dolus specialis*

I do not have  a binary view or sex.


If you have friends who are ‘poly’  I encourage you to sit down and have a talk with them about the hoops they have to jump through to sleep with someone who is not a part of their primary ‘giggity’ pool.  I had a good friend who was poly and I watched him have a talk with a girl about the ‘rules’  because she wanted to sleep with him…  I myself have had to slog though business contracts that are not half as complicated.  I got bored after a while.. I wandered away… I wonder if they actually ever got to  the sex part.

The last relationship I was in was not chok-a-block with good sex.   I blame a small group of people.  First there is the line of guys she slept with before me;  I have no idea where they learned their skillz, but  for the most part  they thought good sex involved one act repeated as hard and fast as they could go.  As such it lead to her thinking that good sex was a one trick pony.  Second to blame was her;  I mean c’mon , she never did anything  to expand her own skillz.  And then we come to blaming me;  in my own defence I tried to expand her knowledge but she was not a fan of trying new things.  Essentially it was like trying to teach opera to a singer who needed  autotune.  After the first few months I actually gave up hoping she would get any better.  My ex wife ( god bless her skillz)   said that people f ck the way they dance.   Never date a girl who does the same move over and over on the dance floor.  Ever. Or a guy for that matter…

Right after my break-up,  actually the day of… I was accosted by an acquaintance  who was with, no exaggeration, a whole lot of fun in bed.  I mean really,  and she reminded me of every thing I love about the carnal acts.  She also made me feel young, and kind of studly.  The handful of  times we were together were … well they were exactly what I needed.  But y’know there are people who you just can’t date, she was one of them and I realised that if I kept sleeping with her, well it would end badly.  We had a nice talk about it and she laughed, she also encouraged me to visit every once in a while.  The sex was good but the emotion was limited to the kind of feeling you get on a rollercoaster. Part of it had to do with the fact that we were not friends,  aside from both being amused at the things I could do with my hands,  we had very little in common.

Recently I had a friend, someone who I like and respect,  come over for a nice night.  She had called me up on the phone to talk about something. And I asked her  ( out of the blue ) if she wanted to come over, take her clothes off , get a full body massage and then as many orgasms as I could manage.

(total transparency:  I have done this before with a few of my friends, if the chance presented itself.   I would get a ‘gut’ feeling ,  propose the action and face the consequences,  I’ve only been turned down twice.. And even then it wasn’t weird after…)

She said what people say when that sort of question comes up “ Are you Serious?”  after I assured her I was she asked “ And what do I have to do to you?”   … a good question.  I told her she could do whatever she felt like doing ( within boundaries) but that there were no expectations.  There was a long pause on the phone and then she said, “Can you pick me up in about two hours, I want to shave…”  I assured her I would be there.

The ride out to my place was deadly quiet. She didn’t say anything.  She had dressed in sweat pants and a hoodie,  her hair was pulled into a ponytail.  I was a little freaked out by the quiet but I respected the silence.
When we got back to my place she walked in and looked at the table I had in the kitchen, I had laid a large blanket on it and a pillow.  She started at it for a bit.  I finally said. “If you want, instead I can make a pot of tea and we can hang out?”  she nodded.

I pushed the table back against the wall and made tea.. We talked about everything but the large elephant in the room .  I was a little disappointed, but I figured that she just couldn’t wrap her mind around it.  Her eyes kept glancing at the table in the kitchen.

 I suggested that she pick out a movie, and as she was staring at the dvd’s I have she said. “ Do you want to take off my clothes?”
“If you want me to…”  I said, “ but we don’t have to…”

She took a few steps towards me.. And for the first time she looked right into my eyes “Yes, I think we do.”
So I took her clothes off,  noting that she hadn’t put on a bra or briefs.   I also noted that as I was taking her clothes off her hands were almost always in contact with me.  On my shoulders or on my head.    After she was naked I took her by the hand and led her to the table.

A note about massage,  when I was in university I worked as an in home masseuse for a business that offered the kind of treatment you find in the ‘interesting’  portion of the classifieds.   I was pretty good at it,  had a lot of repeat customers. I knew how to make  a massage last almost two hours and aside from just slathering oil I knew how to work all the muscle groups.  I also knew how to give a massage that would inevitably lead to thoughts of sex.  It’s not that hard, once you forget about the obvious areas and know where the unobvious areas are.  And everyone has the secret erogenous zones.  You can tell you are near one by the way they breathe in, you can tell you are in one by they way they stop breathing.

Right towards the end  of the massage she asked if I was still serious about ‘as many orgasms as I could manage’ I leaned over and gently kissed her on one of her not so obvious erogenous zones.  When I lifted my mouth I exhaled a long warm breath.

In time we ended in my room, and after more time  when she had stopped twitching and could form sentences  we talked.   As we were talking her hands wandered, and she made a comment about my clothes still being on.  After a bit more time, but not too much, after I could form a sentence,  we kept talking. .. Eventually we got up had more tea and talked until the sun came up. Then I took her home. We did stop for breakfast… cause sometimes you really need bacon and orange juice.

We haven’t talked since then, aside from a few e-mails back and forth.  I think we are closer friends.  As always I don’t actually feel like anything has changed between us aside from being a little closer and a little less formal about the things we can share.

I write all this because it’s good to remind myself that sex is not about love, it is however about trust and respect.  Getting naked and sweaty doesn’t convey a sense of ownership,  nor should it have to. But it can be a way for people to try something new.  I wouldn’t offer a nice night to just anyone.  There has to be a solid basis of friendship, but there is something fun about taking  your time and doing something without hope of getting anything in return.   Also Love has nothing to do with sex…

But the difference between f cking someone you barely know  and having fun with someone you like and trust is a huge chasm. Plus, while boring sex can be a chore, when it’s not boring.. Ohmigod!!!!!!

There it is, for what it is worth.

*special intent

interlude ( why is he so damn angry )

It starts with denial, it always does.

I’m talking about the grieving process…  It starts with denial.

Okay… there are big issues, like our mortality.   There are small issues, the little disappointments that scatter the floor of our week… and the multitude of issues in between.   But you know you are dealing with a fairly substantive issue when it starts with denial.

If you believe the experts, and I am careful in my acceptance of their arbitrary words,  the next could be anything from the following three … Anger, Bargaining, Depression…

So you say to yourself

This isn’t happening to me…

Then it could be anything from…

WHY THE HELL IS THIS HAPENNING TO ME?  ~ What do I have to do to make this stop happening to me? ~ (  usually the depression stage doesn’t have many words… but a lot of ‘bathrobe and slipper’ days ).

No expert agrees about the actual order of the three above…  but they agree that all three of them happen to one degree or another.

I just went through those four… the past month or so…   I know that it made my family and my friends uncomfortable..   I would tell them I was sorry… but it’s a process… isn’t it?   I did the anger.. I’m good at it…  I did the depression .. I know depression when it drapes itself on my shoulders,   I even did the bargaining .. Trying to find a way to lessen the sadness…  I have had the gift of closure…   I said the things I thought, and meant,  harsh as they were.. And when they were out of my mouth and sitting there in front of me.. I knew they were true.. They were how I feel.

It’s not a happy thing when a relationship dies.   But at least  there is a chance for something else down the road.. Maybe a friendship.  If there ever was one to begin with.     The mourning process of a relationship is interesting because there is another person to blame ( and that is interesting … even when half of the blame is yours ) … it can be ugly .. But so can birth…


And like every experience we have… there is a lesson that can be taken away, and good memories to be put in shoe boxes.

It starts in Denial, it reaches its close in Acceptance.

cadavera vero innumera*

My apologies.

This is controversial. 

It’s not a topic for everyone, it has deep cables into all of our psyches  with razor hooks.

If  you had to decide if a child lived or died, what would you decide? 

If  by saving that life,  the cost could be:

-Two decades of  reduced income, and increased bills.

-having to forego on doing some of the things your friends will be doing

-losing your partner and having  trouble finding another one

-Depression, pain, suffering, guilt, anger.

-possibly your life

Be honest with yourself, what would you decide? 

Would it be different if the situation was one you were partially responsible for? 

Would it be different if  you knew the child would constantly remind you of a terrible trauma?

Would it be different if you knew you would have to take care of the child? 

Would it be different if you were unsure if the child would have a good life? 

You know what I’m talking about… It’s a ‘Hot Button topic’   the topic of abortion. 

The truth is…  Abortion  is often used  as a form of contraception, we all know people who have gone and had the procedure because it was the wrong time for them to have a child. I don’t think we judge these people  one way  or the other.. And I doubt the decision was an easy one for them to make. I do know a few people who decided to carry the child to term and then put them up for adoption… I believe that is much, much harder… It would be wrong for us to judge their actions.  We can only judge our own actions. 

The most common argument for abortion is “ What if the pregnancy is  a result of rape?”

A knee jerk response to that question is  “ Does the child deserve to die for the sins of the father?”

But what of the Woman? 

People have to deal with the consequences of things that happen to them without their consent  often.  

How they deal with the consequences  speaks to their character.  

Some people won’t let anything get them down, they wont let  the past destroy their future. I envy these people, I covet their strength. 

Sexual assault ( which is not gender specific )  could very possibly be the worst type of assault that can happen.  The decision to carry a child conceived by rape to term would be incredibly hard.  The option not to have to do that should be there.  Just as the option to terminate the pregnancy  should it risk the mother’s life should be there.  

Abortion should be legal.  

I think the best argument for abortion is "People have a right to decide how to deal with the consequences of their actions, they deserve that freedom." 

But the bulk of abortion procedures are made by people who are afraid of how being a parent will effect their life.  It is a selfish act.  Don't get me wrong we make selfish acts all the time.  Though our in-actions we let people die all the time. Not just abortions, kids dying of starvation, kids dying of wars, kids dying because they are picked on and can see no way out.  They die all the time… A child dies every three minutes.  

Some of the deaths could be stopped if we were just less selfish. If we saw more than just what we want. 

But is “life” sacrosanct?  Should we kill?  Do we have the right to decide who lives and who doesn’t? 

There is no right answer, just opinions. 

The thing is:

People who are pro life will get angry because they think this is about how they are wrong.

People who  are pro choice will get angry because they think this is about how they are wrong. 

Some will see how this is about the way we think, about what we want, what we need, and what we are honestly willing to do for others.

  

 {I have recently been told that as a Male I had no right to have an opinion on this topic.   I’m not gay, does that mean I don’t have a voice when it comes to gay rights?   I’m not coloured, do I have no right to speak up on racial inequality?  Or am I only allowed to have an opinion if my opinion agrees  with others?

If you honestly believe that because I am a man I shouldn’t speak out, then remember that discrimination is okay. Especially  when you are discriminated against because you don’t have  a Penis.

Total transparency: I am ‘pro choice’ deep down in my heart.  I would hope that people would choose life… in my past I have been part of a decision that chose the alternative to life.  In honesty I wasn’t a big part of that decision, but I was allowed to weigh in, at the time I agreed with the choice to terminate,  It was an informed choice.}

*truly countless bodies

ex scientia vera*

(Ivan cuts a great song down to three lines )

You're a million miles away

And I'm the one that made you strong girl

But I could not make you stay

Go check out the song, by Everlast, called Stay.

It’s almost been a year, and if you thought eight months was too long… I can imagine what you thought about eleven months and change. Sorry dear readers.

I write about personal stuff because I get frustrated and when it’s too personal to go on facebook it goes on here. Mostly. Sometimes it doesn’t get past the being written stage. The past year has been … something. I could recap but that’s not why I am sitting here typing. Well it kind of is, isn’t it?

Last week I got dumped. After almost a year of living together.

I’m gonna start by saying what we all know. Life changes and people break up… it’s how it goes. In time I’ll be over it, completely. I’m dealing with it right now. The moving of furniture because some of the stuff is gone… the cleaning up after the aftermath, the getting used to being alone…

And I’d like to say there are good things, I am not lonely, I guess I can be thankful for that. I learned how to be alone without being lonely. Of all the things I am grateful for having learned that lesson.

But I got words rolling around my head, they are not all kind. And I need to get them out. To put them somewhere and let others see them, like screaming into a storm. Without the screaming… or the storm.

(audio side note Summer~ Vivaldi… including Storm.. perfect.)

I would write it all down on clay pigeons and then shotgun them into the dust we came from and end as.

For literary skeet shooting I use a Mossberg Persuader

1) I’m not sure where it started… the cracks in our relationship. But I do know that a few (4ish ) months ago she just decided to move out. No reason was given, then after talking …she decided to stay. It coincided with her younger sister wanting to get a place.

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

2) Her way of informing me at that time was to ambush me with it. She had planned her escape route, told other people and then called me from work. This is commonly used by women trying to escape an abusive boyfriend/ husband. I felt like a knife had been slipped between my floating ribs and twisted.

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

3) I was never given a reason for the above actions, Never! She never understood why I was so upset that she did all this without talking to me… I may not always communicate my feelings but… still I have always been willing to listen.

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

4) The above thing occurred after she volunteered for a stretch of work that lasted almost three weeks straight. This was also done without a discussion… She was exhausted. Worn out. And didn’t understand why I was concerned about it. Work was more important.

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

5) She never showed any remorse for the way she approached this issue, there was never any apology.

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

6) When I tried to tell her that one of repercussions of her actions was that there would be trust issues that needed to be worked through she said she understood but never showed any urge to work on them…

( Pull! { Insert boomstick sound and the puff of a clay bird disintegrating })

Crap ! I need to reload.

Okay, there is more to it than what is up there… As the time progressed, I became distant.. I was frustrated that she was willing to kill herself for a job that just accepted she do it. I was frustrated that her sister exhibited a habitual tendency to use everyone around her ( including her granny ) and my partner never thought it was a bad thing. I was frustrated that I was expected to just follow the decisions she made without being included in the process of making them. I was feeling used… I didn’t appreciate it. So I withdrew. I was made to feel like I was being unreasonable when I explained these things. I still feel guilty about it.

Alright! Lets move on. I’m gonna let the metaphor rest for a bit. I have a metaphorically sore shoulder.

A couple of Months ago we had another problem. And I’m gonna take my share of responsibility here. It had to do with money… Yup… the most common thing couples fight about. Well it’s wasn’t just about money… these things never are.

The money aspect had much to do with me losing my job. My fault, opened my mouth when I should have kept it shut.

Anyway, the problem came with her doing the online shopping thing. Not actually shopping but looking. The problem there, she would get all depressed because we didn’t have the money to buy the things she wanted. She once considered being a stripper to get a bunch of money quickly because an ex was talking about getting rich quickly and it bothered her that she wasn’t getting rich quickly. I’ll talk about that ( from a different angle ) later. She constantly compared her life with the people around her, if it wasn’t as ‘good’ she got upset. I never understood that.

But it started with her bending over backwards to make her sister’s birthday good. Including having me make a special trip to get a cake for the sister… ( and she worked in a restaurant ). I voiced my objection ( in retrospect a HUGE MISTAKE ) because when it was her birthday, the sister did nothing. I arranged the party, the decorations, everything. I questioned the fairness of this, brought up the issue about her sister using everyone around her ( including her granny.. Her granny for Christsakes!!!!!) It dissolved in to a bitch fest on both of our parts. Covering everything from her obsession with shopping to my lack of interest in sex ( yuh.. I’m not proud of it but it’s true.. More information on that later ). We decided to work on our relationship skills for six months. We promised to try. For the record I take my promises very seriously.

Last week:

I snapped. A month of her becoming slowly more distant, spending more time going out, longer and more shifts at work. The previous week was filled with her complaining about everyone at work every day . I tried to cheer her up, took her shopping for a Halloween costume, encouraged her to pose in it. Every night I suggested going to bed early. I made meals that she liked, I tried to talk with her. But she was tired. Then Monday night I asked her to come to bed with me, instead she went on facebook, talked with a guy she used to do drugs with, shopped online for a ticket to go a friends wedding ( in may ). And I snapped. I snarked something and went to bed.

Tuesday morning the argument continued, I was being unfair, I was being cruel.

Oh look ..my arm feels better…

I felt like she needed support, so I bent over backwards to support her and she didn’t even see the effort.

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

She TOLD me she was going to fly to New Brunswick for the wedding, there was no discussion.

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

I was the prick because of the things I said about her Sister … yuh that was still an issue… even though I never said anything that wasn’t true

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

The Guy in New Brunswick was her Best friend ( they hadn’t spoken for years .. Hadn’t seen each other for longer .)

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

I had no right to say anything about the drug using friend ( a dealer who liked to get girls high for sex )

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

She was tired of fighting, her last Ex and her never fought.

( PULL!! {BANG} gentle shower of dead clay pigeon )

Metaphorically I will reload.

That night she went to stay at a friends house. The same house her sister stayed at. I knew that I would be tried and convicted. Get two girls in one room and they will gang up on any guy. If one of them is single then they will talk about how great it would be if the other one was single , they could party together. How much fun would they have!!! Plus we add into the mix the fact that the sister wanted to move into a place and would need someone to help pay for everything.

It didn’t matter that She told me that we would talk about this further , I knew that I didn’t stand a chance. The facts stated that in the grand scheme of things I didn’t rank very high on her list of priorities. She has always been more concerned with how others viewed her, always been willing to go the extra mile in hopes they would respect her more. She knew I loved her, that it was unconditional, she didn’t have to work for it, so I fell by the wayside.

She phoned me on Thursday to tell me she wasn’t coming back, I wasn’t surprised, I wasn’t even angry. I offered to let her come and pack… she moved stuff out last Monday morning. As she left she said the same thing she said to her last boyfriend … it was tantamount to “ I hope you have good things happen for you”.

Friday night she was out dancing and managed to tell my friends that we were no more.

Her parting words cut me pretty deep… Not the words themselves.. They are kind enough. But I know how she felt about her ex. Every time something good would happen for him she would get upset. When he started to date again she got mad ( by that time she was with me ). When he and his girlfriend became Pregnant she was catatonic ( there is a good reason for that but still… ). When she thought he was gonna get rich quick she frantically searched for a way to out-do him… any thing good that he experienced made her more angry. And I was there to help her though it. Eventually I told her how much it bugged me that he was still in her life. And to her credit she did finally stop talking to him ( I think.. I was told she hadn’t .. it’s non of my business anymore I guess ).

But you can see where her words would cause me harm.

( another audio side bar - running up that hill as covered by Placebo… thumpy goodness )

‘Bout the sex. It’s true there wasn’t a lot of it going on. I take 70% of the blame. Here is my side of it. Intercourse can lead to Life. I wasn’t prepared to have that happen until I was sure that the person I was having full intercourse with was someone I would be able to raise a person with. Of course intercourse is only a part of sex….

But she didn’t like anything but Intercourse ( unless it directly involved her hitting orgasm ). So our options were limited. I was making an effort to show her that I found her desireable. I tried. But it’s no fun to have someone do something to you because they felt obligated ( different story when they enjoy it, want to do it , and make it fun !) so it was completely one sided… and I didn’t do anything to help her find ways to expand her repertoire. I suggested she go online and find stuff then we could talk about it, she never brought it up.

She’s a pretty girl, and very loving, but in truth she wasn’t very sexual. All her last boyfriends were good at was plowing her.. And she learned that that was good sex. Who do you blame for that? When she asked me what my fantasies were , I told her my most outrageous fantasies ( not very realistic but a fantasy isn’t supposed to be is it? ) and that was a mistake ( cause the truth will make some people fret). She didn’t know how to seduce ( if we go back to her wanting to be a stripper .. You can see where that’s not really a good profession with someone with her skill set. )

But the sex thing… that was not a great scene. She complained that her sexual drive was higher than mine. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I actually have a very high sex drive, but only if it’s fun for everyone. I should have been more honest I suppose.

As I look up at the above 2 thousand words I realise I am not painting a nice picture of her. And if you leave it there I am better off without her. But there is another side. And they sum up in fewer words.

In all my life I have never been with anyone who I loved as much as I love her. Love is not something you can turn off... The urgency of it may fade but it never goes away. And I will always love her.

She understood me like no one else has, and we had a lot in common, we could play board games and talk, we could watch t.v. together and enjoy it, we could spend hours talking about anything. I valued her opinions as much as any of my friends, and felt mostly safe with her around. We had fights, all couples do , and we talked through them… I could open up to her about almost anything and she would understand me without judging. I learned from her everyday, things I valued. I love the way she looks and smells and felt under my hands. All of that is true. And she was my closest friend, compared to anyone. The most amusing thing was that I had found a ring, and I was gonna ask her to marry me, I talked to one friend about it, cause he was to be a best man, and spoke to another because I wanted her to stand in my wedding party.

I guess this is why I am frustrated.

I accept that relationships end, But it should be an honest ending, not something like this, not a snap decision based on an argument while others do their best to free her up so they can use her.

The unfairness, the broken promises, and knowing that she will regret her decision. When the people who she turned her back on me for turn their back on her , when she realises that she walked ( ran ) away from someone who cared for her unconditionally, she will be destroyed. I don’t wish that pain on anyone. Least of all someone who gave me so much joy.

In the end the hard part is, that there is no one for me to talk about this with. She is too stubborn and too scared to talk to me, maybe she’s afraid I would ask her back, or take her back. That’s something even I don’t know the answer to.

This has been good for me to get off my chest, and any of you who have read all the way to the bottom … I say “ You need to get a life” I know it hasn’t been as lyrical or as fun as other things I have written. But sometimes you need to just write the words down… get them outta your head.

-ivan, October 15, 2010.

*from knowledge, truth

credo quia absurdum est*

Some where between the paradise that’s promised to the holy

And everlasting fires where the wicked suffer slowly

There’s a soul sanctuary where the would be saints unwind….

That’s from a song by John Carroll , it’s a nice portrait of a bar we both would go to , him more often than I would.

I have found myself considering more and more the time I spent in Ottawa,

I actually think it may have been some of my best times, and because I’ve been thinking about dickens as well …

Some of my worst times.

I was performing, it was my sole income, it was long days, exhausting summers, and then killer winters that would make me hole up in my home and pingpong around like ice on acid. But mostly I was okay. There was a balance of keeping to myself and having a fantastic circle of friends. They were a bit elitist, but so was I. they drank too much, and I drank with them. But when the season was over , and I retired back home, they let me be. Until the next season and we would start it all over.

We sang and talked and got high and got drunk, we ate Chinese food and had parties and worked and shilled the tourists, we earned honest dollars and dishonest change. We always kept an eye to the sky, cursed bad weather, and had bad waether curse us. We were sunburned and dishevelled and a little notorious, our own piece of the center of the city carved along the streets in the pavement. Cops knew us and would chat, Drug dealers tipped us and street people watched our backs, and we answered in kindness and sandwiches and 2 litre bottles filled with pennies. We got ripped off, and we got even and we got what we deserved. There were beaver tails and sushi and redbull and beer and wine and tequila and now… memories.

Winter in the valley was all snow and ice and cold and dark. The first one almost took me, there were thoughts of razor blades or pills… there were tears and sadness, and there were girls, a slow procession of them , each as sweet as they were bitter. It was the winter and the girls that taught me about self reliance. About keeping people at arms length and needing only what I could get myself. This is an overly harsh lesson to learn to begin with but turns into a calm and kind thing.

Some lessons fade with time, and you forget the burns that made them real. Everything fades, scars and memories. And they need to be learned again. Until the memories criss cross your skin with the layers below forgotten.

Sometimes I wish I lived in a world where the people who I wanted to like could read my mind and know when I need to be held, and when I need to be alone. I wish the people who come to me for a reaffirmation and help and support and that rush of blood to their skin, didn’t all take their arousal to someone else.. Like I’m a pimp who pays the price and everyone around me ends up covered in sweat and lost in lust. I wish .. I wish.

Truth is I can give myself what I need. And I need to be reminded of that, the universe has a way of telling you what is important. After a while it’ll start again.. But right now I’m okay. And wishing isn’t bad, but remembering the line between a wish and a goal is important.

* i believe it because it is absurd

interlude: Listenupyoum*th*rf***er! rant

I like the internet. And if you are reading this you probably do too. It is a valuable resource for information, music, and inspiration when I hit roadblocks. I like reading about how the people I want to be connected with are doing. I read blogs and wade through face book . I check out pictures my friends have done or posed for , it allows me to chat with liz all the way over in Brighton, and jake in Ottawa, and degan in Vancouver. It allows me to keep track of what needs to be done with my clockwork mates and toss ideas around with paul about the rapidly growing world we are creating. It gives me a place to post the pictures that I have created and like. Actually without it I probably never would have started taking pictures. …

I’m about to go off on a rant here…. It may just be fuelled by bad dreams and too much smoke and caffeine. It is not a cry for “warm fuzzies” to be tossed my way electronically… and anyone who really knows me knows how hard it is to actually get me in one place and totally focused enough to actually have a decent conversation without me going off on a tangent about creating something new and exciting. It’s a defence mechanism y’know… if I hide behind a task then it’s the task that is in the foreground not me. I’ve never been comfortable being in the spotlight , which is strange because I tend to jump right in the center. How f***ed up is that? Not too much really when you think about it. As a bipedal, humanoid, creature I enjoy validation… I never really thought that I deserve much so I go about doing things that do deserve validation. That whole phase of fire breathing … and god I was good at it… was bout me needing to be told that I was good… and the little gospel of three minutes at the end was to add something that would make it more than a fairly pitiful cry for attention, at least there would be a little social commentary to get the rubes to ponder. It was the only way I could force myself time and time again into the circle. That, and the money… I liked the money.

( how is it that a rant about one thing often ends up being a rant about something else ? And now you have to slam on the breaks and try to get the goddamn bus outta the swamp and back on the highway…. Tires spin in mud.)

So without the internet I probably wouldn’t be taking pictures. Well no, that’s not completely true. It’s a combination of the technology. A person who enjoys trying to capture an image ( I hate the title photographer ) will shoot about 100 frames to get 10 good ones, and 1000 to get one that is great, 10 000 may yield ( onna a lucky day ) one exceptional shot. If it wasn’t for digital photography think about how much money that would cost in film and developing. To do what I do the old fashioned way would require a darkroom and all the stuff for developing ( no I can’t imagine what a developer would say about most of my images ). I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to get the type of image I have without my editing program. ( for the record and as a middle finger to everyone who thinks photoshop is the end all to photo editing $700 + the average add on from $50 - $300. -And they wonder why there are software pirates-. I use Paintshop Pro photo X2 at a tenth of the price.) I think maybe some of what I do with my little laptop would be as far from my reach as a gold medal in sprinting. So the technology has allowed me to see that I may have an eye for images and enough creativity to make them my own.

(awwww crap !!! tires spin in mud.)

Pictures. ( note to self … stop that )

I take them, edit them, and return them to the persons who are in them. Turn around from a good shoot is anywhere from a day to a week. If I remember to edit them all ( and sometimes I forget, just recently I came across a file of 100 images that I had just started to edit then forgot.. They look good tho .. Now ).

Prep for a shoot can be anywhere from months ( like the clockwork shoots ) to a few hours but mostly involve me rushing around getting the props/ costumes , deciding where to shoot, and setting up the set. A shoot is anywhere from 2 hours - 8 depending on the complexity of the set/costumes/#of models/my attention span. I average 4 hours per sitting . Sometimes the shoot is easy, if I am focused and engaged in the shoot it goes well and I have no issues with getting the persons to pose/dress/undress to my satisfaction. The ease of the shoot relies on my direction ( =interest 40% +mood 17.5% +focus 7.5%) and the a combination of the willingness of the model ( 17.5%) and their mood (17.5%). I’ll end up with 200 - 600 images if I am careful 1000+ if I shoot heavy.

Then comes the editing process. The first time I get the images up on my screen and roll through them. I’ll do this three or four times before I bring out the electronic shears. The first cull is easy, anything that is too blurry or bad image quality is burned. Then it’s a case of “Looking At The Face” to find the images that convey the “ideal” I want. This has a lot to do with eyes, mouth and jaw. These are things that change in a face and end up changing the face. There is nothing worse than a “smile” that ends before it gets to the eyes or a mouth that has the shape of “I’ll just get through this moment.” This takes a lot of walk-thru’s and mind changing . Somewhere during this process I’ll be cropping the image. A lot of what I end up with in the finished bin is good because of what I have cropped out.

One person commented that after a fairly long shoot where she was mainly nude I had cropped out most of her nekidness.. It took me a while to explain that to get the image I really wanted she had to be comfortable in a state that wasn’t too comfortable … it goes like this.

Take off all your clothes and stand in front of someone who you know and trust. This is not an easy thing to do when your brain is fogged with lust but try to do it when sex is not a part of the equation. There are people out there who will confirm that once you are comfortable being nude and used to being nekid without anything naughty going on it’s kinda nice. But for the start your mind will be spinning with “ I wonder what X thinks of my ( fill in body part/type here)”. Once you overcome the boundary of nudity, other things that may bother you are no longer a big deal. This has nothing to do with sex, it has to do with being comfortable. It’s a hell of a wall to break through the first time but I have found that once someone has cast away the “issue” they are far more relaxed in front of the camera. Nine times out of ten once they get past the shock of being bare they relax way easier. And the pictures are much better.

(awww crap , tires spin in mud )

After the sorting /cropping process comes the actual editing of the pictures. Each image can take anywhere from 2 minutes to half an hour. The average time for 50 images is about 5 hours of work sooo we can say that it takes about 6 minutes for every picture. Each subset takes a little while to do the basic stuff, brightness/contrast.. Then it’s a case of carving and chopping and sanding the textures to get the final image.

Add up all the time 8 hours before the shoot,+4 hours for the shoot,+2 hours culling the stockpile, + 5 hours for editing and you end up putting 21+/- hours. Lets call it 20 hours. That’s half of an average work week ( actually it’s a little more since the average work week is now 36 hours ). The average wage for a person in the field of art, culture, recreation and sport is aprox $23. That means an average shoot would cost in hourly wages somewhere around $460.

As I was cruising the internet canadian boudoir photographers average at around $400 / sitting plus $20/image for editing the average cost of a printed 5x7 = $10 ( anywhere from $5-$20 ). If you get in on a marathon the prices drop a little but so does the time spent on each person. To be fair- lets assume $200 for the sitting ( 2hrs) , $10/image for editing ( 20 images ), $10 for a photo disk, and $5 /print. - that works out to about $510 for a 2 hour sitting, They supply the makeup and hair person, you supply the clothes . I don’t do makeup , I will supply the clothes if the subject of the shoot interests me ( on average when I buy an outfit is hovers around the $200- $400 mark depending on the shoes/corset/whatever you are dressed in)

This year I on average spent $200 / shoot for clothing, that the subject ended up keeping.

Subtract my costs form what I could charge. And my average dollars/hour wage for a shoot is $13.

What I actually charge is on almost all occasions $0. So my average wage/hour -$10.

(Funnily enough this is not what the Rant is about … yup I have driven so far into the swamp that I can’t even see the road .. At this point tires are not spinning in mud but water is seeping in over the door.)

It puts it in some sort of context. People seem to understand spending money better than they understand time spent on something. And after all I do love doing it.

But you know what I hate. I hate that people seem to think that because it doesn’t cost anything .. It’s not worth anything, They ant the images because it gives them something for people to “oooh” and “awwwww” over. They like the fact that they look god in the pictures. They have no idea how much effort it takes to make a picture that makes them look really good, or just how involved I have to be to care enough to make them look good.

Try to do what I do. I mean really try to do it. You can look at my stuff and say well.. It’s not so special. But can you do it?

I have been trashed by others for doing this, I have had people get mad at me because they have to wait or because I wont give them a hard copy of every picture. I have had people cancel at the last minute or without notice. And I have had people tell me that what I do isn’t photography because I rely on heavy editing. For the record I never said I was a Photographer. I don’t know what I am but I know that I like what I do.

Deb has a bumper sticker that says “if yer gonna ride my ass at least pull my hair!”

I feel that way sometimes, people ride my ass or cut me off or disregard what I do because … well because they either don’t know how much effort it takes, or they don’t care, or they wish they could do what I can’t do and “sour grapes” come to them naturally. But when friends turn on me and toss glass ( metaphorically) for me to tread on. I get frustrated, and angry and want to quit.

Sometimes I think I should hand over a bill for the stuff I do. Just so people will understand that “there is no such thing as a free lunch” . But I remember that I have friends and associates who balance the scale, they give more than I do, they try just as hard trying to reach the same goal… and most of the time they carry me when I can’t seem to get myself up that hill.

I don’t tell some of you how much I appreciate what you do for me , I don’t tell some of you how much I hate the way you treat me. My heart tells me that I should.

That is all.

Lets not have comments on this okay?

Thanks

Ivan.

interluge!

A slow slide to the inevitable halt….

Northern Alberta weather is an interesting mix of mild to the extreeme. We do have nasty , horrible, cold as well as bake-your-biscuts-in-the-bowl heat. But on average nothing is too bad. Even our winter storms tend to be the casual affair.

I have mocked BC drivers for not knowing how to handle the weather, and made fun of Toronto for calling in the army when they got less than 2 feet of snow in a day. Here at home I have passed the old car in the ditch with a puff of derision.

Lat night I got my payback. At the grand speed of 50km/h I lost control, in a nice relaxed way, and careened slowly to and fro until I ended in a ditch, thankfully full of snow, stuck so bad I had to call a tow truck, to my insane embarassment. My speed just before I hit the ditch ? Oh less than 20km/h. I had enough time to realise that a mild skid had turned into a careen , the a slalom, ending in a sideways dodge into the ditch. Enough time to realise I had lost it , and sort of relax a little as it was happening.

Funny thing, I was never upset, not while it was happening, not after it happened, not while I was calling the tow truck company. I was concerned that I may have hurt the poor thing but upon a closer inspection I noticed that it escaped much as me , covered in snow and stuck!

When I called the company the operator was jovial and amusing.

Me - I’m stuck in a ditch
Her - well don’t you feel like a loser?
Me- Ummm actually not until right now but thank you for asking
Her- ( laughs) oh dear I’m sorry , what kind of vehicle is it?
Me- 2008 ford ranger.
Her- 2 or 4 wheel drive?
Me- 2 wheel .
Her- well congratulations for lasting as long as you did.
Me- Thanks!
Her - You must have been on a bad stretch of road…
Me- Actually I was going too fast I think.
Her- Well good for you for taking responsibility .Are you safe and warm?
Me- Yup, the truck is still running.
Her- Full tank of gas?
Me- ( warily ) yup…
Her- Okay stay warm it’ll be 2 hours.
Me- really? Wow! Thank you .

It actually was only about half an hour, thankfully I went to school with the owner of the company.

The guy who came to pull me out ( with extreeme professionalism ) was someone I had tossed out of the bar a few times. My own red face kept me warm.

fons et origo*

Epiphany:

An epiphany is the sudden realization or comprehension of the (larger) essence or meaning of something.

Also if we add a “the” to the front it turns into a religious holiday , but that’s not the point here.

The calendar year has passed, from 8 to 9... This is a time for people to take stock, plan new ways to attack life.. Okay, okay it’s a time to rethink ways to pay off the debt that accumulated with the gift giving, or shed the pounds from too many feasts ( who dance hand in hand with libations ) … More often than not it is a time to face general guilt and frustration because we bit off more than we could chew…

I have listed the events of the past year, as they happened… a laundry list of someone who will attempt to live in a manner that is more than “day to day…”

I sing a song of balance , I sing it off-key, but I sing it loudly… it seems like for the greatest part of my adult life I have been singing songs for people .. If they listen or not. I have sang about giving us all a fair shake, I have sang about loving the things about ourselves that we hate, and I sing about balance.

I have learned things that make me happy… and more importantly I have learned things that bring me a modicum of peace … so today, this day of epiphany I throw down a list of the things I have learned between the shortest day/longest night solstices , and the year between them.

Small joy is found for me by:

Finding intimacy where it has absolutely no right to be
Having a lesson taught to me with smiles
A very evil grin on a very good person
Sandalwood
Demon in the dark
Shared warmth
Quiet conversations ( often held in loud places)
The perfect curve
Properly mixed beverages
Tea, coffee, and ice water
Solitude
Companionship
White lace, diamonds, cords, boning and garters
Images carved from images
A good playlist

I have little time for:

Threats and bullies and thugs
Small talk
Anger and frustration
Border disputes and pissing contests
Jealousy
Being a hidden pleasure ( when it is not my choice .. This is a very important distinction )
Being treated as a commodity
Disrespect ( either receiving or giving )
Things of no consequence ( so vague but still very true… also the way it is worded gives me a fair amount of play )

Other thoughts at the moment…

I often think I am a bad friend, not knowing how or when to jump in or when to leave it be ... I push too hard I think … I do mean well… but often I forget my place…. I think it’s because I don’t have boundaries for my friends… not my true friends…I’m never sure where their boundaries are… so .. I mess up

I know what my expectations of situations are, usually early on.. Rather than nagging to have those expectations met I just wait and see… if they are not met.. I end the situation … this seems a bit harsh but usually is fair to the situation… allowing everyone to act as they see fit … rather than pushing the situation in my own way…

I gleaned this from a conversation had while writing this:

friendship is fragile, a bit like a bridge made of glass
it would take forever to build a bridge of glass.. something that would endure
and incredible effort
but it needs to be built from both ends.. both people making the same effort
or it will crack , then break
that is very abstract eh?


Well that’s enough … isn’t it ….


* the spring and source

guess what interlude: no really gues what

made it to two...

mallow interlude: squishy thoughts...

I would like to put forth an idea, not my own idea I am sure.

Well , it is something my brain came around to naturally, but I cannot imagine that the idea has not been put forth to you before.

Last year I started to celebrate in the stead of Christmas, the more appropriate Hogswatch. If you look hard enough somewhere in my notes you will find the reasons all.

And this year I do want to wish you all a Happy Hogswatch. But for those of you who are not living in a twin city , on a flat disc, being supported by four elephants on the back of the giant turtle swimming through space, for you I suggest this.

Strip away the dogma of religion and understand the joy of the birth of a person who spent the majority of time talking about love and respect and kindness and fairness. And maybe instead of celebrating the birth ( under questionable circumstances to some). Howsabout we celebrate the message. It is a good message, a message of respect and kindness and love. And neither kindness nor respect can exist with out love.

Love is a funny thing, I have come to find it to truly be the one thing that will not carry a patina, no rust will stay on it. Any thing that may hide it’s very amazing light can be brushed aside very easily. Love has nothing to do with owning something, it has nothing to do with giving into something. Love is not something that can be won or bartered for. It only exists when it is given. Can you imagine anything else as pure?
And it’s the purity of the thing that makes us desire it so. There are few things pure in our life, it seems like everything has an element of decay, perhaps that is why we cherish those physical things that are truly pure this is why gold and diamonds are so valued. They never tarnish and they never fade. Physical representations of the purity we strive for in our soul or do we?

I was told by someone that I was one of the most important people in their lives. At that very moment an entire life of self hatred fell from me like ice off a chapel roof. I covered with a glib remark ( as I often do). But later that night I was overtaken by the enormity of it all. It actually gripped me and held me … this is a little too dramatic for you all .. Isn’t it? I will pull out of it for a moment and get back on track.

Love is a funny thing, not to be trapped by anything as silly as a promise… Love exists or it does not. And if it does it will never go away, prepare for that, and take my word. If that person who you love , truly love is only in your life for a moment. Enjoy it.
A message of love and respect and kindness. A good message. The celebration of a life, a good celebration. A holiday that should be about the people in your life, not about a hoard of stuff.

This year I will have a roast and leave out sherry and a porkpie for the Hogfather and turnips for the boars that pull his sledge. But I will take a moment to remember all the people in my life who I love. And how they have made me a better person.