Holding.


Rob Brezsny's Freewill Astrology is here and Morford writes about How To Make Yourself Smarter.


In much anticipation of tomorrow.

I'm visiting my parents in western MA for a couple days and wasn't sure if I'd have internet access. My sister kindly loaned me her ethernet cable and here I am.

It's a very loaded visit in so many ways. Today my sisters were talking about a portrait that mom was painting of us three girls. I was informed that I was 13 or 14 at the time. We sat for many sittings. I have no recollection at all of the sittings. I remember a painting was begun. But that's from seeing the painting laying around.

Checked out a little?
Seems that way.

It freaked me out some because I thought that most of my lack of memory was before 10. Yet apparently it continued into my teenage years.

The painting was found tucked away in the old house and needs to be moved before the closing. I'll get to see it tomorrow. Or maybe Thursday morning before I return to NYC. I'm curious to see it.

Bittersweet.

It's good to see my parents. The sad part is how old and feeble they are. Seeing my brothers and sisters is very nice as well. And sitting around the table listening to them all talk reminds me how alien my view of life is from theirs. Tough to believe the same blood flows in our bodies. The chasm feels great.

My two sisters and I spent a couple hours alone together. We chatted about growing up and the judgmental lifestyle we were subjected to. My sister mentioned today that my dad is beginning to get an inkling of how he was oblivious to what we were all going through as children. He was pretty out of it, immersed in his medical practice and mostly his religion. They also admitted to me that neither of them have any memories of being touched as children. So I wasn't the only one. We all remember the group things...a social, democratic love. But when it came to each feeling special and loved for our unique selves...there is nothing.

Discovering that bond was eye-opening.


I love my family. And yet, each time I go home becomes a more painful experience than the last. I trust that one day I'll come to a place where I've made peace with my past and can allow it to simply be.

Our hope lies in the next generation. My niece and nephews are wonderful kids. More well-adjusted, brilliant, talented and more comfortable in their skins than we were at their age.

This is the first time I'm staying in the new house instead of the one I grew up in. No old ghosts, yet there are familiar feelings because of the furniture and all the catholic statuary, crucifixes and photos of the pope in every room. It's still pretty unsettling and at the same time, there is a clearness because it is a new surrounding. The house is lighter.

Inside, I'm split between painful tears and peace. Feeling both.


I'm not even going to explain how a bag of chips connects to this entry. It's a bad metaphor.

Gee this entry is a mess...

Something happened today that reminded me there are many different ways we gauge our worth. I was at the frame store with a friend who desired to frame a drawing of mine that they owned.

We sat, looked at mats and various moldings. We took our time coming up with the perfect frame...considered the possibilities. Once the decision was made, the woman stepped back to calculate the total. When I heard the amount I almost choked.

I had nothing to do with the framing other than offer moral support, and yet was the one who suffered severe sticker shock. Good framing is expensive. But it was almost $150 more than I expected.

Guilt filled me.

Even though it wasn't my choice, my responsibility, nor my wallet, I felt guilty that my friend would pay such a price to frame something I created. I didn't feel the piece was worthy of the expense.

Yet who am I to decide that? It's not my piece anymore. It belongs to another.

Working through the discomfort of that moment was interesting.

Today's experience wasn't only another lesson in worth, but one in letting go. As soon as I've finished (whatever that means) a piece, maybe it's really no longer mine anymore. And, if the work is in the hands of another, it really stops belonging to me. They can do what they like with it, be it frame it, burn the damned thing or anything else.


And by the way, it's snowing tonight in NYC. Very, very pretty.

I'm in NYC, staying with N and having a wonderful time. Exciting and restful. Definitely needed. All good.
Note for Daniel: Had dinner tonight at Katz's Deli.

Not much else to say. More later.

I'm going Home.

(See you very soon)

A heightened state.
Strong. Solid.

Stay the course.

Every cell of my being is reaching.
Longing. Aching.

Horny? Me?
Extraordinarily so.

One more night and one more day.



I didn't mean to write bad poetry but my words have temporarily ummm....disappeared because my body is otherwise engaged.


Following this theme and considering the next week and a half...my Rob Brezsny horoscope is quite fitting.
Heh.

My analysis of the astrological omens suggests that you'll be more animalistic than usual in the coming weeks. Your instinctual intelligence will be high, which means you'll have a good sense of who to trust and who not to trust. In fact, your body will be offering you a stream of valuable information about other matters as well, from tips on how to rise higher in the pecking order to clues about where to find the best hunting grounds. It's also likely that you'll be hornier and wilder than usual. That could be quite fun or it could get you into trouble. Which way it goes will depend on how well the human in you both respects and controls the animal in you.


And here is yours.

A challenge is going around to write an erotic piece in 50 words.







from when your tongue first claimed my mouth
your hands took my body
your voice touched my soul…

it stirred with yours

you've infiltrated, attacked and loved.
your eyes grab, tease, touch.

penetrate
permeate
saturate
impregnate

mold, meld, jelled, and swelled,

I am putty.

throbbing, sweating, grunting, crying,

it's you.

I run, run, run, run until I can't run anymore.

Awareness opens the door. All that is felt and remembered comes from times long ago.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be fully free of the crushing grip of the past.

And then, a moment comes where it loosens. Not quite as tight.
It's still experienced but somehow my energy has changed and it can't hold on for too long.

This process...healing, is a magical thing. When you think you can't take the next step because of the bleakness in front of you, a speck of sparkle dust wafts in and the light changes.

I've been watching these snippets, knowing I can't capture them either. It all comes and goes as it needs to.

I don't know if I'm back on a daily basis but right now, here I am.

It's been a challenging few weeks, increasing in intensity.
Needed.
Healing.
Tough.

Old and not so old memories have returned in fits and waves, all allowing for greater understanding of who I am.

My choice to not blog was the equivalent of curling up in a cave or being locked in a cage. For my eyes only. Or me and a few others.
Licking my wounds.

In addition to the internal work, it's been a very busy week. Badfaggot was in town and we spent much time together. He is near and dear to my heart.

Then on Friday was the added bonus of Ubermunkey.

As a total surprise, we ended up spending all day Friday together. Alki Beach, Fremont, downtown...we walked, looked, experienced and talked. And talked some more.

Ubermunkey and I had briefly met back in September when Bitterlawngnome was in town. We were introduced over dinner. And on Friday, it felt like we were old friends. Very comfortable. Familiar energy. He immediately became one of the family.

Saturday night there was a small play party of about 12 in a very intimate setting. Our two out of town guests were able to join us. It was perfect. The energy just right. Hearing screams from the dungeon while some of us were upstairs, was music. In addition, being in the dungeon and hearing screams coming from the kitchen was also a joy.

Playing with family is a wonderful thing. From the silliness, the teasing, to the shift in energy pushing people into scenes of varying intensity was wonderful. One on one, to groupings, to finally kicking back, all sprawled on the floor talking and laughing. Pokes, pinches and prods were thrown in for good measure.

A few cathartic scenes were enjoyed.

Near the end I was engaged in a duel with another boy. I was wielding a riding crop while he was armed with a nasty, thin little fiberglass cane.

It was all needed. The massive amount of touching both tender and rough, biting, deep kisses, back rubs, torture, beatings and tears.
And love. Much love.

Thank you. All of you.

(And you. Thank you for the call that night. Your timing was so very perfect.)


The photo from the party is the most you'll get from me.
And no, I'm not the one locked up and tucked in a sleepsack.
I was one of the screamers.

Just popping in to say I've been taking a break from blogging for bit. It's needed time away. Not sure how long it will last. My energy has gone to things other than writing, painting and photography.

This morning I've begun training my temporary replacement at work. He will definitely be here a month. Longer, if needed.

And...it's snowing again.
Very pretty. The perfect day for hot cider spiked with tequila.

After a slow morning start, I received a nice surprise.

Badfaggot flew in last night and I didn't expect to see him at all this weekend. In an attempt to connect with Hoss to run errands with me, Badfaggot came in his place.

We spent the whole day together and then, promptly at 6pm, as requested, I dropped him off at Qnetter's.


I've been looking for another messenger type bag, but smaller. Preferably canvas. Something to walk around with with that's not as large as the one I use to travel. A bag to hold my camera, sketch pad, pen and not much else. Maybe gloves. Being canvas, it would take no room in my luggage but I'd use it for walking around at times when I don't need to lug everything.

We hit Old Navy, Target, GI Joe's, Gap, American Eagle, Urban Outfitters, Eddie Bauer, J.Crew, Banana Republic, Levi's and a couple others. I finally picked one up from American Eagle because it was dirt cheap, on sale. But it's still a little larger than I'd prefer.

They are now tough to find.


It snowed lightly all day.
Very pretty. And tricky. The light coating blanketed the remaining black ice that has covered many of our streets since Thursday.

And it's been cold.
Normally, I don't need to open the valve on my steam radiator, but I've had it cranked open non-stop for the last few days.

I worry for the goldfish in our courtyard pond.

We've had non-stop freaky weather since October.

Sadly, I didn't take pictures today. Leaving my apartment I knew I was forgetting something. Yup. My camera.

It was another very cold day. Unusually cold for Seattle.
Hard to stay warm.

Baths help.

Early this morning I wrote an entry, a rant.

Although I shared it with one person, and he felt I didn't need to apologize for my words (which I agree with), I had much doubt about posting it.

I'm still not comfortable. It smacks of victim and I've worked and do work hard to not let myself sit in that place.

I'm angry, and the anger comes from hurt. Over the last month or so, recent events have dug up memories of pain. Stuff that needs to be felt to heal. With it, there is a lot of rage and so I fell into attack mode.

So, I pulled it off Blogger, saved it as a draft and may rework it later on.

Instead, I've leave it at this - I'm in the process of some serious reconstruction, just like our conference room.

What I wrote to someone last night:

"As I work and heal...become stronger and healthier, the demons scream louder."

They are rebelling because they can't stand to lose a captive.

Once again…again….I'm struggling. Maybe struggling is the wrong word. I'm immersed - immersed in all the pain of my youth.

I've written before about peeling off layers and with each motion, we move toward the deeper pain. Each time, I though I was at my core.
Silly. Maybe that doesn't happen until we die.

What's different this time is that I'm holding on to my present, knowing it really has nothing to do with my past. I love and cherish. I rest in the arms of one who loves me. And yet, even in this, I'm surrounded by ghosts and goblins poking me with swords and spears.

Unless I can get through this, I really am nothing.

I don't see my shrink until next week but this morning I will call him. I need his reassurance that all I need to do is let myself go through it. See? I know what to do. Feel it. Walk it. Move in it and each step will take me out of it. But today I really need him to tell me that I will get through it. Right now there seems to be no end in sight.

He has done this work, gone through the suffering. I know he'll tell me the truth.

Last night I was able to paint. I stayed close to love.
Then, because I've been so tired, I medicated myself hoping to get a full night's sleep. And I did. 8 solid hours.
Much needed.

I can't get through this without my rest.

This week's Freewill Astrology.
And this month's Planet Waves.

Some of last night's work.

There has been so much happening in my life lately that it's causing restless nights. I still wake about 4ish with a buzzing head, filled with one thought after another. Trying to slow down the images is exhausting but after a while I drift off to sleep into some bizarre dream for about an hour.

Yeah. I'm very tired.

I remember when I took the Body Electric Intensive a few years ago. The work we were doing during the day kicked up so much energy that I didn't sleep well then either. It was all good stuff and in bed, in the dark, I'd be vibrating.

This is reminiscent of that time.

I'm not feeling very smart or insightful today because I am tired. I haven't painted for about 3 days because of it.
There is art work to ship out and I can't seem to get it together.

A couple weeks ago while at the doctor's, I discovered I lost 15 pounds in the last 8 months. I've tried for 3 years and nothing would budge. My metabolism seems to have shifted and it makes me happy. I feel better in my body.

This week it feels as if I've lost more. When I slipped on my jeans after being washed, I didn't need to stretch them. They were baggy.
Good stress does that to me. The same thing happened when I was in the throes of my thesis. But now I have to be careful because I don't need to lose anymore.

One thought in the forefront of my head: 16 more days until my adventure.

In the meantime, the world is blurry.
It's as if I live in a constant dream state. The moments of clarity are far away and I look forward to more soon. My heart longs for it.

I'm running late today. Although I could have taken today off for my birthday, I'm at work. I'll save the day for the end of the month.

Although having a hard time motivating myself, I'm going to try jumping into work.

Walking the other day I saw this graffiti. It reminded me of some of my ink marks.

Abundance.

How comfortable are you with abundance? Do you let it flow within, feel it and accept it graciously? Do you experience small twinges of discomfort in addition to the joy? Are there thoughts of feeling it's not deserved?


Not having grown up knowing abundance in an emotional sense, I've always been very uncomfortable with attention and love. It has always been easier for me to give than to receive. Hence the call to service. But, as I wrote at the beginning of December, my service needed an evolution to recognize that the opportunity to do service is a great gift of trust bestowed to me. The other is showing their vulnerability. So even in the act of doing service for another, that person is serving me as well.

Power exchange, not power over.

In the last few months, learning to accept gifts, emotional and physical, has been a huge task I've taken on. Not only in the acceptance, but in the belief that I am deserving and it will not necessarily be fleeting. On Monday, I told the shrink that I'm always waiting for the bad to follow on the heels of the good. My belief system cemented into my core is that life teases me and I'm actually meant to live in a world of deprivation.

Cement can be chipped away.

Slowly, I'm accepting. Slowly I'm learning to say thank you without excuses, explanations, etc. Slowly, and this is more difficult, I'm learning the words "you're welcome."

In addition, the trust that is building is also slowly allowing the old beliefs to be broken off to reveal an original heart: the heart of all newborns that know possibility and goodness without the cynicism that life's wounds impart.

Abundance.

Yes, it's still a vicious battle in acceptance but each minute of every day I am aware of the challenge and work toward it with fierceness. I refuse to allow ancient hurts to affect today's joy.

It was a wonderful birthday, beginning with an email that made me cry. In a good way. Each move amazes me more than the last. It fills my heart.

Then a day filled with many well-wishes from east to west. Phone calls, emails, bumping into friends, comments, blogs.

I opted for an overall quiet day which was perfect because I was really tired most of the day. I didn't get out of the house until midafternoon when Auxugen and I planned to hit Septieme for cake from their dessert case. Normally I'm too full from dinner to even enjoy dessert. So today I wanted cake for dinner. Those plans changed a tad when I knew I had to put a little something in my belly before the sugar. But we had dessert! One more last minute switch to marianberry cheesecake instead of chocolate.

Returning home to a couple more phone calls and then I finally went to work at my drawing table. I've been much less social in these last few months. In the solitude I find the drive to paint. It seems to be my path right now.

Not much else to say except it was all wonderful. Tomorrow a birthday brunch with Qnetter, his husband and maybe a few more friends. From there, back to work.

Thank you everyone.

Although a rough morning, it's been smoother sailing since.
(You. Thank you very much.)

Not much to say today but here is some recent work. The first from a couple days ago, and the rest is only a sample of what I've done today.








I think I'll work some more this evening. In the mood.

Uppity Faggot wrote about our meal at Bleu Bistro. I love his use of words.

If you love language, read it. If you're a foodie, read it.

He begins with thoughts on art from a conversation we had that night when he was flipping through my paintings of the last 3 months:

The effect of natural forces upon materials. Finding the new work - like finding a clearing in the woods: footprints and pawprints, sodden leaves, twigs, places wet and places dry, rivulets, droppings, patches of shade and of sunlight, low grass and tall grass, brambles, a condom wrapper, a smear of blood, the bones of a small bird, the smell of rotted wood and of new growth, the sound of one's own breath, the chill air, the things sensed but not seen. One absorbs it and is absorbed. One doesn't ask what it means. One extrapolates meaning from the experience of it. One leaves it and moves to the next.


I've managed to edit the 100 plus shots from that night down to about 15. Here are some that I'm stuck on. There are aspects of each of the three that I love.








And of course...black and white.

My birthday is coming up and I'm not sure how I want to celebrate it. I have a couple plans for later in the month - a party and then a few days later, a very much anticipated extended adventure. But the day stumps me. It's been mulling around in my head and I haven't come up with anything yet.

I'm not bummed about it, or choose to ignore it as in previous years. Maybe it doesn't matter.
What I do enjoy is looking back at the evolution from the last few years around the date. Seeing the internal movement calms me.

Maybe the best celebration would be to give the gift of who I am. Maybe spending the day, working on art for others.


Last night I went to Bleu Bistro with the Bear and the bunny. We tend to forget about the restaurant but each time we actually make it, it's a total delight. Especially last night. It's the quirkiest little place. Awesome food. And the atmosphere rocks.

On the walk over, we bumped into Hoss. Then while eating we noticed Auxugen walking past. At that point there was still lots of food left over. The bunny pulled out his cell and called A, asking him to turn around, join us and eat. Which he did. Fun evening.

It is very dark in the restaurant, and I needed to use the candle on the table to read my menu.

The Bear grabbed my camera and took the photo.



Later, in spite of the darkness, I whipped off over a 100 shots while sitting in my booth. Not only was my belly fed, but my eyes. And my heart. Throughout the evening, while engaging with the guys...I was definitely split in two. I was with them. There. And I was someplace else. Just as strongly.

It's going to take some time to go thru the images, but here are a couple, taken from my booth.




Mark Morford is back with You Say You Want A Resolution -
A new year, a new chance to spank your perspective and pinch the nipples of the divine. Why wait?

Although I'm not into NY resolutions, instead believing that each day is a new day with new opportunities, how can you not love an article that contains:
"What is most meaningful and what is most profound to my heart and what can I do to give that very thing a wet tongue kiss from the divine every single goddamn day?"

And here is Brezsny's Freewill Astrology.

From his weekly newsletter:

"Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the
most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love."
--Delmore Schwartz

Indeed.

This morning I had a therapy appointment. It had been a couple weeks since my last one.
We spoke of questions. Confusion. The unknown.
The lessons I'm working on and where I need to go.

Our session was one of peers this time. The energy had shifted.
At the end of the hour, it was time to book appointments for the next few months. He leads, shooting off dates, and I write. Today was different. The dates he gave me were all two to three weeks apart. In the past when I'd ask for less frequent sessions, he'd get all toppy and mention it wouldn't be wise.

I commented on the amount of time between appointments. He smiled and said I was ready. He reminded me it still won't be easy, which I know. Currently, I'm doing the hardest work I've done to date. Yet somehow, I'm doing it.

My life is getting better and better. With it, there are bigger lessons.

The darkness comes up and I now see it as a cycle that needs to be stepped through. At times, it's exhausting...such as this past weekend. When the pain rose, I said to myself "oh no, not now. I need a break from this."

I knew it would dissipate if I surrendered to it but simply wanted more breathing room before heading into it.

I'm learning that healing has its own time frame.

Allowing the pain to come up when it needs to and becoming more comfortable with mystery and the unknown are my challenges.
That...and trust.

And, it's happening.
Slowly and surely it is working.

Very encouraging.

I fell in love with Cafe Septieme because of its bohemian energy. The dark, blood red walls...the quirkiness, the laidback quality that didn't care what the rest of the world did...


It was a place where I could forget about christmas. The only nod they made to the season was a couple strands of the large, colored bulbs stretched across the ceiling. That was it. And it was perfect.

With the change in ownership, I've watched the Cafe take christmas on. Head on. Each year a little more garish. And no longer the oasis from the holiday. It still in a weird way fits, but not the same personality. Different character.



Everything changes.


Last night was a wonderful evening with friends. Actually the whole evening. I had the opportunity to connect with all those who are in my heart.

Today was a lazy day. Bed too late, up too late. Raining. I curled up in my chair with The Devil Wears Prada.
I'm off this coming week for the holidays, except for a couple hours tomorrow when I go in to process a few year end donations that came in via our website. We split the time off between the staff. That way the office is always manned.

It will be a week of painting.
And stuff.

Have a wonderful new year everyone.