and scream…xxx conchita
Today, I have been thinking a lot about love…it is Valentine’s Day, soon…which I know is a ridiculous holiday…but it always seems to pull me in at the last minute…arrrghhh…and despite the cheesy commerciality of the holiday…you know I love love…and today in my daily wanderings I came across some sound relationship advice from none other than Bob Marley. Why does it seem like this man had the secrets of the universe all rolled into a joint?
“He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.”
“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect – you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break – her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.”
And with that sage advice…I think we all could lighten up a bit on those we love this Valentine’s…after all it’s not really about candy and flowers…it’s about finding someone to share your world with…your view…your heart…unconditionally…Damn it’s so easy to forget that and yet so essential for love to endure.
I have always loved ropes…I took to ropes in a way I never did to the whips, or clamps, or verbal barbs of BDSM.
Bondage feels natural, to me; it feels like home.
When I am wrapped (bound) I feel safe, complete, protected…in my restraint. As if I can finally give up on all of the struggles in daily life and just relax into the ropes…the ropes will support me…they will hold me…and if I release…they will deliver me from pain into pleasure.
When I bind another, I feel in control…I feel honored. I feel their trust. A mix of serious concern (for their safety) and waves of pleasure flood my mind. I can always see in their eyes when the session moves from “fun” to the realization that they are dependent on me…completely…they are vulnerable.
I love this moment…I lean in and give her a kiss to reassure her that she hasn’t misplaced her trust…and then I watch her melt into surrender…and the fun begins: she moves, she reaches, she grabs…the ropes become a part of her, an extension of her sexual desire…and I smile, my intentions met.
The above describes much of what you’ll see in the video (shot by Joel of Kamenwati Productions) below from a Halloween event last weekend. My partner, spontaneously volunteered…and this is what she got:
I hope you enjoyed the video…and I would well wishes to everyone recovering from Sandy on the east coast my heart is with you all,
Sometimes a feeling is just about an image…a moment.
This morning a friend posted the above image and it was so impactful I immediately felt:
Images have power.
They can cultivate and create a feeling much like music does or even personal contact.
I believe that’s why I work with the visual so often, for events and even in my personal life. It’s not about being accepted or even admired…it’s about creating an emotional connection to/with another person.
And what do we do with that initial connection? Well that is completely up to you…isn’t it.
Sara Fabel (sarafabel.com) caught my attention on Instagram (a photosharing iPhone application).
She was odd: punky, inked from head-to-toe, pale, lanky, and had an otherworldly almost faery-like beauty.
She shared images from her life, her travels, her modeling, her photography, and her art. I was enthralled. Here was a very young woman who truly owned her own world, beginning with herSELF.
She calls herself a “freelancer” and wishes to live her life through exploring her passions…and I think THAT is…truly…the mark of a renaissance woman…one who explores their passions, on their own terms.
Cheers, to ALL of those who strive to do the same, I am proud to say that I know many men and women who have chosen this same path…and can safely say, that to pattern your life so, only inspires those around you to do the same, to follow their own dreams and discoveries.
Thank you…to ALL YOU RENAISSANCE WOMEN AND MEN, you ultimately make the word a better more beautiful and exciting place for us ALL, xxx conchita.
Last night I dreamt that I “cheated”…
On my lover…my partner, with another man.
It was a blurry, meaningless, swept-up-in-the-moment kind of indiscretion, as opposed to an emotion-laden betrayal. Still it was a lapse in better judgment, which I all too often fall victim.
When righteously confronted, I stumbled…a flood of shame, which lead to justifications and pitiful pleas for atonement.
What followed was surprising even to me, the dreamer, caught in the emotions of loss and guilt:
A spontaneous moment of passion…initiated by him…in the midst of his anger…bringing a new and conflicting set of emotions: desire, submission, rage, and even tenderness.
It was truly a fervent scene…more so for the impromptu and unexpected nature of it than for the fact that we were speeding along very fast, ripping clothing, and tearing skin, which of course only added to the mania of it all.
When I awoke…I thought, as a dreamer often does, “Did that really happen? Am I really embroiled in some dangerous liaison and of my own making?”
I then turned and struck him…while he slept (!)
He moved only slightly, one grunt, then returned to a peaceful rest. But my rage, passion, desire, and shame remained…as I turned to hold him…forcing me to consider:
Passion as a dialectic.
Passion is focused and intense, driven and eager.
Passion is (also) furious, violent and even…misery.
With all of these compelling yet conflicting emotions…is it any wonder why love gives us such strife?
What impacted me the most was the swiftness with which “the coin flipped”…one moment shame, the next lust, next fury, and then tenderness.
Passion is a reflection of the heart, and as such…can never fully be defined, understood, or tamed…nor do I believe it should.
Cheers to Friday…cheers to passion!
I have been thinking about genitalia today. Womens’ genitals, in particular. From all different perspectives: self, other, senses (all 5), feelings/reactions, sexual, etc. And it has brought up a lot of…well FEELING in me. And why would it not?
Female genitalia have been alternately celebrated (Georgia O’keiff’s “flowers”), disparaged (“that is so ugly!”), condemned (chastity belts), and even demonized (vagina dentate). Thus, unsurprisingly, they bring up a mix of emotions from those of us that possess them…WOMEN.
We feel shame…even humiliation all to often when we gaze upon our own bodies, particularly this part of our bodies:
Why? Is it so terrible? So horrific an orifice so as to not deserve the pampering and plumping we give our lips…eyes…ears…etc.? I am not ignorant, I understand the deep-psychological social mores when it comes to vaginas: secret, dark, bad…as well as the confusing flip-side offered from those that desire our vaginas, who want nothing more to be inside. But here I am suggesting something a bit more subtle and intimate:
HOW DO YOU SEE YOUR VAGINA?
I once had a girlfriend say to me that she thought her vagina was the “ugliest thing in the world.” So, we did a photo shoot staring…HER VAGINA. True, it was more of an “outie” (your know what I mean) and had a little more to it than most but I decided very quickly looking at the images that her vagina looked very much like a butterfly, unique and quite lovely really. I do believe this experience was positive for her, but I can only speak for myself and say that it was marvelous for me because I began to understand vaginas as unique…different…unlike anything in the world so how could I possible call one (mine) ugly?
It simply IS…A VAGINA…like no other!
And THAT is enough…and so I say to my fellow women…celebrate your vagina…decorate it and care for it as you would any other part of yourself. And for those of you who haven’t I encourage you to gaze at the vaginas around…appreciate them as they are…a beauty unique to women…unlike any other.