After giving it a great deal of thought, I’ve decided to take an extended hiatus from the business. No, I’m not pregnant. And no, I don’t have a new boyfriend who’s weird about it. It simply no longer fits well into my life. I’m very busy with other creative endeavors and don’t feel that I have the energy and time needed to invest in clients. You’ve all been wonderful (well, most of you) and I wish you nothing but happy, healthy, and kinky lives. Stay honest with yourselves!
I’ve been taking the time, in the last few weeks, to renew my interest in art. If you follow my blog at all, or at the very least glance at it, you may have determined that I have a very keen interest in it. I certainly don’t pretend to be a scholar, and there’s a lot that I don’t know, but walking into a gallery or museum and immediately being surrounded by the products of someone else’s imagination is one of my favorite things. I recently had the privilege of viewing a local art dealer’s private collection. And not just any art dealer — a like-minded art dealer. This guy could not have been more in keeping with my perverted, sexually explicit, campy, and decadent tastes. His gallery was an art nouveau paradise, but dark and twisted and overtly sexual. Several Klimts hung on the wall. An original Schiele drawing — one I have a print reproduction of on my wish list. Beautiful (and radioactive) sculpture. Any one of which probably cost more than a year of my rent. My friend who brought me there mentioned that several of his clients are big rock stars (the frontman for Korn — which totally kills me… how can someone who makes such terrible music afford such amazing works of art?) and for a moment I sorely wished that I was a ridiculous pop star with gobs of disposable income. Well, maybe not the pop star part. It was an amazing experience and it renewed my own interest in creating art. Normally, it’s just band posters and fashion drawing for me. But now I have an intense urge to draw naked girls and huge cocks (with huge cocks, maybe.) Soon the Vintage Smut of the Week may not be so much vintage.
Just thought I’d share. And if there’s a particular artist that gets you all hot and bothered I’d love to hear about it.
Sometimes one has to choose: blog posts or actual spankings (nipple clampings, bound wrists, forcing the consumption of scandalous beverages, etc.?)
I’ve been choosing the latter and enjoying getting to know a few new playmates. More blog posts will come, I promise. I still have a large stock of naughty old photos to post as well as few autobiographical stories up my sleeve. I also have a photo shoot lined up for later in the month. It’s about time I had some new ones taken! So stay tuned! A new Vintage Smut of the Week will be posted on Saturday.
Finally, Comcast has gotten my internet connection back up to snuff after the Snowtorious B.I.G. blizzard that hit Chicago last week. Apologies for those of you who’ve been waiting for email replies.
I went to my hairstylist and said I want to look like a 60’s Playboy centerfold. Or maybe Barbara Eden in “I Dream of Jeannie.” Only, you know, not blonde. I think she nailed it. What do you think?
After a tumultuous transition into the New Year, I’ve landed on my feet at the Studio in the south loop of Chicago. I just visited the space this afternoon and am positively quivering with impatience to use some of the excellent tools in their collection. The walls are covered with everything the most degenerate, creative mind could dream of. I am very much looking forward to a sweet and willing body to experiment on.
I am currently only available to contact via email. So write me a pretty letter.