"Hole In My Soul" Apocalyptica Who knew hanging curtains would be so sexy. I'm talking shaking and wet sexy. It's just my 9'x9' she-shed. I have French doors and an entire wall that is a large green house window. The walls are painted a bright orange yellow with the ceiling the color of a sweet citrus orange. Not the soft greens I find relaxing. However these brights oranges have a calming excitement that stirs my creativity. The back wall opposite the French doors has a large and beautiful Buddhist "Tree Of Life" tapestry. The print has lots of greens and blues with blue red accents, hidden in plain site are birds through out the print. The floor is tiled in 12"x12" slate tiles, with a row of black smaller tiles at the entrance; sort of my crossing the line. "Sea Song" (You Waded Out) Apocalyptica Crossing the line. Toeing the line. Point of no return. Each time I enter this space I envision the black tiled row as a "veil" that I'm crossing. The place where magic, delicious energy exchanges, where I free myself of thoughts and solitude to write; it all happens in my studio. The smell of yesterday's incense makes me smile. I have phantosmia, olfactory hallucinations and anything that is burning has the potential to begin to smell like thick cigarette smoke. Unfortunately it can affect incense burning which now has to be burned out of my presence. I smile because the scent is thick enough still I can enjoy it without it turning into a cigarette smoke hallucination. Yesterday, was when the sexy activity took place. Nothing too sexy, I was just in a highly aroused state. Already hanging are brown curtains above the French doors; however nothing to cover the largest window. Even with my dim Christmas tree lights it's bright enough at night to make my activities visible. I get I may have an exhibitionist side, however I don't want my neighbors watching. Time to cover all windows. I installed the brackets with difficulty. My fingers kept fumbling. Dropping the screws. Hard time handling the drill. For one my bad jokes about 'screwing' things in were running amok and my coordination was off. I was shaken and stirred. It's because I'm thinking of him. He calls it my "Fuck Cave". So I'm dressing up the "Fuck Cave" at the same time creating privacy. Up on the step ladder I insert the rod then give myself a pat on the back for having the brackets line up perfectly. "Dead Man's Eyes" Apocalyptica Before coming down from the step ladder, I want to stop and savor this moment. This task I have just about completed is making me wetter. I look down at the soft velvet grey thick foam pad draped with my plush burgundy wine colored heated throw. Glimpses flickering like that of an old film projector are crossing my mind; I'm seeing ghostly activities of future proclivities. What is going to take place here? What will he have me do? What delicious activities and tasks will I venture upon? What fantasies will I have that will cause me to ache and orgasm? Better yet what ravishing rewards will he bestow upon me? My legs weaken at the thought. After I hung my thermal curtains I wanted to honor this sacred space. I didn't want to mindlessly clean this space; I want to be fully present. Graciously and with great respect, I use the broom to sweep and free these beautiful slate tiles of debris. As I straighten and rearrange my shelves, I am caressing each object remembering why I invited them into my space. While lighting the Nag Champa incense I give a silent proclamation to the elements. Earth, I will remember to stay grounded. Air, allow my thoughts to flow just a freely as my breath; with breaths to be that of deep, shallow, panting and catching. Fire, I will continue to discover and respect my passion. Water, I will allow for my emotions to ebb and flow. With that, I turn and thank the space for protecting and for being a place for my creativity and inspiration. "Nothing Else Matters" Apocalyptica It wasn't the project of hanging the curtains, cleaning up, setting up the space or the naughty thoughts of what will possibly transpire in this room that made me feel excited and aroused. It felt like a ceremonial act. I was performing a ritual. A rite of honoring the space, setting intent for an experience and permission to remain creative in exploration. "Forever trusting who we are. No, nothing else matters" "Trust I seek and I find in you Everyday for us something new Open mind for a different view And nothing else matters" Metallica
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May 2023
AuthorReleasing some steam. You should want to know me, not just a woman with pent up passion. Oh yea and you should start this from the beginning. |