Saturday, October 30, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Decide What It Is You Hate: Them or Yourself
Today a writer for Marie Claire magazine posted up a fat-bashing blog about a new TV show featuring an intimate couple of the obese variety. Needless to say the blog went viral, spreading across every social-networking site with individuals expressing both rage and concern. Today Marie Claire had pushed out a tweet stating that the writer had edited the blog with an apology and retraction, and after reading both I'm simply confused.
Now this is what really got me...
In the initial article Maura Kelly wrote that she would "be grossed out if [she] had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other." and also that " I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk."
I'd like to meet these friends, for one. I would wager their waist size is smaller than my thigh. Secondly, other than being completely uncalled for, to say that she wasn't being a "size-ist jerk" makes me wonder what it is she was really thinking. Would a woman who is a size 6 make her gag while a size 18 would induce a full-on wretch?
Throughout the whole column she implies that all fat people are working to lose weight and that they're unhappy with themselves and unhealthy, but never once does she mention that there are people who are happy with themselves exactly as they are, fat rolls and all, and that those people are within range of being healthy and active. I think the overwhelming deluge of comments is proof-positive that these people do in fact exist.
Something this careless could only have come from someone who was broken themselves. There's a bliss that comes with not being overly concerned with weight and body image, namely that when you look in a mirror, you're content with what you see. This is opposed to feeling that social pressure so acutely that you dissect yourself to the point where all you see are flaws. Ms. Kelly admitted in her retraction that she did struggle with anorexia and body image, and that her over-reaction came from those issues that she has with herself.
In all honesty, I pity her. I believe the insecurity that she has is all-too common with many varying forms. (Personally, I'm insecure about my mental acumen and strive to be as intelligent as I possibly can, I hate feeling stupid or belittled in that way and that's something I struggle with. No one is perfect, afterall) I also believe though that this is how prejudices and stigmas are born. Luckily today, the general population stood up and said differently, someday I hope this is the case for any similar situation.
In short, while no one is perfect, that doesn't mean you air out your insecurities by backlashing against the other side of the spectrum. And for heavens sake, fire the editor who allowed that to be published.
To read the full article by Maura Kelly: http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television
Now this is what really got me...
In the initial article Maura Kelly wrote that she would "be grossed out if [she] had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other." and also that " I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk."
I'd like to meet these friends, for one. I would wager their waist size is smaller than my thigh. Secondly, other than being completely uncalled for, to say that she wasn't being a "size-ist jerk" makes me wonder what it is she was really thinking. Would a woman who is a size 6 make her gag while a size 18 would induce a full-on wretch?
Throughout the whole column she implies that all fat people are working to lose weight and that they're unhappy with themselves and unhealthy, but never once does she mention that there are people who are happy with themselves exactly as they are, fat rolls and all, and that those people are within range of being healthy and active. I think the overwhelming deluge of comments is proof-positive that these people do in fact exist.
Something this careless could only have come from someone who was broken themselves. There's a bliss that comes with not being overly concerned with weight and body image, namely that when you look in a mirror, you're content with what you see. This is opposed to feeling that social pressure so acutely that you dissect yourself to the point where all you see are flaws. Ms. Kelly admitted in her retraction that she did struggle with anorexia and body image, and that her over-reaction came from those issues that she has with herself.
In all honesty, I pity her. I believe the insecurity that she has is all-too common with many varying forms. (Personally, I'm insecure about my mental acumen and strive to be as intelligent as I possibly can, I hate feeling stupid or belittled in that way and that's something I struggle with. No one is perfect, afterall) I also believe though that this is how prejudices and stigmas are born. Luckily today, the general population stood up and said differently, someday I hope this is the case for any similar situation.
In short, while no one is perfect, that doesn't mean you air out your insecurities by backlashing against the other side of the spectrum. And for heavens sake, fire the editor who allowed that to be published.
To read the full article by Maura Kelly: http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television
Monday, October 25, 2010
Take Care...
Just a little personal side-note for tonight,
Today I went to the doctor for the first time in a few years, he suspects I may have insulin resistance which is basically a short hop away from being a diabetic. Normally I'd say okay, no big deal, except that my father passed away due to complications from diabetes less than two months ago. I've seen what it can reduce someone to, and it's nothing short of terrifying.
It's a shock. I know if I don't turn this around soon, I'll be dead within about 20 years. I'd be in my early 40s.
In short, don't ignore something because you're afraid of what it might mean, it will happen anyway. Take care of yourself and those around you, and if something arises, confront it head-on.
Until next time...
Today I went to the doctor for the first time in a few years, he suspects I may have insulin resistance which is basically a short hop away from being a diabetic. Normally I'd say okay, no big deal, except that my father passed away due to complications from diabetes less than two months ago. I've seen what it can reduce someone to, and it's nothing short of terrifying.
It's a shock. I know if I don't turn this around soon, I'll be dead within about 20 years. I'd be in my early 40s.
In short, don't ignore something because you're afraid of what it might mean, it will happen anyway. Take care of yourself and those around you, and if something arises, confront it head-on.
Until next time...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Warm Up Already...
It takes a while for me to warm up to someone. A long, long while.
A big part of that is because I question people's motives, I want to be able to give without question, ask nothing in return, but still feel like what I'm giving is reciprocated in some way. It doesn't have to be sexual, far from it, telling me about yourself works wonders. Telling me what you don't want other people to know works even better. Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine, or show you.
Getting to the point where I can be fully open with someone takes months, if not longer. It's an effort, it's letting someone into my most private thoughts, and there are only a handful of people who have ever had that kind of access. I'd like to shorten the time, but at this point I'm not sure how. I'll leap, I'll give you a chance, but that doesn't mean I'll be comfortable.
It's something to work on, I'd like to be open with people from the start, but it's probably my best defense mechanism, so I'm not quite sure how that will work. I'd like to be able to approach people and be comfortable starting conversations without them having to approach me. I'd like to not be so awkward.
Just some thoughts from tonight...
A big part of that is because I question people's motives, I want to be able to give without question, ask nothing in return, but still feel like what I'm giving is reciprocated in some way. It doesn't have to be sexual, far from it, telling me about yourself works wonders. Telling me what you don't want other people to know works even better. Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine, or show you.
Getting to the point where I can be fully open with someone takes months, if not longer. It's an effort, it's letting someone into my most private thoughts, and there are only a handful of people who have ever had that kind of access. I'd like to shorten the time, but at this point I'm not sure how. I'll leap, I'll give you a chance, but that doesn't mean I'll be comfortable.
It's something to work on, I'd like to be open with people from the start, but it's probably my best defense mechanism, so I'm not quite sure how that will work. I'd like to be able to approach people and be comfortable starting conversations without them having to approach me. I'd like to not be so awkward.
Just some thoughts from tonight...
Hetero-norma-what???
Just so there's no confusion (because my definition may be different from yours) here is how I define heteronormative: An individual (male or female) who has a heterosexual orientation, their sexual identity matches that of their biological gender, and they fall into socially-defined gender roles.
As I've been roaming around the LGBTQ and Kink communities there seems to be such a stigma attached to being heterosexual or heteronormative and not only does it confuse me, but it's really quite disheartening. I don't understand how a community can stress tolerance and understanding of 'their own kind' and be active in pushing for equal rights and then turn around and box in the very people they're trying to win over. Shouldn't our very situation give us the empathy necessary to accept that not everyone is born or desires to be gay, lesbian, trans, queer, bisexual, poly, swinging, or kinky?
Don't get me wrong, I'll convert people to kink and whatever else I can faster than any preacher can drag someone to church, but at a certain point some people just don't feel that it's a part of them, and what is honestly wrong with that? We feel we have the right to say 'No, thank you.' when someone tries to push us into a heterosexual vanilla relationship, so shouldn't someone who desires that lifestyle have the option to say 'No, thank you.' to us? (To clarify, I'm not referring to homophobia or queer-bashing individuals. In my opinion there is no such thing as homophobia, just ignorance and intolerance of something someone doesn't understand, and as far as the bashing, I boil that down to fear. I know it exists, I've seen it, but that's not what I'm discussing today.)
Absolutely we still live in a world where the traditional and accepted relationship is heterosexual, and there are most certainly social pressures for women to behave in a feminine, delicate manner, and for men to adopt a masculine machismo, but how many people naturally fall into that category? I mean really... take a moment to consider how many people you know intimately who fall into those categories 100% of the time.
If you know one person, just one person... then you don't know them well enough.
If you had to paint a portrait of the scope of human sexuality, it wouldn't be crisp and defined lines, it would be blurred and foggy. There is no black and white, there are no hard and straight lines. We are all, at one time or another, breaking those gender-defined rules, it's just that some of us do it more often (and more effectively) than others. I will be the first to admit that I have a very divided personality when it comes to gender. A lot of my thoughts and actions can be very masculine, while others can be very feminine, and more often than not they are simply gender neutral. Certainly there are varying degrees depending on the person, but I would wager everything I have that no one can ever be defined as 'heteronormative'. Appearances especially tend to be misleading. A couple who appear to be the mainstream accepted carbon-copy of heterosexuality could, at home, be entirely different. Mrs. Hetero may drop the kids off at soccer practice and then go home, tie up Mr. Hetero when he walks through the door with his briefcase, and tell him he's a good little slut while she ties ribbons in his hair as a warm-up before their swinger party. You really can't know.
You always hear that everyone is different, and that's because it's true. It's not because each of us is a unique snowflake, but instead because each of us is simply just different. No one can live up to the idea of Normal, and if you ask me, no one should have to.
All I ask is that you keep an open mind no matter where you stand in the sexual spectrum. This isn't a lesson for any specific group, it's a lesson for everyone as human beings. It all boils down to having respect for other people's choices and acknowledging their right to make those choices for themselves.
If you're offended because Joe and Chris decide to get married in Iowa and buy a home and raise a family, get over it. Their choice doesn't change any part of your life.
If you're offended because Barbie and Ken decide to get married in Florida and they buy a mini-van and won't come to your poly-party-orgy, get over it. Their choice doesn't change any part of your life.
No where is it us versus them. Every little detail of human sexuality is all part of the same spectrum. We all fit together into one scope, there is no division and there are no borders.
No where is there a definition of normal.
As I've been roaming around the LGBTQ and Kink communities there seems to be such a stigma attached to being heterosexual or heteronormative and not only does it confuse me, but it's really quite disheartening. I don't understand how a community can stress tolerance and understanding of 'their own kind' and be active in pushing for equal rights and then turn around and box in the very people they're trying to win over. Shouldn't our very situation give us the empathy necessary to accept that not everyone is born or desires to be gay, lesbian, trans, queer, bisexual, poly, swinging, or kinky?
Don't get me wrong, I'll convert people to kink and whatever else I can faster than any preacher can drag someone to church, but at a certain point some people just don't feel that it's a part of them, and what is honestly wrong with that? We feel we have the right to say 'No, thank you.' when someone tries to push us into a heterosexual vanilla relationship, so shouldn't someone who desires that lifestyle have the option to say 'No, thank you.' to us? (To clarify, I'm not referring to homophobia or queer-bashing individuals. In my opinion there is no such thing as homophobia, just ignorance and intolerance of something someone doesn't understand, and as far as the bashing, I boil that down to fear. I know it exists, I've seen it, but that's not what I'm discussing today.)
Absolutely we still live in a world where the traditional and accepted relationship is heterosexual, and there are most certainly social pressures for women to behave in a feminine, delicate manner, and for men to adopt a masculine machismo, but how many people naturally fall into that category? I mean really... take a moment to consider how many people you know intimately who fall into those categories 100% of the time.
If you know one person, just one person... then you don't know them well enough.
If you had to paint a portrait of the scope of human sexuality, it wouldn't be crisp and defined lines, it would be blurred and foggy. There is no black and white, there are no hard and straight lines. We are all, at one time or another, breaking those gender-defined rules, it's just that some of us do it more often (and more effectively) than others. I will be the first to admit that I have a very divided personality when it comes to gender. A lot of my thoughts and actions can be very masculine, while others can be very feminine, and more often than not they are simply gender neutral. Certainly there are varying degrees depending on the person, but I would wager everything I have that no one can ever be defined as 'heteronormative'. Appearances especially tend to be misleading. A couple who appear to be the mainstream accepted carbon-copy of heterosexuality could, at home, be entirely different. Mrs. Hetero may drop the kids off at soccer practice and then go home, tie up Mr. Hetero when he walks through the door with his briefcase, and tell him he's a good little slut while she ties ribbons in his hair as a warm-up before their swinger party. You really can't know.
You always hear that everyone is different, and that's because it's true. It's not because each of us is a unique snowflake, but instead because each of us is simply just different. No one can live up to the idea of Normal, and if you ask me, no one should have to.
All I ask is that you keep an open mind no matter where you stand in the sexual spectrum. This isn't a lesson for any specific group, it's a lesson for everyone as human beings. It all boils down to having respect for other people's choices and acknowledging their right to make those choices for themselves.
If you're offended because Joe and Chris decide to get married in Iowa and buy a home and raise a family, get over it. Their choice doesn't change any part of your life.
If you're offended because Barbie and Ken decide to get married in Florida and they buy a mini-van and won't come to your poly-party-orgy, get over it. Their choice doesn't change any part of your life.
No where is it us versus them. Every little detail of human sexuality is all part of the same spectrum. We all fit together into one scope, there is no division and there are no borders.
No where is there a definition of normal.
Friday, October 22, 2010
TGIF
In celebration of Friday, I'm continuing my lazy-streak by posting this video. I made no contribution to it except maybe a thousand views, and simply find a very raw and inspirational truth in it.
Enjoy.
Doll Face by Andrew Thomas Huang
More credit info on YouTube Page.
Enjoy.
Doll Face by Andrew Thomas Huang
More credit info on YouTube Page.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Family Ties
You always here the expression 'you can't choose your family', and they would be absolutely right. Biologically, we are bound to those who bring us into the world, for better or for worse. Except there are no vows, no choice to be made, no first meeting jitters or comfortable rut three years later. You're born, you're there, you're stuck.
That's probably why I find the bonds of biologically unrelated families so attractive. It's a chosen family, people you have chosen to open yourself up to. For better or for worse comes with a question mark instead of a period, and while there are still arguments and rough patches, there is very little you can't work out.
I'm not saying this can't occur in biological families, but as I'm sure everyone has experienced at one point or another, sometimes you're just different. The plus-side is that there will always be somewhere where you fit just right, you just have to go looking for it.
Apologies for the cheesy business, there's just a lot going on upstairs.
That's probably why I find the bonds of biologically unrelated families so attractive. It's a chosen family, people you have chosen to open yourself up to. For better or for worse comes with a question mark instead of a period, and while there are still arguments and rough patches, there is very little you can't work out.
I'm not saying this can't occur in biological families, but as I'm sure everyone has experienced at one point or another, sometimes you're just different. The plus-side is that there will always be somewhere where you fit just right, you just have to go looking for it.
Apologies for the cheesy business, there's just a lot going on upstairs.
Flogging: Because When in Rome...
I love the sound as leather falls against skin. It's a symphony in a second, the light rustle of leather, the quick humming as it circles around, then the thwacking crescendo, a sigh and a moan, and the ebbing scrape as the leather slips over skin.
I met TT through Dark Odyssey's Summer Camp. We were both rooming in Incriminating Polaroids, organized by a group of very artistic and creative individuals. TT was attending with his partner and sub, B, and introduced himself before camp, via online messages. I couldn't have asked for a warmer person to speak with, and when camp finally rolled around, I felt almost instantly comfortable with him. B was a spirited woman with a friendly smile and deliciously curvy figure that gave her an all-around aura of pleasantness, and together they made quite a pair.
Later that evening, I watched my first dungeon session. TT and B were working-over a heavy bottom, S, her moans and screams just echoed the force of what she was feeling. It was nothing short of beautiful. Her face was glowing with what only can be described as absolute bliss, while TT's and B's faces reflected an intense concentration and focus. You could see them taking in all of S's movements, her twitches and her writhing, monitoring her every sound for the slightest sign of trouble. I knew halfway through I wanted to try.
After their session with S, we moved to a table towards the front of the dungeon, in front of the stage. It was late, and cold, but I was quite determined. After stripping down to just my underwear, I hopped up on the massage table, laying face down, arms outstretched in front of me. TT warmed me up slowly, feeling and spanking, before he pulled out the flogger. He started with a light suede that felt like air. I was surprised at the feeling, the sting was mild but radiated over my skin. I felt everything, down to the smallest movement of air around me. B assisted, checking on me regularly, keeping a watchful eye since this was my first time. TT moved to heavier floggers, checking in with me to see pain levels. I felt a taste of the bliss S had experienced. My mind was quiet (which rarely happens) and I just had this sensation of simply existing. TT discovered a distinct fondness for my ass, which turns all shades of pink and red easily, and after what felt like 20 minutes, nearly an hour had passed. The session was over, and I already wanted more.
Summer camp was comparable to swimming in warm water after standing in the wind, it was comfortable and safe; like realizing you have gills instead of lungs and finding your own kind. Kink requires that you turn yourself inward and dissect what it is that makes you who you are, why you enjoy the things you do. In my experience I've found that people who have a lot of self-reflection are more grounded and stable, because you need that grounding to explore the darker sides of yourself. It was incredible being around so many different people, all with very different and distinct tastes, but still having that uniting thread of commonality. For me it really was like being home. I didn't have to be concerned with how someone would react, because odds were very much in my favor that they had already experienced it. It was a comfort, and while I'm eternally grateful to my local friends who are kinky and/or kink friendly, summer camp was on a much greater scale and I hope to show my friends that as well. It galvanized my desire to live in an urban area, and I can't wait to experience more.
Until next time...
I met TT through Dark Odyssey's Summer Camp. We were both rooming in Incriminating Polaroids, organized by a group of very artistic and creative individuals. TT was attending with his partner and sub, B, and introduced himself before camp, via online messages. I couldn't have asked for a warmer person to speak with, and when camp finally rolled around, I felt almost instantly comfortable with him. B was a spirited woman with a friendly smile and deliciously curvy figure that gave her an all-around aura of pleasantness, and together they made quite a pair.
Later that evening, I watched my first dungeon session. TT and B were working-over a heavy bottom, S, her moans and screams just echoed the force of what she was feeling. It was nothing short of beautiful. Her face was glowing with what only can be described as absolute bliss, while TT's and B's faces reflected an intense concentration and focus. You could see them taking in all of S's movements, her twitches and her writhing, monitoring her every sound for the slightest sign of trouble. I knew halfway through I wanted to try.
After their session with S, we moved to a table towards the front of the dungeon, in front of the stage. It was late, and cold, but I was quite determined. After stripping down to just my underwear, I hopped up on the massage table, laying face down, arms outstretched in front of me. TT warmed me up slowly, feeling and spanking, before he pulled out the flogger. He started with a light suede that felt like air. I was surprised at the feeling, the sting was mild but radiated over my skin. I felt everything, down to the smallest movement of air around me. B assisted, checking on me regularly, keeping a watchful eye since this was my first time. TT moved to heavier floggers, checking in with me to see pain levels. I felt a taste of the bliss S had experienced. My mind was quiet (which rarely happens) and I just had this sensation of simply existing. TT discovered a distinct fondness for my ass, which turns all shades of pink and red easily, and after what felt like 20 minutes, nearly an hour had passed. The session was over, and I already wanted more.
Summer camp was comparable to swimming in warm water after standing in the wind, it was comfortable and safe; like realizing you have gills instead of lungs and finding your own kind. Kink requires that you turn yourself inward and dissect what it is that makes you who you are, why you enjoy the things you do. In my experience I've found that people who have a lot of self-reflection are more grounded and stable, because you need that grounding to explore the darker sides of yourself. It was incredible being around so many different people, all with very different and distinct tastes, but still having that uniting thread of commonality. For me it really was like being home. I didn't have to be concerned with how someone would react, because odds were very much in my favor that they had already experienced it. It was a comfort, and while I'm eternally grateful to my local friends who are kinky and/or kink friendly, summer camp was on a much greater scale and I hope to show my friends that as well. It galvanized my desire to live in an urban area, and I can't wait to experience more.
Until next time...
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Concerns
This blogging thing will get personal, and steamy, but I have a lot of thinking to do.
Living in the buckle of the Bible Belt leaves little room for anything other than complete anonymity, and while my experiences are limited, they do involve other people whose lives could be negatively impacted by what I write here. I'm kinky, and while I don't see a problem with it, local culture seems to think that any kinkster embodies the purest of evils. If supposed kinkster makes it out of a religious intervention alive without at least one attempt at being exorcised or converted, well they are one lucky individual. People who aren't monogamous and heterosexual and therefore 'different' are stigmatized to the point where you travel in tight circles, unable to trust just about everyone.
I will absolutely conceal their identities as much as possible, aliases and limited personal information are a given, but I'm not sure that's enough and that's a struggle for me. I've heard stories of blogger-drama and outings and would much rather stay out of it. If someone ever does care enough to read my blog and get offended, I want the lash-back on me, the responsible party, not my friends and acquaintances. Even though I've asked if I can mention certain people in detail, I can't be sure that they fully understand the gravity of public opinion if things do turn sour. Rednecks are ignorant, with deep-roots in both stigma and hypocrisy, and you simply can't stop stupid.
I will absolutely conceal their identities as much as possible, aliases and limited personal information are a given, but I'm not sure that's enough and that's a struggle for me. I've heard stories of blogger-drama and outings and would much rather stay out of it. If someone ever does care enough to read my blog and get offended, I want the lash-back on me, the responsible party, not my friends and acquaintances. Even though I've asked if I can mention certain people in detail, I can't be sure that they fully understand the gravity of public opinion if things do turn sour. Rednecks are ignorant, with deep-roots in both stigma and hypocrisy, and you simply can't stop stupid.
Granted, the chances are slim to none, but knowledge is power. If someone knows that I love nipple torture, both giving and especially receiving, I could care less. But would the other party involved care that their participation is not only public, but that they've been identified?
Something to think about. Because even though this is the internet, it involves real people.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Mission
I'm going to try (try being the operative word) to post something once a day for the remainder of the year. I'd love to commit myself to something more challenging, like a year, but let's be real. I have commitment issues with motivation. It may strike me six months through that I want to be a hippie with no cell phone and no Internet, unlikely, but you never know.
So, it may be a story or a photo that I find interesting, it may be an outlook or just a word, but once a day at least, through the remainder of 2010, it's a date with my computer.
So, it may be a story or a photo that I find interesting, it may be an outlook or just a word, but once a day at least, through the remainder of 2010, it's a date with my computer.
Cube
Remember elementary school, where on the first day you played silly games to break the ice and get to know everyone? This is something like that.
The Cube is a Kokology game meant to reflect your personality in an image. The different things, as they are added, create a portrait of yourself without actually considering yourself. I have shared my Cube with only a few people, but in an effort to break the ice, here it is.
The Desert:
A warm area at sunset, the sand is an intense terracotta with creams and siennas blending effortlessly together. The landscape gently slopes and the sand ripples in the wind, like a fluid entity that’s living of it’s own accord. Mountains rise in the distance, a soft purple color, dwarf-like on the horizon. Behind it is a canvas of pulsing streaks of blues, purples, reds and oranges, soft violet clouds that are barely wisps. Everything radiates color in it’s purest and most concentrated hue, and the sun sets as a blot of rust fading off the page. Shadows are cast by the mountains, failing to reach the place where I’m standing. There are no signs of life, no plants, no animals, just the desert.
The Cube:
My cube is approximately 3 feet in height and hovers above the sand maybe 6 feet from my perspective to the right. It’s made of a blue metallic material that doesn’t sparkle or shimmer, but shines where the light hits it, almost a glossy finish that makes it look liquid instead of solid. The blue color is a vivid electric hue, neither light nor dark, but balanced. The cube doesn’t spin, or move, it simply floats with nothing to support it or connect it to anything.
The Ladder:
When the ladder is added the perspective changes, I’m standing on the ladder looking down at the cube. The ladder is a simple wooden A-frame that’s old and worn not from use, but by weather and time. By the looks of it, it wouldn’t be someones first choice of ladder if they had to use one but it serves it’s purpose. The grain is a sand-blasted brown with a grey patina, similar to an old fence or barn.
The Horse:
The horse, once added, races across the horizon, entering in from the right and arcing around the area where the cube is located. It’s far away, but not so far that you can’t pick up the details. It’s a glazed chestnut in color, a white streak down its face along it’s nose. Eighteen hands tall and musculature obviously pristine, the shadows and highlights can be seen as it runs, the dips and crests and movement as its muscles press the horse onward.
The Storm:
A storm broods over the mountains, clouds dark and ominous, lighting streaking across the sky, forking and dividing numerous times. The storm doesn’t move closer, and doesn’t effect the immediate surroundings from my perspective, the wind whistles through the area but other than that there is no change.
The Flowers:
I hold flowers in my hand, the angle that I’m looking down shows my arm up to my elbow, hand clutching at a tightly bunched bouquet. Made up of hyacinths, tiger lilies, hibiscuses, and little bits of plumeria at the perimeter, dozens are bound together, wound up with floral wire and tape.
As with all psychological games, all of the items correspond to a different element of your life. The desert represents the player's outlook on life, the cube relates to how the player views themselves, the ladder is indicative of family and friends or relationships, the horse represents lovers or passions, the storm indicates stresses and how it relates to the player's life, and the flowers relate to children or accomplishments.
You can find more information on the game here: The Cube
Although it can be interpreted thousands of ways, it gives a fairly accurate image of someone. I'm showing this so maybe you can get an idea of how I view the world.
This blog is simply an outlet. After having made introductions, we can get to the more eventful things.
Until another time...
The Cube is a Kokology game meant to reflect your personality in an image. The different things, as they are added, create a portrait of yourself without actually considering yourself. I have shared my Cube with only a few people, but in an effort to break the ice, here it is.
The Desert:
A warm area at sunset, the sand is an intense terracotta with creams and siennas blending effortlessly together. The landscape gently slopes and the sand ripples in the wind, like a fluid entity that’s living of it’s own accord. Mountains rise in the distance, a soft purple color, dwarf-like on the horizon. Behind it is a canvas of pulsing streaks of blues, purples, reds and oranges, soft violet clouds that are barely wisps. Everything radiates color in it’s purest and most concentrated hue, and the sun sets as a blot of rust fading off the page. Shadows are cast by the mountains, failing to reach the place where I’m standing. There are no signs of life, no plants, no animals, just the desert.
The Cube:
My cube is approximately 3 feet in height and hovers above the sand maybe 6 feet from my perspective to the right. It’s made of a blue metallic material that doesn’t sparkle or shimmer, but shines where the light hits it, almost a glossy finish that makes it look liquid instead of solid. The blue color is a vivid electric hue, neither light nor dark, but balanced. The cube doesn’t spin, or move, it simply floats with nothing to support it or connect it to anything.
The Ladder:
When the ladder is added the perspective changes, I’m standing on the ladder looking down at the cube. The ladder is a simple wooden A-frame that’s old and worn not from use, but by weather and time. By the looks of it, it wouldn’t be someones first choice of ladder if they had to use one but it serves it’s purpose. The grain is a sand-blasted brown with a grey patina, similar to an old fence or barn.
The Horse:
The horse, once added, races across the horizon, entering in from the right and arcing around the area where the cube is located. It’s far away, but not so far that you can’t pick up the details. It’s a glazed chestnut in color, a white streak down its face along it’s nose. Eighteen hands tall and musculature obviously pristine, the shadows and highlights can be seen as it runs, the dips and crests and movement as its muscles press the horse onward.
The Storm:
A storm broods over the mountains, clouds dark and ominous, lighting streaking across the sky, forking and dividing numerous times. The storm doesn’t move closer, and doesn’t effect the immediate surroundings from my perspective, the wind whistles through the area but other than that there is no change.
The Flowers:
I hold flowers in my hand, the angle that I’m looking down shows my arm up to my elbow, hand clutching at a tightly bunched bouquet. Made up of hyacinths, tiger lilies, hibiscuses, and little bits of plumeria at the perimeter, dozens are bound together, wound up with floral wire and tape.
As with all psychological games, all of the items correspond to a different element of your life. The desert represents the player's outlook on life, the cube relates to how the player views themselves, the ladder is indicative of family and friends or relationships, the horse represents lovers or passions, the storm indicates stresses and how it relates to the player's life, and the flowers relate to children or accomplishments.
You can find more information on the game here: The Cube
Although it can be interpreted thousands of ways, it gives a fairly accurate image of someone. I'm showing this so maybe you can get an idea of how I view the world.
This blog is simply an outlet. After having made introductions, we can get to the more eventful things.
Until another time...
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