Saturday morning musing…

Futures It looks as if our morning run might be disrupted – sigh. I am a morning person, for me best time to write, observe the world pursuing its business in the garden – ah the crows! -and generally meditate on the state of the planet (still there, still beautiful, and still threatened). This morning a sudden realisation of what a mess my blogs are pushes me to this rambling post.

In the blogosphere (is there such a thing?) some of “us” are very organised, sticking to one location, one book, or more evidently, one general outlook on life, and some solid certainties – may be. Others are, well, like me, or I am more like them. Erm… Very dispersed for a start. No kidding: in this case dispersed over no less than five WP locations and two tumblr ones… Isn’t this madness? Of course there is some logic (po-faced). This place, where I write now, is not the original blog: this honour belongs to the other one, the one I started in the distant year when I withdrew from active service, so-called (giggles in the background). Then came this, and the photo blog which witnesses our travels, discoveries and the odd pic of something worth capturing, in our view. The magnus opus has its own blog – a good thing too – and its aim is to deliver (really?) a first draft at the end of this year!

Coffee is brewed… Ah…

Tumblr comes in two parts, one – Musings – is a collection of mainly pictures and quotes that I have found attractive in my wanderings (I quote friends often there). The other is a piece of risqué writing (definitely 18+ and “NSFW”!) reflecting another type of ambition (or is it obsession?) This leaves the last born, which emerges from my attempt at returning to my own sources, and draws on the multilingual nature of our household. “Sisyphe sur le Rivage” is mainly a comment on some of my favourite spots in French literature dans le texte. Voilà.

Where does that leave the structure of what I want to say? I am not sure there is one, or, if there is, it is in the making: the essence of work in progress. And there lies the pleasure of an endless adventure. At the risk of boring my readers…

Sunshine Award from a Master

Sunshine Award I am tickled pink at receiving the Sunshine Award from a much admired blogger, writer and Dominant Master, Sir Joseph McNamara (@JMcNamara4), grand financier and world traveller who hailed from New-York City and his magisterial fortress. Being in the company of glamorous and talented bloggers such as GeminiswordsPenelope JonesRenee RoseAdaline RaineAna VitskyGreen Eyed GheishaAlice DarkGenevieve Dewey and MariMar makes this award an awesome experience for this timid scribbler.

Thank you for your kind words Sir, I am forever your liege.  I will attempt to answer the shiny questionnaire in a way that does honour the occasion…

Favorite Color: is green, for the meadows of my beloved Dolomites

Favorite Animal: the Salamander

Favorite Number: π

Favorite Non-alcoholic DrinkCoffee

Facebook or Twitter: different things I guess, my central character is on Facebook, just in case

Your Passionmy wife Gorgeous, without her the Universe would be a frozen desert

Giving or getting presents: Books mainly, signs of friendship, signs of love

Favorite Day: February 14

Favorite FlowersEdelweiß

My nominations:

Those friends are a constant source of inspiration and learning for me.  I apologise for nominating for an award already received, as may be the case.

Belinda Witzenhausen, writer and wonderful blogger and artist

Rick Stassi, who knows the way

Leslie Moon, poet and photographer

Louise Hastings, author

Mirabella, inspired, inspiring and a source of wonder

Jim Wright, writer, photographer and observer of life and of his beautiful country, Jordan

Diana Lee, writer, photographer and musician

Ash N. Finn, writer and blogger extraordinaire

Marny Copal, who has raccoons on the deck…

Romantic Dominant, who’s certainly not faded nor fading…

If you want to join in the fun, and continue the process, the rules are to:

(1) Thank the person who gave you the award in your blog post.

(2) Complete the Q&A below in your blog post.

(3) Pass on the award to 10-12 deserving and inspiring bloggers, inform them and link to their blogs.

Daily Prompt: Freaky Friday

If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why? If that seems too easy, try this one: who would you like to have spend a day as you and what do you hope they’d learn from the experience?

You and me You know I want to be you, for a day, for us to exchange our rings, our collars, our devotions.  It may not be easy: the challenge is to try and ignore my “old” self, and for you, yours… For we share more than our love: with intimacy comes the kind of knowledge that goes beyond the familiar, you know what that meant – knowing someone – in the middle ages… So, turning this round, me becoming you, you, me, this will send us spinning – aren’t you afraid?  I am, a little anxious: after all, this is more than reversing roles, it is about being from inside, not merely naked, in front of you, it’s being possessed by you in a way which may not be reversible.  So, if I am to be you, and you, me, for a day, maybe the risk is then for us to chose to stay that way? Are you ready?

#AtoZChallenge: April 17, 2013 ~ (Histoire d’)O

For @Unraveling_Mari

Histoire d'O When it was published in 1954 it was an immediate success spurred by the condemnation of the censors, worthy successors, in their ineptitude, of Lady Chatterley’s judges.

This is the story of O, a born and ingénue submissive to be, who learns the true meaning of openness and acquires the gift of obedience.  Chained, branded, whipped, pierced and transformed she will be, in a now legendary tale told by a woman author – and what author! O is the heroine of this literary introduction to the noble art of love and dominance.  O’s lineage is of course impressive, from the Marquis to Jean Paulhan, Anne’s master…

Pour mes lecteurs francophones…

#WritersWednesday: September 12 – The Greatest Longing

Inspired by Wednesday Writing Prompt, courtesy Amanda L. Webster (@missmandy76)

The Greatest Longing

 He was away for a few days, the first time in nearly a year that they were apart for more than a few hours. On the morning he left she drove him to the airport: “I’ll be back in a sec…” he said to her, holding her high in his arms, his eyes locked into hers. Then he was gone, she got back to their place, suddenly silent.

In their study her pictures were everywhere, they had been editing the book they wanted to publish, soon. He was adamant they should do it, immortalise those precious forms, their intimacy. Her eyes were damp. She walked upstairs to their room, looking at the large bed, still undone, his books left open on the rug, a shirt of his on their chair, and… yes… his collar and hers on the little table. Slowly she showered, without him, on her own, the first time in months. Then she dressed, soberly, jeans, a black T-shirt, her hair in a bun.

Downstairs she got on with cleaning the kitchen, then the lounge. On the terrace she watered their “garden”.  She made coffee, and nearly choked in her mug, as she started crying, finally giving in. How will she cope tonight? Who would he meet at that conference? Will he call her? She thought of timezones, Japan was so far away…

In the evening she knew she would stay awake, waiting for his call. She got a text: turn on the Mac and the camera. He was calling her from his hotel room, on a video link. His face appeared on the large screen, smiling to her, incredibly clear: “First the good news”, he said charmingly, “I am back tomorrow, and expect you there on the dot!” She was now wet with tears and a little aroused. “And now for the very bad news: look at what I found in Tokyo!” He was showing her a little dildo, marvellously chiselled, in a beautiful wooden box covered with Kanji characters. Then his face came closer, his lips so clear, and she embraced the screen, her face flooded with tears of joy.