“Chemistry that makes the utterly inappropriate artistic [and sexy] as hell.” That’s my favorite quote right now- it’s from some random dude.
I wish I had something brilliant to say, words that could unlock the doors and open the way for wonderful things to happen. Worry is creeping in, that I will be unable to write anything even remotely witty, unless I can have some great sex soon. Sweaty, panting, maybe some icing involved, and super hot. It feels like I’m becoming one of those uptight beige suburban moms, with no edge or color at all. I’m sure that’s all in my head. I remind myself that I live right in the middle of a thriving city full of artists, and my immediate surroundings are exploding with beautiful colors, forms, creativity of all sorts. I’m increasing my artistic odds by living here, not getting married, not having kids, and going unmedicated. Theoretically, I have a better chance of producing some interesting art and/or writing. In reality, I feel totally, unequivocally stuck. Is this how men are, thinking about sex all the time? It’s completely distracting.
I really like my new friend’s brain, but I’m not attracted to his physical form quite yet. He’s made it very clear that he’s interested in sex. I admit to having a wicked little teasing laugh when I mentioned that I’m in the middle of a year without sex. I finally found the right excuse to keep the dudes away while I debate their merits, it’s perfect. I never quite got the hang of saying no, even when I really wanted to. It didn’t always matter if I did anyway. Now I talk about patience and abstinence and the dudes just melt away when they see they won’t get laid quickly. I know I emit super strong sexual signals, but it doesn’t mean I want to jump into bed with everyone. I do love sex, I think orgasms are fantastic between two or more consenting adults. I understand that not everyone sees it the same way, which is totally tragic. As an artist, I appreciate how great sex can unlock the muse, and all the happy chemicals do wonders for my depression/PTSD. Well, as long as the dude doesn’t trigger anything, which is a whole other story.
Crap, maybe I’ll see if my new friend just wants to play doctor. I would still technically be going without sex, but a little adult naughty play time is exactly what I need. A few big O’s might help things along. I keep hoping that if I push myself hard enough in healthy directions, beyond what I think I can do, perhaps I will finally have another positive mental breakthrough. They are way more fun than the negative ones, so I’m super driven and motivated to go for the +++.
My tarot readings lately have been all about dramatic transformation and I think this is my wish: I want a hemp farm. Not even weed, just hemp. I could write from there, paint, do everything I need, and my soul would have the solace of being out of the city and back in the rural countryside that I miss. The great thing about a farm- and I have it all planned out- there are always a ton of projects and physical labor to keep you busy. And the city is never that far away, plus the internet puts so much of life at your fingertips anyway. I also decided that I should never be isolated, so I would bring people with me, and create a fun community of family and visitors. Artist retreats, cooking weekends, there’s so many possibilities. It gives me a long term goal, the idea of owning a hobby farm someday. I never really had a long term life goal before. I guess there’s something to be said for bottoming out- you have to start everything from the beginning.
I’ve said it before, but here it is again: Reality is not always as fabulous as I expect it to be, dammit anyway, but here’s to the power of love and art for healing. May the positive things we do, change the chemicals in our brain, and change our world for the better.
Do What You Want- Lady Gaga
I Can Dream About You- Dan Hartman
Missing- Everything But The Girl
Oh Lonesome Me- Kentucky Headhunters
Against All Odds- Phil Collins
The Chemicals Between Us- Bush
Mutual Surrender- Bourgeois Tagg
Come And Talk To Me- Jodeci
Use Me Up- Bill Withers