This is the Place.

They’re celebrating pioneer day here in the city of salt. My dog Love, is perched on the bed waiting with soft ears perked, for that first fizz-crackle-pop of fireworks. She’ll trot double-quick to sit shivering next to the toilet. Poor little thing. I’ve been playing music at top volume all afternoon to acclimate her to the coming booms of this evenings night-flowers.

That’s Life…

The Good Life…

This Is My Life…

Night Life…

 


Doing.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading as of late:

Just finished reading (for the third time) The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It’s kept me out of trouble more times then I can count, and I find myself using the information in it on a daily basis.

Also finished Ladders to Fire by Anais Nin. A gift from Other. A beautiful first edition and illustrated with engravings by Ian Hugo. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Nin is an outstanding writer. She has an amazing way of conveying the inner life of her characters that I haven’t run across often.

It’s a beautiful Salt Lake saturday morning. I was up with the sun so far it’s been quiet and productive on the home front. I’ve been getting the house cleaning done. Two doggy walks. Some gardening, reading, crocheting, and yoga thrown in for spice. And yet I’m still a bit at a loss as to what to do with my day. I’ve been thinking about establishing some goals. Lately I feel as though I’m drifting through my life and I’m hoping some directed structure will make a difference.

No One Said it Would Be Easy… it’s just a question of eliminating obstacles.

The mail just arrived. A big thank you to my texas turkey for your generous monetary support. Looking forward to stuffing you soon.

Let’s see what else am I up to? Listening to music of course.

Better Times…

1901… This song by Phoenix is just another example of wonderfully french things.

Twilight Galaxy…

Gimme Sympathy…

Help I’m Alive…

An Interview of Emily Haines. There is something about her music that has always really touched me. Something in her lyrics reaching resonance in me.

I desperately need to get some food.

 

Love Andrew Bird.

Tenuousness…

Imitosis…

Andrew Bird is entirely yummy, not to mention a noteworthy musician/artist.

This one gives me chills.

Why… does he embody my fetish so well? Oh my…

Who’s Your Porn Daddy?

Hugh Hefner, in my opinion, doesn’t hold a candle to Larry Flynt. Larry Flynt all the way. For a lot of reasons. While Hefner is obviously an incredible PR man and knows how to work consumers, and I think it safe to say Hefner has got amazing business acumen.  That being said; I think Flynt has done more to challenge social and cultural norms, and has gone beyond the call of duty to protect my freedom of speech. Despite (or because of) mental illness and (perhaps) questionable personal ethics: thank you Mr. Flynt.

Back to Some Music.

For Your Eyes Only…

Rhianna and Vanessa Williams are making a splash, but they aren’t the only ones playing the BDSM card. Evidence the above music video. Sex, especially kinky sex, sells.

Greater Than the Sum of Our Parts.

Basic Space…

Crystalized…

Islands…

Alright, I’ve been posting a lot of music lately, but nothing really substantive. No personal thoughts, no insight to my daily life. Pretty surface, but let’s do a little diving and delving into my past. Some of my history.

I’m a native of Utah. The second oldest of eight siblings. I grew up fast and moved out young. At the age of fourteen I lived with an upper middle-class couple. She a Professor of Secondary Education and he an Anthropologist. I got a job, payed $100.00 room and board. And lived with them until I finished high school. I graduated in 1995 and struck out on my own.

That same year, at a loss as to what to do with myself, I found an add in a local rag, ‘Wanted: Exotic Dancer’. I thought why not. Figuring the money would be good and the experience interesting; I became a fully-nude stripper. Utah is a place of contradiction, of opposites, for every action: equal and opposite reaction. You could, and I did, become a fully-nude stripper at the age of eighteen, for instance. (Seventeen if you have your parents written consent).

I enjoyed two years of sowing my oats, then one day, I found myself looking around my regular coffee haunt; on a tuesday afternoon, and I couldn’t help but notice I had had sexual relations, of one sort or another, with seven out of the ten people there. I decided that perhaps it was time I leave the country for a while. Shortly thereafter I joined the US Air Force. Looking for a little discipline you might say. Of course I didn’t get to run very far.

After training for a year in texas in electronic maintenance on the radar and inertial navigations system of the B-52 Bomber, I was stationed in Minot ND. A place I never knew existed until receiving my assignment. Culture shock started in bootcamp, I went from stripperific to element leader in six short weeks. I completed my first tech a Red Rope, and my second tech school at the top of my class. Minot completed culture shock with culture break as my plane descended into Minot International Airport, all of two gates big, the size of a tiny school house, I cried until I laughed.

I tried a lot of things on for size while I was there. Fishing, ice fishing, painting, working out, stamp collecting, bowling and bingo. I was married for a year and half, and took a side job dealing charitable blackjack. A very trippy time in my life, and yet I find I miss the orderliness and discipline of those days. I finished my four year enlistment in 2001 with an honorable discharge. I was glad to go after Bush Jr’s first election.

I returned to Salt Lake and completely changed gears, got a Master Esthetician License. I worked as for two years doing facials, manicures, pedicures, and waxing. Spent a lot of time giggling while waxing, especially when a man would come in to get his eyebrows waxed for the first time. Painful. As you can imagine giggling didn’t get me very far, and the work wasn’t very challenging. So I got a job as a specimen processing technician a medical reference laboratory. I worked my way up to middle management over five years. Enrolled and briefly attended the U of U.

While the backdrop of a ‘normal’ life was present: a steady ‘legitimate’ job, and continuing education with my MGIB, I always had a second life. I had run across an old friend of mine from stripper days. She had gone on to own an escort agency. I started working for her. Escorting was stressful for me, the constant harassment by Salt Lake vice of escorts and escort agencies, and the public stigma quickly pushed me out of the business. And the truth of it was I wasn’t very good at the hustle, too innocent in strange ways I think. Not into the drugs and drama.

However I felt drawn to sex work, and decided in my typical way, to go cliff diving: become a legal prostitute at a Nevada brothel. I would spend hours in my isolation researching BDSM on line.

One day a woman from town, came into the whore house offering free yoga classes in her studio for those of us who wished to go. I would leave the house every morning and do astanga yoga till noon curfew. I’d go back to the house, take a shower, and change into something provocative. The rest of the day, between johns’ I would write and brows the web.

In 2005 I placed a personal add on alt.com. Which eventually led to my first 24/7 D/s relationship, of the Master/slave type. I relocated to the east coast. Shipped out my personal possessions, including my life’s work in paintings. I was able to reclaim everything but my paintings. Decades after my death they’ll be discovered and possibly worth something.

My slave-hood lasted four months, and ended badly. Not only leaving me temporarily job-less and home-less, but also diagnosed with PTSD. Thankfully, after years of treatment and practice it troubles me rarely. I limped back to Salt Lake, and with the goodness of a friend who not only gave me a place to crash for a few weeks, but also took me and introduced me to the local kink community. A few weeks and I was able to find another 24/7 submissive relationship, that enabled me to eventually put my life back together. I learned a hell of a lot about BDSM with them. Had some amazing experiences.

Eventually the group dynamics became a little too much for me and I found myself longing to have a space of my own; I left service and moved into the place I now reside.

Goodness, it’s taken me all afternoon to write this. I’m going to take a break and work on something else for a while.

My Kind of Sexy.

I found the most amazing site, check this woman out: Zahia Dehar. The site is interactive. Incredible photos and video clips. You can zoom in. The whole thing is like an interactive book. Very, very sexy.

Afternoon Training.

I have a new submissive over this afternoon: in the kitchen, doing some dishes. Naked except for collar, leash, ankle and wrist restraints, spreader bar stretching his legs open nice and wide. Every once in a while I wander in. Pausing to lean against the wall, watching until I see a blush work it’s way up his neck and cheeks. His cock twitching and becoming semi-hard, before sauntering back to my desk.

He’s breaking a sweat now. Tells me he feels like a roman slave in service to the empress reclining on her couch in the other room. I laugh. And slowly devour a golden nectar-filled apricot, one bite at a time.

Still At It.

Miami To Ibiza…

So I just  happened upon this fabulous music by Swedish House Mafia. I’m in love.

Hot wax was fun by the way.

Dance Hall Days…

Let’s Dance…

Dancing With Myself…

Rock Me Amadeus…

Doot Doot…

Not sure how we ended up in the 80’s but here we are.

Blue Monday.

Blue Monday…

Helpless Automaton…

Scary Monsters (& Super Creeps)….

Live It Up…

Mess Around…

Ride the Pain…

One (Your Name)…

Avalon…

Insomnia…

Here With Me…

Take My Hand…

I meant to get some writing done but instead I’ve been listening to music, editing photos, and taking phone calls. Been a busy week over all. I started reading a new book. Hard Core: Power, Pleasure, and the “Frenzy of the Visible” by Linda Williams. Dense book, but really interesting. I’ll share more with you later. Off to play with some hot wax.