safe?
“Since when has sex ever been safe? And, if art were safe, it wouldn’t be art.” ~Joanne Ratkowski
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love, worth, and other stuff that can make a girl crazy
Here are a few things I’ve learned these past months/years/lifetimes: Our lovability/worth/value/ is not dependent on: The way we look. How much money we have. The number of people who “like” our page on Facebook. The number of friends on Facebook. The number of people who visit our blog, comment or “favorite” something. Whether our…
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- healing | love | photography | poetry
flickering love dance
blame is a sour boar piercing the heart with fierce tusks of shame creation craves compassion and the flickering love dance of a gentle heart
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- grace | love | mystery | photography | poetry | the delicious now
Axis Mundi
(These words were plucked from the heartstrings of Kenny Alton and the Toric field he created as he gave his Senior Synthesis Presentation at Antioch.) Axis Mundi The red wine warming (and his curls) words of love married with intellect heartspace. A tattooed landscape of masculinity lies before me (the heart is a conscious organ…
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- grace | healing | love | photography | poetry | quotes | self-excavation
the shattering
gargoyles at the doors protecting and defending vulnerable hearts I have been examining my relationship to vulnerability lately and challenging myself to be more open and less guarded in my relationships. It can be hard when one is sensitive to be open. Mine is such a tender heart at times! As painful as the hurt…
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- grace | mystery | photography | pleasure | the delicious now
here
I can’t stop smiling since and then there’s the and the way you time and space are meaningless here. it’s rather lovely there are no weapons it’s like cherry popsicles and puppy kisses it’s like a warm rain and singing around a campfire. it’s like top-shelf tequila and my toes buried in warm sand. it’s…
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- divine | grace | love | photography | poetry | sexuality | the delicious now
homecoming
singing bowl rosewater and tears fingers pressed on tender skin the xx our union burst of sandalwood in moment of surrender candelight shimmering a shower of sweat and whispers of devotion morning light
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