• Me,  Words

    A Manifesto for my 63rd year

    I started the piece of writing thinking I was going to make a list of places I wanted to visit and experiences I wanted to have. I guess that will have to wait for another post as this is what came out of the ends of my fingers.

  • Images,  Me,  Object Permanence

    Capturing desire

    I take these pictures to see myself as desirable, to see myself the way others see me, to create desire in myself, for myself. In that respect it is very connected to my creativity. Desire is the engine to my will, the need to connect is the fuel. How do you create desire? Let me know 💋

  • Us,  Words

    Object Permanence

    He’s gone again. It was a Friday morning full of leaving. No matter how hard I try it always fore-shadows the day. I am saying good-bye before I need to, protecting myself from the pain and beginning to wrap myself up in don’t cares and see you soons that sound as hollow as they feel. This time was different. I was monitoring myself, checking in with how I really felt rather than my habitual ways of dealing with separation. The old wounds were still there, I could feel the scar tissue itching. My old habits were waiting in the wings for their cue but centre stage was a clarity of…

  • Moments,  Us

    This is it, this is us!

    He is snoozing in an armchair next to me as the boat engine rumbles away behind us. Fuelling the warm radiators, the hot water, the cosiness we find ourselves in, a week after he joined me. A week after our seven year old long distance relationship transformed into one where we share the same address and go up the stairs to bed together every night. This us started online. It was not meant to become something that would cause us both to unpick fabric we had been weaving with every intention of wearing ’til death us do part. To those that might judge us I would say you cannot judge…

  • us in tent
    Moments,  Us,  Words

    It wouldn’t be enough

    A long time ago, in a small market town, there lived a woman who thought she knew what it was to be loved and that if she didn’t feel loved the problem was with her.  She spent a lot of time adjusting her attitude, practising gratitude, and learning all she could about how to keep her husband and children happy.  Because that was a her role, her aim in life, and her happiness.  She knew this. She also knew that she would die someday and her gravestone would read ‘could have done better’. When she met a man who seemed to offer everything she needed, Who understood her need to…

  • hand on leg
    Words

    When next we meet – I will wear purple

    It’s been 119 days since we met. Since I breathed in your scent at the delicious point where your shoulder meets your neck. Under the crisp collar, a tender spot that lures me everytime we meet to breathe deeply and sigh, and smile. Home I think. Home I feel. This is home, I hear myself saying.

  • a woman with a vibrator between her legs
    #SexySaturday,  Images,  Moments,  Us

    Owning pleasure – an about us post

    I remember it so clearly. I was lying on my bed even though it was lunchtime, I was still wearing my underwear which was also odd as I like to sleep naked. However, I wasn’t there to sleep, I was there for my own pleasure, with a man that wasn’t there, and who also wasn’t my husband. We’d been talking for months, from early spring until this warm summer day. I could hear the cars on the busy road outside, going about their business as if something as if all was normal. So afraid of being caught was I that I wondered how could they not know what I was…

  • Me,  Moments,  Words

    Lessons I have learnt from grief

    Those of you that follow me on twitter will have seen my message about my mum’s death. She became ill with Corvid-19 around a week ago, her nursing home had an outbreak in the corridor of the building her room was on and they locked it down to isolate those people who were ill with it from those that weren’t. In retrospect it hasn’t taken long at all, however it feels like a journey of a million steps from there to here. Mum was comparatively physically robust, certainly when I contrast her with my dad’s frailty of the three years before he died. Her mind was where her fragility showed.…