• masturbation,  Masturbation Monday,  Photos,  Sinful Sunday


    “She imagined herself both queen and slave, dominatrix and victim. In her imagination she was making love with men of all skin colors–white, black, yellow–with homosexuals and beggars. She was anyone’s, and anyone could do anything to her. She had one, two, three orgasms, one after another. She imagined everything she had never imagined before, and she gave herself to all that was most base and most pure.” — Paulo Coelho (Veronika Decides to Die)                      

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday

    G is for Grape

    My love, suddenly your hip is the curve of the wineglass filled to the brim, your breast is the cluster, your hair the light of alcohol, your nipples, the grapes your navel pure seal stamped on your barrel of a belly, and your love the cascade of unquenchable wine, the brightness that falls on my senses, the earthen splendor of life. Pablo Neruda     Click the kiss below to see more sinners and their sins

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday


    I have always struggled to be fully present, it’s something I have been focusing on learning and fostering within myself for only the past year. I still have work to do. Due to the usual challenges, I was shocked and a bit delighted to notice this little row of four puncture points, one for each finger, on my right breast; proof that I had been so in the moment that I had actually broken my skin without realizing. This may seem a strange point of pride but it’s tangible progress and a beautiful little reminder of the moments they were accidentally created in.  

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday

    Winter, Waiting

    These winter days are bare and bleak; a coldness is seeping into me that I cannot escape. I can’t outrun the wind and so I hunker down, hibernating, cool flesh like sunbleached bone, warming slowly under snowy feathers, amidst the pillows and the quiet sounds I make in vain, one handed, scrambling to imagine, fighting to forget.   See who else is sinning this week …

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday

    Darken My Doorway

    Come to me, on slippered feet, chipped porcelain in hand; the saucer rings with delight as it’s lover, Cup, sits lightly in its lap. Come to me, on dark winter days when your shadow darkens my doorway and I can hear the Raven on the lamppost, her mournful cry piercing the darkness as the cold air follows you in. Come to me, on these hallowed floorboards where your love is honoured with your knuckles and knees, silent but for how your eyes beg, beg, beg.

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday

    Weekend Reprieve

    It’s been a vulnerable week for a number of reasons. I am proud of myself for managing as well as I did and being articulate and authentic with my feelings. I certainly feel like I’ve earned a bit of a lie-in this morning. What do you say? Would you be quick to kick me out of bed or would you linger with me?

  • Photos,  Sinful Sunday

    F is for Fat and Fucking Fabulous

    Not so long ago I could never have posted this picture. I would have taken it, groaned at its hideousness and deleted it out of shame and fear. No more! I don’t prescribe to “new year, new me” but it’s about time I asked my body for forgiveness for all the hate I’ve hurled at it, all the abuse I’ve allowed it to endure, and all the time I’ve spent hiding it. I declared 2019 “The Year of the Nudes” and I mean it. No more being camera shy. More pics, more body acceptance celebration, more positivity, more love, more truth.