I wanted magic, I got magic. Wow.
In the wee hours last Saturday morning (or Friday night, depending on how you calculate), I wrote that I wanted sex to be magical. Less than 24 hours later, a nice friendly visit with Deven sparkled into a scrumptiously delicious tryst. Yes, there was yummy mm, mm, magic!
Deven and I have had our ups and downs over the past year, and lately it had been mostly down and declining fast until a week and a half ago when we had a breakthrough discussion and found that we still had some very good potential between us as friends. I privately resolved to be a much better friend to Deven, to give us the best restart I could manage. I also resolved to leave sex off the table (and off the bed and off the floor...) and I had actually become quite happy with that situation because it came with so many other good things, like appreciating him and us from totally new directions. Besides, every time we joined in sex he disappeared from my life for a week or so. It just felt crummy. I much preferred having Deven with no sex to having sex and then no Deven.
So I had some reservations about Saturday night ~~ not wanting to be cut off from his company again just after we had been getting along with each other so nicely. He said he wouldn't go away....
Well, so far so good. Loving encounters with plenty of pixie dust on Saturday night plus Sunday afternoon AND Tuesday night, and then a friendly conversational visit this evening (Thursday). Lovely.
No pullback so far. This is mighty nice....
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Image credit: "Flower Power" by Jay Jacobson
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Mm, Mm, Magic!
Saturday, May 17, 2008
What I Want From Sex
I finally found the word to describe what I want from sex lately. See, for the past half year, I have not had my usual interest in usual sex (that is, with men). That might be an indicator for depression, except that I've had strong interest in unusual sex (say, with the cosmos). Now as far as I'm concerned, it's no problem: I'm happy with my situation. It's fascinating in terms of evolution, and I don't feel an urge to label or categorize or analyze or explain any of it to myself. I like watching it unfold at its own pace. I'll mention that while this strange, new direction has been developing, my buddy Saturn, the big, beautiful, ringed planet, has been a reassuring companion and guide.
On the other hand, there are those who do have a strong urge to analyze and label the phenomenon, who want to know why I don't have my usual interest in sex (with them). Those would be men, of course. To address their questions, I've been thinking about sex a lot lately, and now I found the word:
Magic.
I want to make magic. With no need to settle for anything less, I want to feel a growing sense of magic and wonder as we wend the way toward each other's souls, as we whirl in waves beyond ourselves.
This path is now revealed and I will practice sensing when enough magic is gathered to catalyze sex. But I wonder what "magic" will mean to my man who wants sex ~~ usual, unusual, whatever works ~~ he enjoys sex. What's wrong with usual sex? Nothing, darling, nothing is wrong with usual sex. But everything is better with magic.
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About our love and all its glory
Let us take this night of magic
And let us make a night of love
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I changed a few words above in a verse of the song "Surrender" made famous by Elvis Presley and written by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman who rearranged a 1902 ballad by the brothers Giambattista de Curtis and Ernesto de Curtis. The verse was matched with the image, credited as "Surrender" by Federico Bebber who used an image from Marcus Ranum's stock gallery
Image credit: The Ringed Planet in Time magazine by NASA / JPL / AP /// Time's caption: "In this composite photograph compiled from images produced by Cassini in 2006, the Earth appears as a tiny pinprick of light in the upper left between Saturn's outer rings."
Leafy Green Feelings
My habit is to blog when I'm on top of everything in my life, when everything is under control, when life is spinning along like a top. So I don't blog much. My life is hardly ever like that.
Just tonight I read some blogs by people who went through stuff and wrote about it as it happened. It has a fresh quality, unprocessed. Raw, so to speak. Raw food is good for the bod, and raw feelings are good for the soul. A workable theory, yes? Instead of processing stuff first and wrapping it up in a package tied with a bow, I'll poop a pellet *plop* onto the page ~ ~ voila.
Wait a minute. That can't be right. Manure is very highly processed stuff, and anything but raw. Let's try that again.
I'll gather salad greens from my garden of experience (the tender, young shoots that have just sprung up), rinse off the grammar, and offer up the raw leafies for us to munch on. That might be tasty! Or it might be as eye-watering as onions. Guess it all depends on what pops up in the garden overnight.
It just occurred to me that eating lots of raw leafy green vegetables is an excellent remedy for constipation of the gut. Likewise, an excellent remedy for writer's block is penning raw, green words with no prep or dressing or even effort for presentation.
Raise your shooters of fresh wheat grass juice, everyone, for a toast in honor of turning over a new leafy green feeling for fresher, livelier vitality with special enzymes and ephemeral bioflavinoids intact. Cheers!
~ with love from Jolene
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Photo credit: Jennifer Benner, (Fiddlehead ferns)
