This rather short animation spoke to me deeply. Communicating well is a passion of mine, bordering on obsession. Thank you to Taylor Mali for crafting such a beautiful commentary, and Ronnie Bruce for the striking animation to go with it.
Flashes of Innocence
2010 -
03.03
There wasn’t a reason for her to look at him – he hadn’t moved or made any noise. She did look, though, and was momentarily stricken with his eyelashes. Not something one usually notices on strangers, really.
He had his eyes closed, listening to some generic rap song turned up way too loud on his headphones. No doubt he’d normally be instantly judged as a troublemaker or a gang member, but in that instant all she could see was how young he was. Those thick eyelashes resting on cheeks still plump with baby fat…just a kid, trying to act like something resembling an adult. She automatically thought of all the times she’d cooed over adorable babies in that same state, and he was irrevocably imbued with that sweet innocence.
He got up and walked away a moment later, complete with the typical swagger of an arrogant young man…but the innocence on his face stuck with her until he disappeared from sight.
Slow
2010 -
03.01
There are times when all it takes is a slowly drawn breath to make the world slow down. Everything seems to float, gently moving along its way at a fraction of its normal pace, and in the process the world gets brighter – at times painfully so.
Those are the moments where I lose myself in the endless beauty of mundane life – the purple flowers nestled in patchy grass by the sidewalk on my walk home from work, the swirled rust patterns on a fence, the iridescent feathers of the birds hanging out by the train tracks.
The train holds so many of those moments for me, especially in the mornings. The day hasn’t had a chance to get all hectic yet, and my mind is still mostly uncluttered. Crossing bridges seems to be a regular trigger, especially when I’m standing by the window. The trees are so close, unreachable through the plexiglass, yet I can sometimes feel the wind on my face and the rustling of the leaves.
There’s a road by the river that’s crumbling because the dirt beneath it is being washed away, and every time I see it I get a jarring pang – part devastation at the painful-looking crack in the cement, part joy and awe at the power of nature in the face of all our technology.
Watching the news and reading the papers can be a intense experience in the wake of a ‘natural disaster’. I feel for those whose entire lives have been uprooted, all belongings destroyed, and for those who have died – yet underneath that empathy is a celebration of the cycle that continues. New life comes from death and destruction, and the beauty and balance of it makes me ache with joy sometimes. When we take too much, Mother Nature will take it back in some form, and we can’t stop her.
Train
2010 -
02.19
She takes the train to work every day, and every day the view seems different. It all alters with the song playing through her headphones – sometimes she sees destruction, sometimes rebirth, sometimes both. It’s always beautiful, though, even in the occasional ugliness. Trash and old tires strewn down hillsides with trees and weeds growing wild around them, crumbling bricks of walls and buildings covered with snow and graffiti.
Sometimes she sees a post-nuclear world, where mankind has lost the main battle and has been relegated to its beginnings – gathering food from Mother Nature as she reclaims her planet. Buildings deserted and disintegrating under the weight of grass and trees, and animals using the ruins as new, more secure homes. It moves her violently sometimes, and she can get lost in that apocalypse so easily, until the rumbling of the train jolts her back to awareness.
Other times, she sees life bustling wildly – people hurrying to and fro, manic and lost in their own worlds, just as she appears at that particular instant. She wonders what they’re thinking, tries to guess at their deepest secrets, and wishes them well as they move past her without even registering her presence. She doesn’t miss being so self-absorbed – it kept her from noticing the flowers peeking through the cracks of concrete and steel.
Insomniac ramblings
2009 -
11.07
**Disclaimer: I wrote this on little sleep, and it’s somewhat rambly and nonsensical, I think. I post it as an exercise in keeping myself honest and open. I have not proofread it – the rant is unedited entirely. You have been warned.
I don’t play with that many people.
Perhaps that’s a trust issue on my part. I don’t like to let many in that close to me, and kink is so incredibly personal.
More than that though, I think, is my passion for the human body. When I play with someone, I fall in love with their body- the way it moves with mine, the way they smell, the way they feel against me. The essence of that person’s presence infuses me so totally.
When I really get personal in a scene, whether I’m a Domme or sub, I fall into this passionate infatuation with the being sharing the scene with me. I’m stunned into near worship of the achingly beautiful, flawed yet perfect form that is humanity. It’s fragility, its resilience, the beautiful patterns made by floggers, crops, and whips on skin.
I find that this state is terrifyingly rare for me, though. There are flashes of it with lovers – moments in time where all I can think is how much I want that piece of skin right there in my mouth – but the reality-eclipsing passion? Sorely lacking in its regular appearance of late.
It’s easier to find when I submit. The essence of worship and adoration is inherent in my submission, and it’s a rare personality that can inspire it in me. I’ve come to hold my self-control too dear to me to hand it out freely, even in small doses. When I do, it’s carefully considered, weighed, and planned.
Finding that headspace as a Domme, however, is elusive. I haven’t yet figured out what precisely trips that trigger, and I find myself hovering in this mostly satisfying yet disappointingly superficial play state. I’m teasing, saccharine and cloying, too sweet to be palatable and force-feeding the easy torment that I seem to love dishing out. It’s fun, it’s exciting, and I almost feel sated when I’m done, but not quite.
How do I find this all-encompassing state? I fear playing too much with those that are not my partners, because I don’t know how to trust that far yet. I fear playing mad scientist with my experiments on my lovers, with the struggles of burnout and the confines of preexisting patterns that would need to be broken – and the uncertainty of what that may bring and my preparedness for it. Am I a strong enough Domme to take responsibility for my experiments, and the risks they entail?
Hell, I don’t even know what those experiments may be. I have no clue where to start. How do I recreate what has happened before and pinpoint what has flipped the switch? Would that even work?
My concerns seem to be nothing but an amorphous blob, vague and cloudy. I try to articulate them, but how well am I doing? Am I even succeeding in explaining things to myself?
I put this out there as a challenge, both to myself and to others, to explore limits and passions. To never cease the pursuit of that awe-filled nirvana, however it is reached. To examine motivations, compulsions, desires – find out what fans those flames, and the origin of the sparks.
I seek joy in my kink, and every introspection is another step closer to it. Utter joy is my goal, and the inspiration for my life, my art, my voice, my loves. Joy in pain, in pleasure, in loneliness, in comfort. Joy in the tedium, in the unexpected, in the everyday and in the once-in-a-lifetime. Joy comes from within, not from the world, and my inner search continues unabated.
And now, for something completely different
2009 -
10.02
I’m not usually one for men in diapers, but this has absolutely destroyed me today. Amazing.
Everyday notoriety
2009 -
10.01
As life settles back into its routine, I find myself with a new conundrum. How open should I really be about my life? We’re starting to attend more conventions, and it’s getting progressively more awkward to avoid the topic with my coworkers.
How do I do this, though? I wait tables, so it’s not like I have a huge public presence to worry about. It’s a family company, though, and notoriously conservative.
If I continue this path, and blog more consistently (bad girl for not blogging more!), then I could very easily see this merging in with my public life. I know that I have information and advice that can help someone, because I’ve screwed up enough things and tried to learn from them. I want to share, and make myself available, but to do that I must make myself somewhat public.
I find myself contemplating this more, because I got my first link, from a blog called Sex Blog Conspiracy. As an aspiring blogger, this is a huge deal (!!), and I’m grateful for the notice!
It makes me want it more, now. I want to be productive, and innovative, and put my voice out there. I know that I’ve been assisted by those who have the guts to step forward and make their knowledge and passion public, and I want to pay that forward.
Everyday life takes its toll when we don’t focus on our passions and live them consistently. Even the most accomplished musician must practice between performances to keep her edge. This is why it’s so important to fight the lull of routine and rut, and make the effort to keep our passions front and center in our intentions, if not our public lives. Don’t let the mundane strip away your desire to do something, whether it be kink or craft or travel.
As for going public, I’ll percolate on it a bit more. It affects much more than just myself, and all aspects must be weighed as much as possible. I’ll keep you posted. 
Revelations and apologies
2009 -
09.14
To my kinky side: I’m sorry. I have neglected you for oh so long, and I must pay my penance.
You never had a priority – everything else in my life was just so much more important, from unfulfilling jobs and ridiculous schedules to sitting on the internet and vegging for hours at a time. This is a sin, and I have only recently recognized its gravity.
I went to COPE this weekend, and what was expected to be simply a grand play party with some lessons thrown in turned into a full-blown deep sea expedition into my own psyche. Play morphed into something completely new and, at the same time, something intensely familiar. I remembered what it was like to be absolutely in love with what I’m doing right now.
There were two classes and two scenes that really helped to drive this home. I discovered that I was, in fact, not the only person that found the absurd and ridiculous sexy. I found a process to thinking about identity and relationships with others, and how to differentiate between the essence of my being and the driving core to my life. I experienced the absolute joy of being secure in my desires, as well as the confidence to request them and the freedom to relish them completely as they are fulfilled.
Finally, I shared the shock of unleashing a previously untapped appreciation for play that, until my ego and established thought processes had been pushed aside, I never thought I would actually do – let alone relish.
I am grateful for all the people that helped guide me to these realizations. A few had very limited to no contact whatsoever with me, while some were intimately involved with the process (though unaware at the time). Without the instructors’ willingness to put themselves out there and share their experiences, some of us would never be inspired and driven to grow.
I feel revitalized and scrubbed fresh, all aglow with the effort of thousands of tiny sharp lessons and questions to cut away the needless complications.
Thank you.
WTF, Dell?
2009 -
07.08
Let me start out by saying that I own a Dell Mini 9, and there just aren’t words in the English language to convey how much I love it. It’s portable, durable, came pre-installed with Ubuntu, and runs completely silently. This little thing is my baby.
That said, I am now incredibly reluctant to even think about buying from them again. They’ve had three pricing snafus (of which I’m aware) in less than two weeks – one in which my sweetie lost out on a couple of monitors, and two gigantic issues in Taiwan.
I’ve worked most of my life in retail, and lemme tell you – I don’t know of a single place that wouldn’t honor the advertised price, even if it WAS a mistake. Even if the company has to take a hit. Even if that hit ends up being HUGE. Respect for the customers, and their continuing respect for the company, demands nothing less.
Dell, however, seems to think otherwise. I’ve heard tell of other pricing mishaps, and just as they’ve done with these, they’ve canceled the orders. That’s unacceptable. Once the transaction has been completed – even if the charge on the customer’s debit/credit card is still pending – there should be no ability for Dell to just say “Whups! Our bad – you can’t have that.”
I’m not a programmer, so I have no idea what the developers have set up as far as their pricing input goes. However, I am familiar with the employment hierarchy, and the necessity of accountability in something like this. With all the money they’ve lost in only ONE of these mishaps, they could very easily hire an intern or two to make sure these things are correct before the final change is made on the site. It doesn’t matter how complex the site design itself may be – look at a preview of the item before the change goes live, and if it’s wrong then don’t post it. Simple problem, simple solution.
Hey Dell? If you ever consider actually taking rational measures to fix this issue, gimme a call.
Idle evening thoughts
2009 -
07.06
It’s a beautiful evening. I’m sitting outside, enjoying the breeze and exploring the blogging options on my G1. This post is an experiment, but a pleasant one thus far.
I’m aching to write something, but solid inspiration just won’t come. I feel trapped and suffocated by my untapped stories, but I can never seem to get them flowing when the opportunity to sit down arises.
Perhaps I’ll try again now, even though I’m typing on my phone. Even a snippet is better than nothing, right?
