reasons for that lack of ready might include: uh – married, so so very many of you are married, financially not able – since meeting is at your expense, or the real reason: lack of intention.

this lack of intention i further describe as placating

as telling or saying what one thinks i want to hear.

men will say anything to have sex with me.

am I being arrogant in saying this??

or can the truth of it resonate?

men say to themselves. “give me some of that” 

i fall sometimes for the idea of meeting.

of having the attention i deserve

the feeling of cherish

the excitement of it all.

vs the reality.

the reality is something very different.

i am thinking at the moment of this writing of one very particular man.

i liked his appearance.

i liked his mind.

i liked how he paid attention to me.

he got me.

he knew which buttons to push.

he was sexy and he knew it.

simply.

i wanted to meet him.

he said he wanted to meet me.

In the throws of it all

my MIND met him in a variety of circumstances.

the fantasy of which

was delightful in one breath.

and, not so delightful in another.

i felt frustrated by what i couldn’t have.

i can’t go into a fantasy without visual appeal

can you??

i have taken up with a man or two and didn’t give their appearance much thought.

they were kind, and attentive to me.

they wanted to meet me.

i want folks to try me on.

i feel we should give others a chance.

they were very disappointed when I wasn’t attracted upon meeting them.

which felt pretty awful for both of us.

now, i think it’s of value to have a vetting process.

my fans say that they are very attracted to me.

even without my sharing my face.

you tell me that my images provoke.

men say they fantasize about me all the time

men imagine themselves with me

within my photography.

which i appreciate hearing actually

rather powerful.

or they tell me that my images are fodder for masturbation.

SIGH

 ( none of you use fodder and masturbation in the same sentence.  ) 

it’s to be expected i guess. after all i am nude. online!!

for me in reverse so to speak, it’s not your dick/cock that i want to be a part of.

( if i had a dollar for all the men that send me images of their anatomy. i’d have no financial problems )

UGH. please don’t do that.

again, do not send me images of your anatomy.

your hard whatever is the last thing I want to see.

i want to see YOU. your eyes, your lips, your hands. a beard and mustache if you have one…the shoes you are wearing.

show me something that that i can be drawn to

and then it’s your mind that i fall for.

how you GET me.

how you treat me.

what you are curious about.

how you desire me.

and then it’s WHO you are in the world.

are you up to something or are you bored and apathetic?

often the above goes to a sexual place.

makes sense when all the pieces are there.

i can’t really do the sex thing all by itself these days.

not like i use to.

it’s not enough

sex is not enough.

i ache

ACHE

for connection

a connection that cares.

or a connection that can sustain a care.

Fans care.

in their own way.

how they act on it is…

well, it’s what it is.

or isn’t. mostly.

i’ve said fleeting many times here.

men come and go.

whhhhooosh they are in touch, enthusiastically.

and then poof. they are gone. as quickly as they reached out to me.

most simply don’t have time for me.

or the energy.

or the reality.

most are not looking for something personal

they want something distracting. entertaining. immediate

they are hungry in their own way.

a meet. a real one?? shifts things.

a meet makes it real.

or if when we meet and it is in our minds

its a fantasy.

The plane was delayed. The airport was bustling. Around me the mix of people swarmed accordingly. some coming, some going. many arriving, more just getting to the next place. a blur. Airports are probably my most favorite people watching place. It’s how I survive the waiting. I make up stories about the folks before me. I began people watch story making as a young girl. I spent way too much time in airports. There goes mr and mrs green. here comes sir tall, flower dress lady has too much makeup on. oh, look…those two are kissing again. how lovely they are. i’ve never written my narrative down in the midst of a wait. perhaps i should sometime. i have had a banter with another or two where we narrate together. mr tall is nervous i say, the other then says, the battery on his phone died.  he’s sweating i say, he needs another coffee the other adds. And so it goes. 

I am meeting a stranger at the airport today. a handsome stranger. and I am very nervous. I told him to be in the moment when we meet. To pocket his cell phone and let the meet be. I don’t need to know you are getting off the plane. I will be there to meet you. Just know that I am waiting. I find the management of a phone and travel frustrating. I get that they can be useful. I completely get that. I just find them distracting. Folks forget to simply be. The plane will land. You will get off the plane and I will be there to meet you. I am a person of my word. 

90 minutes later the arrival is announced. He is here. Oh my gosh he is here!  I position myself out of the way, but stand in a place where I hope to be the first person you see once you walk into the arrival area. One by one others arrive. Delays make many anxious. Connections are now altered.

I see you first. Sauntering, casual, tossled hair…you are good looking. I like that. you look for me. I like that too. Our eyes meet. You stop. We grin as wide as grins can be. A pause in time. A moment for sure. You step up your pace. I feel a blush coming on as you near. You notice. and you say, oh my gosh you are blushing! I say, I am!! I then say HI there! You say HI. Your eyes are bright and warm. Inviting. Your right hand reaches for the hair at the base of my neck, you are taller then i expected, you smell of gum. and you pull me to you. you whisper in my ear. you are beautiful, you say. you are so beautiful. you’ve taken my breath away. You see me struggling as to what to say next. you kiss me. gently. lip to lip. touch. want, curious. i feel all of you near me, the kiss finds its way to hungry. Our lips are a good fit. I tremble. You say, wow. I grin. you grin back. we hold on to each other.

in my fantasy, i replay the kiss over and over and over.  in my collection of fantasies, there are lots of kisses. in my memory of real meets, those kisses get replayed in my mind as well.   

what a goof i am. what a hopeless romantic.

some kisses don’t make the instant replay. those kisses are not memorable. i hate that. some men are very good at replicating that first kiss. it’s like they get that a first kiss is worth repeating. i once met a man, older than I who had never kissed someone before. i was an eager lover back then. he said are all women this enthusiastic about kissing. I said, i have no idea. you tell me. this is when i found out he was a virgin. many years later he will tell me. a man always remembers their first time. You were that first for everything for me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Fine Lines Of Fandom

i just took the best vacation.

i had no idea how much i needed it.

seriously.

i got to a place of nothing

a zone of relax

a chill to the ninth degree.

i stretched it out as long as I possibly could.

i got to the i deserve this place too.

which felt grand.

BUT

today is my first day back to reality.

my writing this afternoon.

is a space/place away from the to-do list

which is rather long.

but long in a good way.

like due course long.

i am beginning to realize how i craft my life.

and how great it can be,

when i craft things with what’s best for me in mind.

not trying to be preachy

i just feel some clarity.

perhaps that’s what vacations provide.

my son, an avid cyclist said recently, just because someone rides a bike doesn’t mean we are friends.  it does mean that we have something in common. and that’s a great place to start. I liked that perspective

i say to new people in my life/life. my real life.  I am happy to try someone on. i love meeting new people. However I am going to be quick to acknowledge that if it isn’t a good fit. I will probably move on. i have way too little emotional energy to be with something that isn’t working for me. i also tell them it’s me defining the fine lines. that it’s often not them. i am complicated. and still rather fragile. i know of some people who want to be closer to me. I can’t do that any longer with just anyone

as fleeting, ghosting, judging and stupid as people can be. or have been. i gotta say figure out the fine lines

there ARE the good ones. true to self folks shine. i want and need shiny. i want light. i want effortless. and when i am around effortless. it’s a breath of fresh air

i say all of this because over the last few months now over a handful of you  have shared an opinion. this opinion sharing feels like the crossing of a very fine line.

I went with the first commentary. i let it roll off my emotional shoulder

i did not feel judged.

i heard the thought.

i let it go

but then another shared their thoughts, and another, and another

and now …i feel a tad bombarded by unwanted opinions.

the opinion is about the hair on my face.

you are all entitled to your thoughts about the topic

i also get that i am in an open public place about it

a virtual space

but realize this.  if i am a person now with hair on her face.

this is who i am. it’s sortof not negotiable.

it’s like if a man goes bald.

he’s now bald.

i bet that it is highly unlikely that there is a single woman in your immediate circle of influence who has a face like mine. how much do you want to bet?

and if there is, i applaud that woman. and I applaud you. especially  if you intermingle socially with that person, and/ or if you share her with your other spheres of …people.

ya see, it’s one thing to know me, to say way to go lady, to think that it takes such courage to be me. but more often than not, i am not going to be included at family dinner.

this is happening folks. this is my reality.

this is the way it is for me.

so….get with the program

for some

this face of mine

is embarrassing.

when a man that you know goes bald do you tell that dude

i don’t like your shiny head?

do you say yeah your baldness isn’t doing it for me.

because some are saying that.

about my face.

it’s fucking rude when you get right down to it.

i get opinions

i get opinionated

i get having a point  of view

i get free speech

i also get grace.

have some grace for fuck sake

have some empathy

try my circumstance on sometime and see how it FEELS.

are you on my shit list because you shared this opinion of yours?

NO.

it does make me wonder what you were thinking.

outside of your distaste for the appearance of my face and all.

it certainly does not attract me to you

it does not have me trust the nature of our communications as nurturing, compassionate, kind and supportive.

perhaps some thoughts are better left unsaid.

the reality of all of this is many of us have known each other a very long time

a decade long time

you and i hanging out in real life??

highly unlikely.

so i am i am never going to embarrass you.

put your vote so to speak where it matters.

onto other things….

in my fantasies – i meet a nice guy who loves to cycle casually on sunday. he realizes that i cANt navigate a bike on my own. so he invests in one of these. as corny as a bicycle built for two is,  i adore the old fashioned sentiment. i like the idea of doing together in a way that works …considering all involved.

this gem of a bike was at a place i was featured at… as an artist. i sold some art and gabbed with people who felt curious about me and my work. very low ebb of an afternoon but lovely.

the memory of an old schwinn takes me to many places. i’ve had 3. only one had the glitter hand grips. she was a buttery brown.

i feel too vulnerable to ride a bike now.

i am not a pig tail gal. more of a braids person. on this day though i was lazy. i love the part in back because there is only a very small moment of the dark hair left that use to be my signature. the rest is silvered or turned of all things rather white. i love the contrast

i call these two shots pig tails and jasmine rice. it was a daily, making rice, kitchen cabinet door left  open ( i do that. a lot ) moment. plus it’s not a bad shot of that tatt of mine.

perhaps i should feel apologetic about the beginning of this post.

like maybe my thoughts are not what you want to hear

but I don’t feel sorry.

i feel truthful

perhaps that’s where some of you were coming from too.