Awhile back I went on a Stephen Elliott bender. I just watched this again and in case you haven't seen it, I figured I'd embed it (I love the word embed, hahaha).
Today is P.S. Haven's salty turn at the Spicy Summer Sundays blog tour! He's tickling our fancy with a mouthwatering pickle recipe. I've never made pickles myself, but I'm sorely tempted to try this recipe.
Since "salty dog" means (among other things) "libidinous male," as soon as I heard that Haven was doing salt, I thought of this here song. Because Haven is definitely libidinous. Duh. We all are! So here's some vids. We got some Procol Harum and then some Flogging Molly (with some lovely Jack Sparrow footage).
Then our Haven has an incredible amount of reading material for us, including a brand spanking new one just for our Spicy Summer Sundays! In all that, he reveals his obsession and asks about ours. But I'm not even giving a hint, you have to go read.
So head over to Haven's blog - Faster, Baby - that is if you're looking for a salt lick.
And since one of the things I'm obsessed about is just weird stuff, here's a video that is definitely in the weird column. Takes me back.
~There's only three more days of school after today and then I won't have to get up at 6AM (I am not a morning person).
~I've got a writing group meeting tomorrow - been missing folks.
~There's some good stuff out in blogland - poetry at Sommer's and Craig's - plenty of pretty purple/violet/whatever at Alison's (ya must scroll through all the purple posts) - thoughtful posts & discussions at Donna's and Scarlett's - word talk at Janine's - and one hell of a fun quiz at P.S. Haven's (plugging your ass again Haven!).
~I'm putting together an interview that I did with Randy Lagana, whose artwork I've used in various posts. Hope to get it up this weekend.
~It's stopped raining!
~There's even a hint of sun!
~Mr. Erobintica gets home from business travels tomorrow afternoon!
~ I got buttons AND a Trollop temp tattoo in the mail!
It is June isn't it? Today it's 56 degrees and the rain has not quit since I woke up. I'm finding it very hard to get motivated to do anything. It's too chilly, too dismal. My garden is not growing. It does not feel like it's almost officially summer. I'm wanting hot cocoa, not iced tea. I'm wearing a sweater.
If you are in the same boat - and needing a diversion - check out the fun quiz that badass P.S. Haven has posted today.
Yesterday was an inspiring day in blogland. If you want to read all about it, go to Sommer's blog - she's done a review. One thing that got us all going was P.S. Haven's incredible erotic art. And one of his pieces, Expectations, got to me enough that I ended up writing a short poem, an ekphrastic/found poem. I just used images and some words/phrases of his text and rearranged until it started touching on what it is about his piece that draws me in to the extent it does.
Anyhow, here's the piece by P.S. Haven - (his etsy page linked here) and then the poem. I used his watermarked image on purpose.
Expectations
hands
grip
arms
sheets
words
what if?
not real
never tell
never see
swear
ready
I'm not afraid
Oh, and later today I'll have a new installment of Beginner's Ball - so check back later!
You know those visualization exercises? Go to your special place. I tend to hate those. Yoga classes always seemed to end with them. I used to think I don't have a special place. Now I do, but the problem is I want to be there for real, not in my mind.
I want to be here, this place in the picture. The nice thing is, I've been there and I will be there.
Anyhow, I've been quiet and in that feeling sorry for myself place. Which is not good. Not much gets done there.
And the weather has cooled to more seasonable temps (though I did enjoy the heat for two days). And they found the problem on my car and I've got my fingers crossed that it'll be fixed soon. That bare spot in the garage has really gotten me down.
So, I'm going to try to think positive the rest of the day and get stuff done.
Okay, P.S. Haven's got a car thing goin, and yesterday I'd planned on doing this post for today - BEFORE he posted today. So to steal a line from him - that's awesome on so many levels - here is one of my all-time-favorite driving songs. MTST!
I was trying to find a picture online of the first car I drove (easier than digging through old photos and scanning) - but had no luck. If memory serves me correctly, it was a 1970 Mustang Grande Coupe, pumpkin orange with one of those black vinyl fake half roof thingies (technical term). It wasn't mine - it was mom's (an automatic) and it was the car I learned to drive in and was lucky enough to get to drive to school my last year of high school. It actually had an AM/FM radio and I listened to (and stuck a bumper sticker on - wish I still had it) this radio station...
Okay - so fast forward to present day - here's a piece I wrote a few years ago, then recently revised - from my car's point of view.
Auto Erotic
I make her pulse race. She gets wet when she lays eyes on me across a crowded parking lot. Thinks I have cute eyes, but doesn’t mind if I wink at others of my kind. She knows I’m hers. In truth, I know she revels in the longing, lustful glances I get. Loves to overhear comments people make when they don’t realize she’s with me. Yes, I know she’s possessive, doesn’t like to share. I like it that way though.
She bathes me lovingly, won’t allow other hands to do this intimate job. Takes warm soapy water, gently washes off the grime that comes from long days on the road. Then she rinses me in clear water, cool as it runs down my sides. Takes a towel to me, tracing my curves with such attention, I can’t help but shine. She’ll lift my bonnet, wipe my plugs and play with my dipstick. It tickles when she pulls stray leaves out of my grill. Sometimes she gets down and dirty, rubbing between my spokes to clean off brake dust. Sometimes she reaches up into my wheel wells, getting at places others can’t see. And I love it when she polishes my chrome tailpipe. Inside and out.
She frets over small blemishes, evidence of an active life. But they are just on the surface. Underneath, I am healthy and virile. But oh … when she comes inside, sinks into my hide, turns me on, gets me hot. When she takes off the brakes, goes all out. Well, that is when I truly come alive. Sometimes she is gentle with me, coaxing me with subtleness. Letting me take my time. Sometimes she pushes me to go fast, pull a few Gs around some tight corner, then presses to go even faster. When I do eventually slow down, as I have to sometimes, I find myself burbling my regret at having to ease up. But I always stop when she tells me to.
