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.

 

 

 

 

I’ve Been There

the hardest part about being alone

or lonely

or without “that person”

is remembering

when i did.

i have had a great many

in my life.

that really wanted me.

they couldn’t stop thinking about me

i’ve had them call

or write

i’ve been surprised by them.

courted.

i have been adored

i’ve had men make love to me and mean it.

i know exactly what i am missing.

something happened along the way.

i couldn’t get a decent date

relationship had fallen out of fashion.

both sexes began to retreat. detach. or become apathetic

soon it was either lets be friends with benefits.

or we can be friends.

or more so,

lets just get laid.

i tried that on.

the sex only gig.

a flurry of men

for fuck sake

and nothing more.

what an empty and shallow thing.

what a waste of my great mind, my wild laugh and my creative brilliance.

and then, recent life happened

and i broke.

if someone approached me now for sex? lusted for me?

i couldn’t do it.

i wouldn’t even want to

writing that?

thinking that.

remembering when someone wanted me?

breaks my heart into a million pieces

I Thought

july was quite the month.

like intense.

i don’t realize how until i went back and looke at my image narrative.

i am often too hyper focused on the now.

i thought perhaps i didn’t get all that nude

just because of the emotional nuances of it all

but i guess i did.

i lost 7 lbs  in 8 weeks

( did i say this already? ugh )

12 lbs over the past year.

some nice improvements to my blood work.

which means good work. continue doing what you are doing

i hurt my knee.

met an absolute asshat doc about that

made my gp doc laugh like heck when i called that dude an asshole.

i am taking a vacation

trying hard to feel i deserve it

but all the stars have really aligned.

i might even feel relaxed

i am fighting a fungal thing

think jock itch but for lady bits

the tissue is angry and not responding.

there is apparently the beginnings of

atrophy.

a-t-r-o-p-h-y

here that gents??

when ya don’t use your parts

they wither.

wrinkle

disappear

and die.

as much as i self touch

i sortof hoped i could bypass atrophy

but the way i do the change of life

none of the maladies associated with it will bypass me

nope

miserable as fuck menopause they should call it.

if it gets to where sex hurts.

i might have to just not.

and right now.

if you wanted me? like in real life

i’d have to say that I couldn’t.

and in this moment. in my writing that very thought.

that breaks my spirit immensely.

which brings me to a memory.

when my second marriage was ending

he, an older man. had performing issues.

we may have been separated even.

funny how sex still occurs in troubled times

don’t you think ??

a gal i know as a gag

gave me my first vibrator

i was in my late 40’s

i didn’t quite get the appeal of them at the time

suffice to say it was something i had to get use to

to practice with.

i remember showing it to him and he was very angry about it. like pissed off.

after a failed bit of lovemaking he said something like

oh why don’t you just go do yourself

and i was really hurt.

i then said, hey wait a sec….as long as we are a couple and sexual

doesn’t aging shift the game??

like in general… don’t couples who age together find new ways to make love ?

i am not interested in masturbating when the real thing can happened between two.

the truth later revealed was that he wasn’t attracted to me any longer

and that whatever sex was attempted was pity sex ( first time i heard that phrase. lovely )

and that he really wasn’t vested in figuring it all out.

so a big fat whatever.

it felt so hopeless.

after that —early match.com years

boy there were a lot of creeps out there.

i hear that woman are equally as creepy as men in online dating

what does that mean?

is it them?

is it the platform?

is it the world?

how does remarkable couple karma happen with so many others?

will i really die alone here???

later —- when i was better at masturbating

i did introduce toys to certain equations.

meaning with a compassionate partner

who wasn’t expectant

a giving thing.

and sometimes that was very exciting for both.

all i can say is i guess you just figure it out as you go.

How To

its been an inside my head couple of days.

a gal friend stopped over. she brought me fresh eggs. i find them so beautiful. it makes me want to cry. and their yolk color. oh my gosh. the richest yellow ever

we had a good long gab, artist to artist about a collaborative. putting that idea into action, 5 collages flew out of me the following morning. they were prompt driven and each spoke it’s own truth. this examples a trust in the process. this makes me feel knowing. I like that.

i have been having a good talk with myself about how to know me.

there is this classic diagram about that inner circle thing.

the very very small percentage of those who’ve got your back

vs the volume of people you might know.

I have been trying to be the square peg in a round hole for a very long time

but i have not made sense of it all.

lately i feel like i want to know.

i have said this before here. just because you know me here

does not mean you know me. the me of me. the person. the inside out stuff.

i have grappled with how to change that.

i have been asking why is it now that i am older, that i meet way more wounded, guarded broken sorts — more than i ever use to before. is it age? is it me? is it normal?

the other day – a gal in my community admitted that she was a fan of my work, and curious to know me but she was embarrassed to hang out with me because of my face.  Thoughts/feelings she’s completely allowed to have.

Another person that I observe and am a fan of who has facial hair like I do went to a family reunion and she shaved her face. Her comments about that were to honor her parents and to choose her battles. her choice was respect for herself. that the beard didn’t define her. I liked what she did for her family. Would I do that?

This had me feel two things. 1. bravery about having female facial hair is not only mine. others have to be brave too  2. how many stay away because of those same embarrassed feelings.

There are fans here at anonymously nude that love hair. yet they love it selectively. the love of hair is what spired my first layer of hirsute freedom. a very liberating thing for me. my fans here – people i will never really know got me to that liberated place. thank you.  however anonymous — they. you are. you will likely always be at a distance. not inner circle. this begs the question. if i was your neighbor would we be friends?? I just wonder.

i have decided that i am not easy to be friends with. this is something i take responsibility for. I say this not to be all super unique, special or different. I say this from a place of ache, a desire for understanding. to be understood. it’s been there. my entire life.

lately — i’ve REALLY wanted to explain this.

and i get here. to the part where I have guidelines to perhaps offer

and I wonder why is it all so f-ing complicated.

i am stopped.

there are two men that i do not know personally. but I know.

their appearance, their take on their every day life, their sweetness just gets to me.

over the years — yes years ….as they have become men, stronger more defined men – i have come to admire them immensely. i really like these men. they make me feel, they make me smile, and they have these huge hearts.  I want them in my hip pocket. I want them to like me.

and, the great thing is they do. in their own way. at a distance from their busy lives.

do i ask for that in the man of my dreams. is my woman crush of these persons hindering me ??

I don’t know many folks that I can sit down and talk about this stuff with

so i blurt it here to make sense of it.

mr helicopter pilot said people are not hot fudge sundaes – people are people. you can’t choose the ice cream flavors, and/or pass on the cherry on top. just enjoy the damn hot fudge sundae. we laughed about that.

later he said i wasn’t a fit for him.

and I wasn’t.

and if i was, he would have had to have been a different sort of person to get to that.

perhaps thats a lot to ask.

ugh

these eggs are calling me. i am hungry.

I am sure I will find expound on this topic later.


Dreams

sometimes “parent” days

affectionately known as mother and fathers day

can slip by like any other forced march

thing. 

don’t get me wrong.

the sentiment of mom and dad

is a wonderful wonderful thing.

i am all for it.

i love that you love your parents.

i just don’t personally know it.

i didn’t get to.

sometimes,

the subconscious mind offers a reveal.

i don’t know where this dream is coming from

but i have had it several times now.

the dream is a slow motion over and over sharing of my mother shoving me out of her bed. sometimes with her hands, sometimes with both her hands and her feet.

that’s almost nightmare-ish

repeatedly as a little girl I use to try and crawl in for a cuddle with my mom.

she never allowed it.

sometimes my trying just pissed her off.

i remember what it felt like when she pushed me away.

i mean, if you recall i am the child that went back into the womb.

so, there is that.

both my parents were devoted sleepers.

they could nap like no one else i know.

my father especially.

i can sport a good nap myself

and, sleeping in sometimes

oh sleeping in is absolutely delicious.

i didn’t crawl in with her in the middle of the night.

the hug i seemed to have wanted was needed in the early morning.

i didn’t want to sleep with her

I WANTED A HUG.

maybe she simply didn’t want to be disturbed while sleeping

maybe her pushing me away meant nothing.

maybe it’s this book i am reading.

a woman is articulating her years of therapy

and her depression.

i may have spiraled a time or two

i might be doing the anxious dance from time to time

and sure as fuck,  i am quirky as one can get

but in comparison?

nothing can compare.

i admire the shit out of this woman

oddly.

i have never met her.

her book and her as a persona

are NOT what i expected.

i am enjoying her story.

her despair is positively hilarious.

she uses humor, I think, to cope.

i probably have expressed it here before.

i don’t love either of my parents.

it’s not even lost love.

i remember my mother trying to be my friend during puberty and early dating.

like she all of a sudden became emotionally available.

i also knew better and felt suspicious.

imagine being 14 and not emotionally trusting your mother.

i trusted that.

later i would come to know she was reading my journals.

she read about

my first boyfriend

my first lots of things

how much i loved being fingered.

oh …but,

that first time being fingered

so worth writing about.

right??

maybe it’s because my cat needs to suckle

every time she does i feel impatient.

are you done yet?

the dream

is perhaps sorting why.

i want her ( my cat ) to be happy with me.

oddly, she does not sleep with me.

she does not knead my chest and or meow in my face

at 4 am either.

which is probably a good thing

because if she did,  i’d most likely toss her across the room.

maybe i am more like my mother than i thought?

maybe its about wanting to sleep

i am working on learning more on why she bites me.

i think it may her asserting territory.

my living space is small.

just by paying attention the patterns are finding their way.

i pulled some images from last may.

more shadow play

i started wearing my grandmother’s bracelets a year ago

glad i did that.

 

 

Dreams Of A Man

i can’t tell you the last time i thought about a man.

that thing that happens when our mind plays with the potential.

something sparks it. a visual, a story heard, or even a memory

and then instant replay happens.

or fill in the blanks

or we make it up as we go

once sparked, you sometimes feel a little mischievous

as you embellish, you then play, and you get all sexy inside your mind about it.

haven’t thought like that in a long long while.

once upon a time a man said – you are so beautiful. he said, if only you could see how beautiful you are, the way i see you.  i never thought i was very beautiful, ever – well that’s not exactly so, but my personal sense of my beauty was pretty jilted. i told this man he was full of shit. that he was just a perverted old man.

but it struck me – what if he’s right, what does he see that I don’t, what if i am beautiful?

and so, i began to look.

partly to see what he might be seeing

and later because I liked what I saw too.

i never imagined at the beginning of this blog

that men would dive in with me

i never knew that i could have an impact on a stranger.

not in a way that would compel  some of them to want to meet me, or to send gifts, or to help me pay an art fee, or contribute to the repair of my car. which by the by to those of you who did those things. thank you. thank you very much

the fleeting nature of these strangers I guess is inevitable.

i don’t like it. but – mens interests are not vested in me and my day to day, they just want someone to fill in the blanks.

when my HS sweetheart joined the marines – we were engaged, we were young, but we were really good together. my father had emotionally abandoned me the year prior. he went on to leave my mother and treated me during this time like a sex object – he was expressing his own mid-life crisis but the things he did crossed boundaries. they were not appropriate. my father had a lot of issues that surfaced when my guy and I started dating. so much drama in my home life. i never would have gotten through any of it had it not been for him. my sweetheart neglected to consult me about his joining the service. here he was making the biggest decision of his life and he forgot to ask me what I thought. i was going to be his wife. I was so hurt, but not by his decision. I was hurt because he didn’t value you me as part of the couple I believed us to be. He just told me – this is the way it’s going to be. While he was away, I tried to fill in the empty places. i loved kissing feeling like a man wanted more of me. I liked the power that gave me – even if the moment a kiss became more, I became nothing in the equation. The more I kissed, the more they took and the more I tried to fill what was missing inside. I love sex, I love it now — I adored it then. In my time that made me a slut. for liking it that is. Oddly, and now that i think on it — the being a slut really depended on a certain social hierarchy. popular girls could have all the sex they wanted – they were cool for being sexual. men always told me I was very passionate. i guess the popular girls just went through the motions or they just laid there.  but the popular girls had the lines of men at the door. that was never me, I was the one in the back seat of the car.

( well that was a side track of a thought )

the thing is — i am still here. i am loyal.

so many of you, come and go ever so silently

looking at me

enjoying what you see

or what i write.

perhaps you are adoring

but unless you tell me

and so many of you don’t

i’ll never know.

i hear it all the time.

I have been reading your blog for years.

and??? what took you so long to tell me?

what i don’t like are the ones who i’ve lost touch with.

the ones that risked being part of my personal sphere

but for one reason or another they are now gone.

it’s not really fair that they get to look at me.

i get nothing of them in return.

( one of the fine lines of meeting a man in my real life is to tell them that i do nude photography. that i take self portraits of myself nude. that i have a portfolio of nudes that is a decade old. some men just don’t get it. they get upset by it. sometimes an image i take is prompted by an interaction. this one, and a few others were taken after i had hung with someone for the day. i was photographing him working. he was nervous at first and then as the day went on – he relaxed. i got some great shots of him. at the end of the day we hugged. he had also helped me with my stranded car. and I guess I too relaxed and I hugged him with all of me. that’s who i am –  he said later. do you always hug like that?? He said that i gave the best hug he’d ever had in his life. what a nice thing to say. now i miss hugs too.  )