Is it erotica? Maybe to some but not, rather sadly, to me. With ten years of archive to wander through you might think that SOMETHING would fit the bill but I seem to gravitate toward more mysterious and emotional connectivity. Which brings me back to the question of where does this work belong? I ran across a fairly stereotypical "mens magazine" in my feed this morning and went to check it out only to find it terribly disappointing. Each individual picture is perfect and gorgeous (even if the women themselves were the overly-accentuated T&A caricatures that DEFINITELY do not interest me). Each picture exactly the same. Imagine for a moment with me the number of pictures that have been taken of an attractive woman pulling a bikini tight against herself. There may be more of those pictures than there are grains of sand on a Caribbean beach. That picture is the accumulating size of my despair at the limits of human imagination.
NOT causing despair is this set with my long-time friend Jordan River. Jordan questions herself as much as I seem to and I absolutely love her for it. She is a graceful and enthusiastic partner for my stupidest ideas and a wonderful wit, to boot. The outlines of a tome are rattling around the desk, "RiverMuse" just needs another shoot or three. You'd think we'd have "enough" already but while Jordan has been responsible for a good amount of brilliance I continue to believe that we have not hit our pinnacle. We can do better, I truly believe.
Get up. Get out of bed. Drag a comb across my head. Or so the song goes. These winter days have only just begun and I'm already OVER it. I feel like there's a book bouncing around in my brain but it isn't quite ready to come out. Or SOMETHING. More in the alt-text. #thinky #muses