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Guess what? I'm doing this from my new computer!
I'm still over at the house, having gotten a 3 hour lesson on the differences between Apple and IBM. So that's my quick update. I'll chat with you more after I bring this baby home. See ya!

See what happens? I'm on vacation and I forget stuff. Late last night I realized I didn't post this week's 'scope from Freewill Astrology.

So here you go!

I also realized that I alluded to some positive after effects from the writing exercise I needed to do in my therapy and I had yet to discuss it.

As I did write, it totally wiped me out, emotionally. It literally took about a week to regroup. Now, although it still feels too soon to come up with conclusions, what appears to have happened is a purging. Buttons that would normally have the power to evoke old demons appear to have been diffused. I don't feel the same heart pain I used to, in certain situations or interactions. There is an internal clarity that is...well...fucking refreshing.

After the session where I needed to read my words aloud, I had 2 incidences that provoked old hurts and abandonment stuff. Pain was immediately fierce. As it attacked, I simultaneously had this ability to step back and see what was happening. I knew that I was attaching old stuff to a new situation, therefore I could put the new situation in proper perspective. Granted, it came with many tears and hurt...yet I could detach ghosts from the unintentional provocation.

So I didn't get lost in the pain, yet could really see my way through it. After that, I noticed a freshness surrounding me. It was so cool.

I don't carry the anger in the same way. I feel old wounds differently as well. They are still there, yet I do feel myself embracing the grief instead of fighting against it. And the paradox is as I accept the hurt that is a part of me, I become more peaceful and happy inside. I am developing a pride in my scars.

It was a powerful exercise. And if someone is reading this thinking "I'll try the massive writing of pain", please think twice. I honestly don't recommend it unless you have some professional support that can assist with whatever may arise from writing. Also, I believe it's about timing. Like anything else, it's working through certain steps (unique to each) before other things can be achieved. I'm not discouraging others from doing this, yet want to remind people of context. Everything comes down to personal context.

When I'm with Sir now, I don't confuse his actions or words with those of my dad or mom. Instead, I see and feel Sir.

Going through old emails yesterday, I was once again reminded how we all live life through our own personal filters, comprised of the sum of our experiences. I found myself reading emails and seeing sentences I hadn't seen before. I was mentally censoring emails to fit the context of the hurt I was dealing with instead of the legitimate context of the email. I wasn't really seeing what was there...or what is in front of me. Granted, it didn't happen all the time, yet when something felt similar to old stuff and old pain. Gee I hope that makes sense. It's all clear in my head.
This shows me that if I was doing it with emails, I'd be doing it with people's reactions and words as well. Living with a distorted perception.

There's still hard stuff to go through. But I'm on vacation...in many ways. My therapist has given me a head's up to the next step, yet with no specific deadline. It will happen when it's meant to. And, although I'm currently not looking forward to it, I'll jump in when the time is right. I've worked way too hard to run now. And having this reprieve, seeing and breathing fresh air is a powerful preview of all that's yet to come and is in store for me.

Tomorrow morning I drop off my computer. Apparently beautiful boy is going to take all my information, save it on the house server, then rip out my pc hard drive (for additional storage), and somehow reconfigure it to work with the Mac G3. He said when dealing with computers, bigger is better. Then all my information will be transferred onto the newer unit. The house will retain a copy of my files for a few months, until we are sure everything is running smoothly. Then they can dump the files on their end.

I asked him if he wanted anything for the computer and his time. He smiled and said, "only your eternal gratitude.... and licking my boot, while my other boot is on back of your neck....pressing you into the floor."

I moaned.

Ummmm....yeah. I 'm sure I can manage that. I left the house quite flustered, and excited.

So this evening, I've been going through all my documents and consolidating and saving them. I've then been cleaning out Eudora, and saving whatever emails I want to keep and trashing the rest.

It feels just like moving into a new apartment. Major computer cleaning.

I'm looking forward to learning how to navigate in a new enviroment. The first time I looked at Mac's was back in the early 90's. I couldn't swing the cost, but really wanted one then. And now, it's gonna happen.

While cleaning, I found this link and I don't believe I've posted it here. The page has two works of art. The first by John Singer Sargeant (my god), and if you scroll down, you'll see the second, a painting by Edwin Austin Abbey. It's a hot painting.

Enjoy!

Painting isn't going to happen today. I had an appointment, which ended up stretching into an all afternoon, early evening affair. I needed to get to Capitol Hill for a meeting with a woman who's on the board of the National Gay & Lesbian Task Force in DC. She's also on various boards here in town.

I was running very early for my meeting and stopped by Tattoo'd Bear's shop to set up an appointment for later. My buzzcut is seriously overgrown. For a low maintenance cut, if it's not rebuzzed every 3 weeks at the latest, it looks like hell. But I can deal with that kind of maintenance. And it guarantees that Tattoo'd Bear and I connect at least once a month.

After talking with him, I walked up to Cafe Septieme. I had about 45 minutes before my meeting, and ordered my lunch. At 2 o'clock it was delightfully quiet. I sat, read the paper, and enjoyed my meal.

She showed up and we had an amazing meeting. It lasted over 2 hours and neither of us wanted to leave, yet each had commitments. She wants me to keep all my writings, for a future book. We both spoke of the importance of individual stories. Everyone's stories. We spoke of activism. We spoke of service. We spoke of gender and how categorized everything is. We spoke of sexual orientation. And she asked me about s/m, my Leather training and life. I was running at the mouth...and she quietly listened and would ask more questions as I'd pause. I think I was hungry for this kind of conversation. I gave her tidbits of all my opinions, including the subversive ones. She would like me to still do panels, but respects my preference for one on one. I also told her that time has a way of changing our positions if we are open to it. She got that as well.

Afterwards, I headed back to Tattoo'd Bear's shop because he said he'd squeeze me in. Again, it was like a drop in center. Beautiful boy was there because he had an appointment. Grandpa Troll Don (a name given to this gay man by a little 4 year old girl last year) was there to meet Beautiful boy. The current WA State Mr Leather was also there because his appointment was after beautiful boy's. We've known each other for a couple years now...and he's fun to play with as well.

So it was time for gossip, squeezes, playful teasing and kisses. A couple of the guys are so tall, and I'm not short. I'm 5'8" yet when they are 6 feet plus, they can hug and intentionally do breath control by squeezing my chest.
Two of them hadn't seen my head buzzed yet, and were bemoaning the demise of hair pulling possibilities. I reassured them that if they were creative, they'd find other trigger points. It didn't take them long to make new discoveries.

It was then my turn for a buzz. Sitting in the chair, Tattoo'd Bear begins to use his clippers. I melt. The sound and the feel of his clippers had me on the edge of orgasm. If the joint weren't so crowded or if we were in the Eagle, I would have let go and succumbed.

Returning home, I found out Sir needs help tomorrow. I'll be cleaning the glue off of tiles, before they can be grouted. And then wonder boy called and we spent over an hour on the phone. I'll be doing some catering on Saturday...which is great. The money is definitely needed. My therapy has been sucking my bank account.

Busy day. I want to get up early tomorrow to do a little painting before heading to Sir's. Hopefully it happens. Otherwise, it won't be until Sunday.

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Just found the following on buddybuddy.com.

This type of legal marriage must be forbidden, said the Republican senator from Wisconsin, “simply because natural instinct revolts at it as wrong.”

An organization opposed to this type of marriage claimed that legalizing it would result in “a degraded and ignoble population incapable of moral and intellectual development.”

“I believe that the tendency to classify all persons who oppose XXXX marriage as ‘prejudiced’ is in itself a prejudice,” claimed a noted psychologist.

A U.S. representative from Georgia declared that allowing this type of marriage “necessarily involves (the) degradation” of conventional marriage, an institution that “deserves admiration rather than execration.”

“The next step will be (the demand for) a law allowing them, without restraint, to … have free and unrestrained social intercourse with your unmarried sons and daughters,” warned a Kentucky congressman. “It is bound to come to that. There is no disguising the fact. And the sooner the alarm is given and the people take heed, the better it will be for our civilization.”

“When people (like this) marry, they cannot possibly have any progeny,” wrote an appeals judge in a Missouri case. “And such a fact sufficiently justifies those laws which forbid their marriages.”

These types of marriages are “abominable,” according to Virginia law. If allowed, they would “pollute” America.

In denying the appeal of this type of couple that had tried unsuccessfully to marry, a Georgia court wrote that such unions are “not only unnatural, but … always productive of deplorable results,” such as increased effeminate behavior in the population. “They are productive of evil, and evil only, without any corresponding good … (in accordance with) the God of nature.”

A ban on this type of marriage is not discriminatory, reasoned a Republican congressman from Illinois, because it “applies equally to men and women.”

Attorneys for the state of Tennessee argued that such unions should be illegal because they are “distasteful to our people and unfit to produce the human race.” The state Supreme Court agreed, declaring these types of marriages would be “a calamity full of the saddest and gloomiest portent to the generations that are to come after us.”

Lawyers for California insisted that a ban on this type of marriage is necessary to prevent “traditional marriage from being contaminated by the recognition of relationships that are physically and mentally inferior,” and entered into by “the dregs of society.”

“The law concerning marriages is to be construed and understood in relation to those persons only to whom that law relates,” thundered a Virginia judge in response to a challenge to that state’s non-recognition of these types of unions. “And not,” he continued, “to a class of persons clearly not within the idea of the legislature when contemplating the subject of marriage.”

All of these quotes refer to interracial marriage, views of race, and the “proper” interaction between the races. They date from 1823-1964 and were culled by reporter Eric Zorn from a Boston University Law Review article and a brief filed with the U.S. Supreme Court. Zorn’s article was published in the Chicago Tribune, May 19, 1996.

Paint!

I did!

And god did it feel good. The last time I painted was 16 months ago, the day before Sir became ill.

Going into the studio I already knew what I wanted to work on first. I currently have about 6 paintings in my head, but I began with a portrait. Sir's face. While painting, it hit me that this is the first time I've painted since He fell sick. This piece is definitely appropriate, and a healing of sorts.

I worked fast, not wanting to think too much. It was more about laying in the architecture and covering my canvas with paint, blocking in the lights and darks. So on my palette I squeezed out alizarin, sap green and ultramarine blue. I know alizarin and sap green are fugitive colors, but I so love the neutrals they create. They've become a standard fixture on my palette for the last 8 years. Mixing them is where my black and darks come from. I put out a titch of white, to allow for different hues. And then a little yellow ochre. I began laughing when I stepped back to look at my painting because my goal for today was essentially a very minimally toned painting. Lights and darks. I wasn't going to worry about color. With these 4 colors and the white, I again came up with a full spectrum of warm and cool colors. And some of them glowed.

See what happens when we open up?

It's not complete, but off to a smashing start. I'm pleased. I have very little experience with portrait painting, so I'm even more conscientious about measuring. You can fudge with still lifes and landscapes. But if the proportions are off with a portrait, it just ain't gonna look like your subject. This actually looks like Sir. I'm very encouraged. It's a good day.

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Guess what? I'm going to begin painting later today. Taking it slow, I want to at least get in the studio and do something. Warm-ups, you know?

I just found out that (if the conversion goes well), I will be getting a free Mac g3 computer! Beautiful boy emailed me last night with the offer.
It's not a laptop, but that's okay. I currently have a pentium II that's been getting crankier and more ornery. Just think. I'm finally joining the Apple age! Totally thrilled. Saturday I drop off my cpu and monitor at the house, and he'll do the transfer as well as attempt to add a second hard drive...using my current one I think. I didn't ask for details...as long as it all works.
Beautiful boy is a serious geek boy, and I trust him.

Saturday I will be assisting with a catering job so it is a good time to do the computer swap. And I will pick up my new unit Sunday morning at some point. Yes!

And now....here's a fabulous article, The Love That Killed America, by Mark Morford, a SF Gate columnist. In addition to the link, I'm including the piece in its entirety. I'm not sure what happens to it regarding archiving.


The Love That Killed America
As gay marriage wins even more legal support, Bible-clutching homophobes recoil, violently

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist Wednesday, November 19, 2003

The gays are marching in. The end is near. Sheer unadulterated evil and scary anal sex and superlative hair products and new blasts of fresh happy love are to be unleashed anew upon the country. Horror is nigh. Everyone into the bunker.

This is, apparently, the prevailing sentiment. This is, according to a new poll, the majority response in America to the increasingly successful gay-marriage movement, even as states and the law move more and more aggressively toward proving that banning gay marriage is unconstitutional and immoral and just plain stupid.

People are terrified. Religious people, in particular. Hyperzealous, evangelical, white, borderline fanatical religious people who apparently don't see a lot of sunlight and never read books and believe everything their homophobic intolerant Bible-spouting evangelical pastor and maybe Ann Coulter say, even more particularly.

The nation is not ready for gay marriage. This is the sad news. Even as homosexual people in love celebrate the latest huge victory in Massachusetts' state Supreme Court in support of gay-marriage rights, an enormous and quivering chunk of the BushCo-voting nation cowers in inexplicable horror.

And almost every one of them is vowing, right this minute, to vote for Bush in the next election, if for no other reason than because he's a none-too-bright born-again Christian who will protect them from those icky homos and will invoke God's name as it's supposed to be invoked -- you know, as justification for launching ultraviolent bloody hate-filled unwinnable wars over petroleum and corporate power.

The nation is not ready. Even gay rights advocates are worried, as the issue is simply moving and evolving too quickly for the dread-filled, God-fearing, war-drunk nation to absorb.

And, verily, the fear among the gay community is that the issue's amazing momentum could backfire, could divide the nation even more violently and drive more confused citizens straight into the fearmongering tentacles of the hate-filled Right.

It does not matter that gay marriage is so obviously no threat whatsoever to "traditional" marriage or the sanctity of uptight pseudo-Christian missionary-position Budweiser-fueled sex and the spawning of more Republican babies.

It does not matter that gay marriage could, in fact, be the savior of the institution of marriage in this nation in how it gives new life, new breath to our beleaguered notions of love and commitment and family, considering the relentless 50 percent divorce rate among happy heterosexuals.

This is a nation that still, despite its incredibly diverse range of religious belief, despite its array of progressive cities and universities, despite how every nuanced soul anywhere on the planet understands that love is not to be contained by rigid legislation and sanctimonious bile and pious narrow mindedness (hey, just ask the Taliban), this is a nation that still wraps itself in the blind and dangerous cloak of a few misinterpreted, regurgitated lines of the Bible as justification for bashing gays and remaining completely ignorant as to uncontainable energies of love and commitment. It's true.

Of course, at this point it seems completely useless to point out to the America's misguided homophobes that if you really want to follow the Bible that closely, why, we can easily justify, say, incarcerating unmarried single mothers. Or burning pagans. Or imprisoning Buddhists or Rosicrucians and members of that weird cult Tom Cruise and John Travolta are into.

After all, the Bible has been used to justify slavery. And misogyny. And oppression. And racism. And genocide. And Pat Robertson. For centuries. And it still is.

Half the nation still actually believes gays can change their sexual orientation if they really want to. Most still feel homosexuality is a serious sin. And, perhaps most depressingly, the poll found that the higher the level of one's religious commitment, the more bitterly, violently opposed one is to gay marriage and new definitions of love.

Ironic, isn't it? It's a global truism: The more passionately religious you are, the more hateful and small minded you become, and the more desperate you are to convince everyone else that Satan himself is at the door, carrying nothing but a whip and a sinister grin and a big bottle of Astroglide.

But here is the good news: In the long term, this bilious national recoil does not matter. The writing is on the wall. The cracks are appearing all over the homophobic armor. The national whining, the fear, the hate, the resistance, are only a necessary and entirely predictable pothole, a typical reflex, a painful wart on the big toe of progress.

After all, huge and violent were the protests from angry, terrified citizens when blacks were first allowed into white schools. Enraged and horrified were many powerful white men when women were finally given the right to vote. Shocked and outraged were the orangutans when humans first began to walk upright.

There is no significant change, no progress, without much impassioned puling from those who refuse to open their hearts, and minds, and thighs.

And the good news is, the sadly misguided citizens of America who are right now raging against homosexual love, well, they are indeed in for a number of big surprises in the coming decades, as their world of intolerance and fear crumbles, and as a new, more open minded generation emerges. To be sure, in the near term the controversy and the backfirings and the right-wing spew will be painful and obnoxious and sad. But, hey, you gotta start somewhere.

And, verily, to believe that the energy of love and devotion can occur only between a man and a woman, that the only acceptable definition of this most universal and timeless and unfathomably powerful of emotions can only exist between a penis and a vagina, well, perhaps this is the ultimate insult, the nastiest sin against true divinity.

The first day of my autumn vacation

-slept in (until all of 7:30)
-had a cup of ginger peach tea
-checked email, surfed and vegged out
-went out for coffee (it always tastes better when made by someone else, except Denny's that is)
-purchased groceries
-vegged lots more
-cooked my first fun dinner (something that wasn't fully frozen or came out of a can or box in over a year...see what exhaustion can do?) gorgonzola & walnut tortellini served with barely wilted spinach and sauteed garlic...

-and got lost in this:
an ongoing blog written by Crystal, a young homeless woman in the Boston area. Here you can find her bio which explains how she became homeless.

In this very full site I found one great idea on how to lend a hand to homeless folks.

Through reading I learned much more about homelessness and how I do believe that most of us, including myself, are fairly ignorant regarding this problem. We think of the stereotypes. I see them every morning on my way into work. I see the homeless street kids each time I'm on Capitol Hill. I see the intersections where someone is standing with a cardboard sign, hoping for some act of kindness. I see what used to be an empty doorway that for the last two weeks is now claimed as a regular sleeping spot for a gentleman. These are the visible folks. From this woman's journal, I learned more about the invisible homeless. Those who hop from couch to couch, relying on the kindness of friends. Those who may sleep on the streets or the shelter, yet have somehow found the money to have a PO Box and can then access extra services. Those who may have jobs or are students, and yet still can't afford a roof over their heads.

The Boston Globe ran an article in July on Crystal. (I'm linking to the full article which she reprinted in her site)

I found her site through 'Homeless Guy'. I've had him bookmarked for a while, but never really checked his links until tonight.

Back to things we can do. Bear with me. Here's the train of thought that evolved.
I was thinking about her post on feeding the homeless, and thought about all the volunteering that many in the leather community do. My mind then went to all the community service that remains within the kink realm. I then wondered about powerful opportunities for activism that can come from the act of serving outside of kinkworld.

Go out of our comfort zones, into other communities and assist where we can. Be it folding newsletters for an AIDS mailing, or hospice work such as Nunsequitur is doing, or even taking the time to answer the phones for a couple hours for an overtaxed and stressed small non-profit. Provide childcare so a parent can get away from the house for a little bit. As we get to know those people we assist, they slowly begin to see us as more than a stereotype. And human interaction is the most powerful path to change. It's slower. It's a one on one method, not grand and sexy like protests and conferences. But it's substantial.

I believe we are creatures meant for service. All of us. And service can come in unlikely shapes. Nunsequitur has a beautiful entry he wrote on service.

Anyway, that's the first day of my vacation.
And Crystal is still on my mind.

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It's raining and a perfect day to do nothing. The leaves outside my window are glowing. Cloudy, wet days in the fall are the perfect frame for showing off foliage. Love it.

My body is thrilled to have nothing on the books today. And my mind keeps saying "you should be doing...." until I remind myself I don't need to be doing anything, anything except getting a coffee, and do a bit of food shopping.
I'm on strike today.

A good friend called me last night, and asked if I could help him out tonight for a little bit. He also reminded me that he wanted me to feel free to say no if I had to. I really wanted to help, especially because I haven't seen him in a while. But I had to say no. I felt bad turning him down...because I don't say no often. I can't imagine helping anyone right now. It's girlfag time.

I'm looking forward to getting to a place where I'm relaxed, not recuperating from being sick, not regrouping from intense therapy, and not catching up on rest from having worked hard, yet relaxed as an 'is'...a state of being. At least for a little while.

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This just came through about 20 minutes ago.....news to wake up to: Massachusetts court rules ban on gay marriage is unconstitutional

Now the next battle is headed for the legislature.

From the article:
Beyond that, they (the plaintiffs) argued that nothing in the state statute dictates that marriage be restricted to a man and a woman. The only restrictions, they said, are that couples cannot be closely related by blood, must be of appropriate age, must have passed certain blood tests, and must be willing to pay a license fee.

In each case, the plaintiffs met those requirements.

The state's Attorney General's Office, which defended the Department of Public Health, argued that neither state law nor its constitution created a right to same-sex marriage. Furthermore, the state's lawyer argued, any decision to extend marriage to same-sex partners should be made by elected lawmakers and not by the courts.

"Although there are also legitimate policy arguments for affording same-sex couples some or all of the benefits now more readily available to married couples, those arguments should be addressed to the Legislature, which ... is the body best suited to decide whether, when and how to make such a radical change in Massachusetts law," the state wrote in a brief.

I'm finally on vacation!!!

My light day of about 4 hours (delusions, delusions), turned into a 10 hour day. And I really haven't had a day off in about 8 days. Last night I was zonked out by 9 pm. I'm way pooped.

But, tomorrow I get to sleep in, and I have no plans whatsoever, except run to the coffee shop for a good latte. Wednesday, I plan I working in my studio for a bit, and on Thursday I have a meeting with someone who's been pushing me to do workshops and/or panels on gender/sexual orientation stuff. I refused a few months back, but we'll spend time together and really talk. I still don't plan on doing anything publicly...because I'm not even sure what or how or if it would even be interesting. But this woman simply wants me to tell my story regarding how gender and sexual orientation aren't as linked as we've been brought up to believe. I figure my 'never' is only never for this moment. Maybe one day I'll do it. In the meantime, there will be good conversation.

My therapist graciously let me out of my Thursday appointment. I mentioned I didn't want to have more buttons pushed while I'm on my break. I'm emotionally tired...and I want to rest. He understood, and had me promise that I would be working in my studio.

I'm looking forward to 2 weeks of relaxation, painting, walking, and getting together with a few friends that I haven't had time to spend with. And I'm totally looking forward to begin really writing again, and posting little things and larger ideas.

I need to contact a certain boy who called me out of the blue a couple weeks back when I was sick. He wanted to come by and spend a day taking care of me, but I needed to get to work that day. Wicked bummer, eh? I loved the offer. We first met a few years back, both locked in individual cages in the dungeon. We spent the better part of a day locked up, talking and jacking off. That's how we got to know each other. I've seen him a few times since, and they've always been good groping and pain times. So I believe it's my turn to call cageboy.

And now...a hot bath is calling my name.

Wow.

I just walked in the door a little while ago and I'll be in bed very early tonight. It's been an amazing weekend. I don't want to be a tease, but I can't talk about it. Two extremely full days of images and ideas. I'm exhausted...quite excited yet saturated. Last night I got home, too tired to eat but forced food down, and hit the sack by 10 pm. This evening will be the same.

Tomorrow is my last day before vacation and I plan on making it a short work day.

Talk with you tomorrow.

Hey folks.

This is going to be a very short entry. Yesterday was quite busy. For the first time in 3 weeks I miraculously remained highly focused and managed to complete difficult projects. Monday's my last work day before my vacation and I wanted to keep that day to complete the lighter things on my list. Then, I'm off for two weeks. Painting!!!! I'm pretty excited to begin.

I'm headed out the door, and will be gone most of the day. I'm assisting Sir all day today and tomorrow. So you may or may not hear from me tonight.

And, I do have something exciting to share with you, regarding one of the aftereffects of that writing exercise. But, it will need to wait. Time to jump in the shower and then out the door.

Today's Zen thought from my little calendar:

By your stumbling, the world is perfected. - Sri Aurobindo

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Haven't gone away. And since Sunday, I still feel kind of empty inside. It's not a depressed feeling. Overall, I'm clearer and lighter yet remain spent.

Yanno that writing exercise I did on Sunday? On Tuesday, my therapist requested I read it aloud to him. I still cringe thinking about it. The piece was essentially all stream of consciousness writing. It laid me bare. Pages and pages of naked pain. 16 fucking pages filled with 10 point type. Tough enough to actually write and harder yet to vocalize to another. It took almost the whole session to read it. We had 10 minutes left for discussion...and well...vulnerability and rawness still sit with me.

I haven't deserted you, but this is where I am.

Sushi and sex?

This is where feminists piss me off. They are upset at what's happening at this restaurant, but from what I read..this appears fully consensual. So what's the big deal?

I believe feminism is about having the CHOICE to do what we want. What I see in feminists out there (and yes, I'm generalizing), is how they do a great job at keeping women in victim mode.

I may disagree with someone's choice, knowing it wouldn't be my choice, but why aren't we celebrating the fact that someone is actually making something happen?

Why don't we simply allow others their own personal vision?

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Whoa...

...I wonder.
Although I feel good about where the money went, if we promised Kroc to have McDonald's cater our meetings forever...you think they'd be as generous with our organization?

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A teenage hanky code ?

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I just got home from my therapist's, after stopping back at work to say I'm cutting out for the last couple hours of the day. Sunday's exercise was incredibly powerful. I'm touching dark recesses and it's all positive. But I don't have anything to give anyone right now.

Talk with you later.

Huh. That exercise was interesting to say the least. If I'm sounding flat it's because, well...I feel pretty spent.

Yesterday afternoon I sat down to write. And other than a quick get up to nuke some food, I stayed put for 3 hours, typing away.

Without going into specific details, here's some stuff about the process.

I found myself hesitant to begin. And when I did, the first paragraph was like a preface, although I prefer the term procrastination. I noticed that I could matter of factly write about old hurts and betrayals without too much of a problem. But, that really wasn't the intent. It needed to be written as if I writing to the people who I felt hurt me. Walls again went up. Changing my focus turned it into a whole different scene. I repeated my words but this time to a specific person and immediately my face was wet. I cried all the way through but didn't stop writing. 6 pages and an hour later that section felt done.

I needed a short break and went onto my deck for air and then heated up food. Sitting back down I found myself to be at a loss for words. But I would type whatever came into my head. Little by little, I found myself writing, "I remember...", and then the next paragraph, "I remember..."

Nothing was a new memory, just stuff coming back to me in that moment. About page 13, I felt done. Yet I was hesitant because I knew it was quite short of 20 pages. Now, I was into the spirit not the letter of the exercise so if it took more than 20 pages, so be it. And, if it was less than 20 that would be okay too.

Even though it felt complete something was nagging at me. I remember hearing that someone else didn't begin to get real until page 13 or 14. And I was concerned that maybe I unconsciously put up a block. So, I wrote some more. I figured it couldn't hurt. Either it would be jibberish with lots of repeating sentences, which would mean I can stop, or something would evolve.

Well...I did push through and new insights (not memories) but insights which tied everything together came to light. It was a powerful experience.

I ended up with 16 full pages, and that felt real. I emailed the document to my therapist, and we'll discuss it at some point. I haven't reread it. Tiredness came over me and for the next couple hours all I could do was lay there, in that space where you want to nap but you're not quite there yet.

What I'm becoming aware of is sometimes it doesn't take much to hurt a kid. Many times, it's done unintentionally. The younger the child, the less dramatic the incident needs to be. Sometimes a pattern of thought can do it. I believe this is just a part of living. We all encounter stuff that will wound. At some point it's time for us to each be responsible for healing those hurts. You may need to communicate with the person you feel hurt you, and other times, it's totally not appropriate to do so, yet instead find ways of working thru it within yourself.

Hot leather action, huh? I think it is, by the mere fact that I am a leather person, and it's not strictly about how I fuck but who I am. Our past affects our interactions which in turn affects how we play in the dungeon. Sir taught me it's all an expansion of training.