Take your lust-laced musings for a walk
Amid my swelling mounds of Venus,
And feel the mighty surge of the Aphroditic tides
Squalling forth from the twilight
Trapped between my quaking shuddering limbs.
Let my Aeolian murmurs dance upon the top of your head
And your shoulders
As your moans get tangled in fractaled folds
Of my glistening moon-steeped love
~~~
👽❤xoxoxo❤👽
A little flash of flesh
To coax the flash flood
Flowing from within
My unfathomable folds
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I dripped spirits across my breast
So that you could sup upon the succulent flesh
Pulled taut across my trembling boneframe.
Marry my blood to the wine
Between your parched lips
And merge them within you
Like subtle bodies uniting
In the Aether.
~~~
👽❤xoxoxo❤👽
Last week, I had a vision
Of dripping moons
Pouring painted viscous light onto the surface
Of a strange planet…
A planet where up is down
And down is up,
Where mountains are reversed caverns,
And dormant caves are soaring volcanoes teetering on total obliteration,
A planet that breathes
And bleeds
And crashes into itself
When all of the liquid moons are full.
Three moons dripping
Enigmatic utterings and illusions
Which burn up the moment they touch the skin of this living yearning planet.
Nothing stays hidden
Or forgotten
In the Land of the Dripping Moons
Where my skin is the surface
And my heart its burning spinning core.
“The Land of Dripping Moons”
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I feel your whispers between my legs,
Against the gauzy material hiding my pulsating jewel,
Against the outer curves of my quivering thighs,
All along the flaring lines of my gyrating hips.
I feel your whispers there,
And your saliva
Pooling at the dip of my waist
And the mouth of my pussy.
Pull the lace away from my dripping cavern,
And lick me until you’ve made me
Fall apart
Before your adoring eyes
And gaping mouth.
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I love the outdoors.
Obviously.
I went snowshoeing in the country during my Christmas vacation,
And sometimes, I like to get a little bit naked–
Top half only–
In the winter.
I did the same thing last year:
Stripping in the woods,
Taking photos,
Pressing my breasts into fresh fluffy snow,
Feeling it melt into ice cold beads on my warm flesh.
It feels delicious and carnal
And a little bit naughty,
Like a secret meeting
Between me and the trees and the snow drifts surrounding me
In my almost nakedness.
Hearing snowmobiles in the near distance adds a little bit of thrill into the mix.
It is hilarious how quickly I throw my clothes back on when I hear them getting closer…
Even though they could probably never get to where I was standing,
As the snow was almost too deep even for snowshoeing.
But of course,
That didn’t stop me from venturing out
Into the wilds
Of the forest,
And of my own sensuality
And fevered eroticism.
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
Some people are busy making resolutions for 2020,
And getting gussied up for fancy parties and whatnot.
Not me. Nope.
I am celebrating the end of the decade
By pressing my boobies into the snow
Then eating… snow….
…
Just keeping it weird…
Right into the next decade.
*** Christmas was draining, and left me feeling like shit for a few days. I went snowshoeing today, and it was very restorative. Obviously, I created a little fun for myself. ***
Happy New Year, fellow oddities!
🥂🍾❤👽xoxoxo👽❤🍾🥂
She crawled up the length of the bed, tore her glasses off, and stared deep into his smoldering dark eyes where she could see her own reflection:
Animalistic;
Mischeivous;
Saliva-kissed blood red lips;
Star-bright icicle eyes;
“Have I been naughty or nice this year?” She asked with a feigned coyness only she could pull off.
“What do you think?” He replied, his words infused with a grin and an eye roll.
“Right…” she replied as she reached under the bed, pulling out a little many-tailed whip. “Better get crackin’ then… if you want to reformat me for next year…”.
His grin fell from his lips as he took the whip in his weathered hands,
“Assume the position,” was all he said as he hulked over her curvy little body, a body all sin and sweetness and everything in between.
~~~
🌲👽❤xoxoxo❤👽🌲
I love making chocolate confections at Christmastime.
I put a lot of love into each batch,
And I wholeheartedly enjoy the candy-making process…
Maybe a little too much,
As my photos may suggest.
Singing Christmas carols (and fucking up the lyrics) while melting the dark chocolate in a bain marie.
Crushing candy canes with a hammer… which helps with holiday anxiety.
Chopping up Swiss milk chocolate to sprinkle on the melted dark chocolate spread cross parchment paper, along with the candy cane pieces and toasted pecans.
Then melting white chocolate to flick and splotch onto all of that layered sticky sweet deliciousness.
I always make sure to taste test the final product…
Which never ceases to make me
Groan with the kind of pleasure
Only a handmade chocolatey confection can.
***Taste-testing occurred only after the final product was made. No nipple or saliva was included in the featured chocolate bark.***
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! 🍾🥂
🤶❤👽xoxoxo👽❤🎅
Plunge your voice into me,
Penetrate me with your verbs,
And all of the tainted musings sullying your thoughts.
Stab my heart with salacious soliloquies,
Spank me with stinging sentences,
And make me bend beneath the power of your wanton words.
Brand me with your poetry,
As I drip
And flood
And spray,
Leaving behind a damp trail
Of voraciously lustful verses
Written by you
But published within me.
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I am still experimenting with mixed media;
Sometimes experiments fail,
And sometimes they don’t.
I guess I succeeded… because I like what I created.
It’s good to try new things.
I don’t think I will ever tire of playing in paint and using my titties to make art…
Or whatever you wanna call it…
But I will always find new challenges to keep me aroused and excited
To create,
To express what is hidden,
To bring to light what has been obscured by darkness.
Many of you know how much I love trees.
I also adore the moon,
And have been worshipping her since my early teens,
When I abandoned Catholicism
For a more pagan way of being,
Which is my natural spiritual setting.
Jeez… I didn’t think I would bring religion into this,
But I guess it was flitting about in my subconscious.
It is highly amusing to me how hidden, repressed issues always find a way out into the open;
Art seems to be the most effective conduit.
So, here you have “Moon + Tree = Together 4 EV-R”.
It’s ok. It’s a start. I can only get better and more refined, right?
When I look back to February 2019 when I started this weird kinky art project of painting with body parts,
I never imagined what I would create,
I never imagined that I would actually become an artist of sorts.
But then again,
I have always been an artist…
Of sorts.
~~~
Thank you all for your enduring and unwavering support. It means the world to me. 💜💜💜
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I want to see you drip and drool,
And salivate diamonds
Into my heaven-laced pussy.
Put your face between my thighs
And let me bring you to your
Trembling knees.
Know that your place
Is where my waves ebb and flow
And the sea meets the moon-greedy sky.
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
Spark it up
And feed me that mystical smoke
That loosens my loins
And my cerebral leanings.
Suffer a little break from yourself,
And give me a break from me,
And take a little morning trip
Up the vaginal canal of my hilarity-infused juicy imaginings.
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I still feel your heated and hushed words against my dew-licked skin.
Flame-scorched whisperings that blow cold the burning beads of sweat curling down the dreamscape of my body,
Sending chills up and down my spine,
And right into the living marrow of my ghostwhite bones.
There is no place for a mind in times like this,
No place for thought,
For sense,
No place for doubt,
Or for time;
We exist on a timeless, senseless plane,
And I am content to abandon the density of this earth for the Light
Of a higher realm.
I lost my head the moment you opened your mouth upon me,
And fed your utterings and divine growlings into my soul.
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I was listening to a song by The Cocteau Twins.
They’re an interesting duo,
With ethereal voices and transporting verses.
A song I hadn’t heard before was randomly selected for me as I was listening to some 80s/early 90s tunage a couple of weeks ago.
The lyrics intrigued me…
Because they made so little sense on a logical level;
Somehow I felt them,
And understood them on a deeper, ineffable level.
But the title just said it all —
It had managed to sum up my entire mood as of late.
I knew at the very moment I read the title and started listening that I had to make a painting that felt just like that title.
To me at least.
This is “Cherry-Coloured Funk”… inspired by the song of the same name by the Cocteau Twins from the album “Heaven or Las Vegas”.
I tried something different this time.
I have always enjoyed collage, since I was 13.
I was hit with a bolt of inspiration, and it appears that I am moving in a new direction where my art is concerned.
I am just going with it.
But I still love pouring paint all over my body, and feeling it slide over and around my wavey curves.
It makes me feel like my body is very much a part of my art.
That makes me so happy.
So I guess I am pulling myself out of my own cherry-coloured funk.
(Lyrics by The Cocteau Twins)
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
It is getting darker earlier now.
We are swiftly approaching the shortest day of the year.
Sometimes we feel uncertain whether or not the light will return to us,
And restore our hope that the darkness is temporary,
And that the balance will be restored.
That uncertainty can be crippling;
It makes you want to sleep and sleep and sleep,
And cry and cry and cry,
And blame the world,
The universe,
Everyone but ourselves,
For our deepest wounds and miseries.
That’s why when it is the darkest it has ever been,
Inside and outside of ourselves,
We must create our own light,
And lightness.
And stop being such little cry-baby bitches.
Weave, splash, write, paint your own light…
Or die trying.
This one’s called “Festival of Light”… because that is just what we need to light up our darknesses.
👽❤xoxoxo❤👽
Coiled lightning bolts;
Crushed thunder claps;
Inverse volcanic ejaculation;
Crossed hurricane eyes;
All beneath my quivering percussive drum-tight skin.
With collapsed lungs and stolen breath,
Choking on lament and eternal shade,
I am writhing and grabbing
And clawing and squeezing
The errant parts and pieces
That refuse to stay coiled and crushed and compressed.
Things are collapsing and expanding,
And the skin stretched over my heart is crazing and cracking
Under the pressure.
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
I needed purple for this particular energetic composition.
I needed something to soothe my soul,
To scare off the demons,
And to awaken my curiosity;
Did you know that the colour purple doesn’t really exist?
Our mind invents it.
Just like it invents all other sorts of lies,
Like the following:
You are not good enough as you are.
That’s the worst one, that.
It bleeds into every aspect of one’s being.
It poisons all that it touches,
and turns it to gall.
It takes wild minds and souls,
And breaks them.
Makes them do all sorts of things
To hide,
To conform,
To change for others,
To fulfill obtuse and limiting definitions,
To fit into boxes.
Believing that lie is a losing battle.
The only lie you should believe
Is purple.
~~~
These paintings are not entirely art. Each one releases and brings to the surface an experience requiring further examination and a moment of compassion, forgiveness and unconditional love, for self and for all. I use my body as palette and paintbrush as it is the locale through which we experience our life and all of the thoughts, emotions and sensory phenomena that come with it.
I sometimes ask myself why I need to show my body to the world in this manner. I could give you some long-winded hippie dippie spiritual spiel, but I will spare you the boredom, and condense that answer into a single sentence: Because it is fun. When I dig deep, past my own self-judgment, that’s the long and short of it.
Yup.
So, I call this “Purple Nurple” because it rhymes and I felt rhyme-y, and because aggressively twisting the nipples of those who pass judgment on others for being whoever or whatever they are seems amusing and satisfyingly sadistic without being overly cruel.
Hope it tickles you purple!
👽❤xoxoxo❤👽
Come and curl up inside of me.
I just stoked the fire,
And tongues of flame beckon you
Into the inferno of my cinder-dusted arms.
~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
Pluck my strings
And transform me into your instrument of longing.
Play me like your fiddle,
And make me reel and tremble as you conjure music with my moans.
Compose me like a salacious symphony,
Edge me towards a frenzied crescendo
Of cacophonous exclamation,
And pluck me until I deconstruct
Into single notes of pure tone and spent ecstacy.
~~~~
❤👽xoxoxo👽❤
