What I Really Want…

I want it.


Glorious, hot, sweaty sex.

I want distraction.

I want to forget.

I want to feel different.






Like I crave.

Forever craving things I constantly deny myself.

Tired of abstinence.

Tired of being scared.

Tired of counting all my blessings.


Happiness Is A Henry

I have been doing my usual perusal of magazine fodder today when the main feature of the latest edition of  New York magazine caught my eye.

One of the Roxy Music tunes playing most constantly in my mind as I continue to explore, get engrossed by and positively hooked upon their early sound is “In Every Dream Home A Heartache”. How the song begins with the architecture of desire…the dream home…the concept, its look, its fitting within culture and then descends into unfulfilled sexual desire with a (what they were known as in Australia when I was growing up) a Suzi doll.

The most intrigue I had with the article was the view from the female perspective. A woman journalist was taking the visit to the “sexbotics” plant to meet new prototype, Henry. There is still this stigma and taboo attached to female desire for sex. That, somehow we don’t desire it ourselves. That we are either coerced or forced. And heaven forbid a woman should desire sex as much as men do. That women should work in the porn and sex industries WILLINGLY, etc.

Only recently I saw a brief video in which a lady was interviewed about her sex addiction. I can’t imagine having to suffer that endless scorn. Men are almost REVERED for having a sex addiction or admitting to one…perhaps at least just dismissed with an air of, “he’s a bloke! What do you expect? They think with their dicks anyway.” But a female sex addict? Yep. I had all the empathy in the world for that lady. It took guts to talk about so openly in the public domain. Deep respect to her.

I found the article fascinating. As for asnwering the question writer Allison P. Davis answered…would I? You bet ya sweet bippy I would! Hello, Henry 😉

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Birds, abstracts….abstract humans, possibly….but NOT anyone specific…that’s what I’m learning.

I always want to try and draw on a really crap day…thinking it’ll make me feel better. Doing some art, being creative…and then it just ALL FALLS APART.

I thought I had a niche. I don’t.

I blag “talent”.

I want to believe in myself but I feel I have no real artistic ability whatsoever.


Green Woodpecker!!!

I genuinely feel overwhelmed. Something is happening to me. I don’t understand it. I don’t know how this has happened. I don’t know WHERE it’s coming from…how it got here…what it is. 

I hated art class at school because I sucked at it. I couldn’t draw to save my life and by the time I was in my teens, my skills hardly improved from when I was 5 or 6! Well, that is how it felt, anyway. All the other kids seemed to show SOME KIND of advancement in artistic skill. Not I!

And NOW?! Just…WHAT IS THIS? From being not able to draw ANYTHING well to THIS?!!


Starling – In Summer Plumage

Very hard to achieve that iridescent gloss they have to their feathers…esp. with what is essentially watercolours…but I am much happier with this one today. Sadly, I seem to actually have BETTER control without the stylus. Ho hum! I’m AMAZED I can do bird eyes so well! Their legs on the other hand… :-/

Practice, practice, practice! And patience! I need patience! I tend to rush too much :-/ I need to calm my sh*t down! Lol

Being Arty Again…

Another day, another bird…