Reflections - Blog Posts

I always am my strongest with backgrounds.

Ya de regreso!! Después de representar junto a otras pintoras y pintores a México en la exhibición Tláloc 2018 en el #museodelaacuarela del estado de México ha regresado a su hogar. "Inception" Disponible el original (56 x 36 cm) y giclée (serie cerrada de 25 reproducciones de 45 x 30 cm c/u) . Ambos con certificado de autenticidad. . . . . . . . #acuarelacontemporanea #contemporarywatercolor #watercolorpainting #insight #reflections #framed #exposed #watercolor #mexicanart #mexicanartist #contemporaryartist #newnarratives #cristal #spaces #handsandfeet #artcurator #isaaccm (en Distrito Federal, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs6nYjpgfTn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=mzavwxhawnlr

Calcita con fluorita incrustada. Pronto les mostraré cómo se unirán estos últimos dibujos. . . . . . . . #watercolor_art #contemporaryartist #contemporarywatercolour #rocks #semiprecious #smallformat #reflections #gemstone #watercolordrawing #aquarelle #davincibrushes #watercolor #yellowandviolet #tiempopresente #isaacCM (en Mexico City, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqGOJo8goc7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1fhgrumj7kosj

Al fin grabo un video de proceso con mi acuarela y una llamada interrumpe la grabación 👹. Me hubiera gustado que se grabara la aplicación del fondo ... Ya será para la próxima 😢. . . . . . . . . #gemstone #watercolor_art #rocks #Acuarela #acuarelacontemporanea #realism #flowing #process #reflections #inert #slowmovement #aquarelle #reflejos #granate #cuarzo #quartz #isaacCM (en Mexico City, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpPI6sLgvKP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19pux47in4a7o

De pequeño tengo pocos recuerdos, la mayoría provienen del tiempo en que mi abuela me cuidaba. Ella tenía un huevo en tamaño natural hecho de cristal. Los reflejos que destellaban en él me fascinaban, pero era hasta que me acercaba a mirarlo cuando encontraba lo más intrigante y por consiguiente encantador: las imágenes se invertían dentro del huevo, no importaba cuánto giraba la cabeza la imagen giraba también. Esta sola visión era capaz de entretenerme por largos periodos, por desgracia siendo niño me estaba prohibido agarrarlo y siempre estaba bien vigilado. El huevo y yo le sobrevivimos a mi abuela y con la fascinación igual viva me sigo perdiendo en sus reflejos. Al sostenerlo se vuelve paradójico: me miro a mí mismo mirándome, y metafórico a la vez: dentro de un huevo. . . . . . . #grannydays #miabuelamemima #acuarelas #metafora #cristal #reflejos #introspeccion #hands #instaart #remembers #reflections #watercolorart #watercolor_art #contemporarypainter #contemporarywatercolour #isaacCM (en Mexico City, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BozTzpxhtBD/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=hjclk2sa3pj6

Ejercitando el músculo del sueño. . . . #dreams #nightdrawing #sketching #graphite #egg #cristal #reflejos #pencilonpaper #miniature #process #blackandwhite #sketchbook #reflections #mechanicalpencil #duermevela #fingers #boceto #linedrawing #isaacCM https://www.instagram.com/p/BnSgk7XBWmY/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=v41vdipqpie5

You once mentioned transcending class boundaries under the spell of a man's manliness... sounds like an interesting story, tell us more?

I thought I had already written about it, or maybe I didn't. Not sure. If not, maybe will write about it someday.

What I mean is a continuation of what I've been telling. My being with men isn't necessarily always out of romantic interest. In most cases they have been out of the primal urge. For that urge to be generated, all that matters is the right mix of hormones from the two partners. It doesn't depend on the financial or societal or any other attributes.

And that happened with me too when I met someone and just like that the hormones in me mixed to be just right to feel drawn to him and be with him.

Maybe someday will write about it when I get the right feel to.

Damn lady, you should write erotica! Autobiographical or not. If you want to stay anonymous, well, Belle de Jour did it before.

Nyaah, I think the only reason people read my posts are because of the photos that I reblog alongwith. And yeah, writing is serious stuff. What I do is thought-dumping of my experiences.

Btw, I actually had to Google to find out about BdJ.

"... Mind turning around?"

(Repost - after Tumblr moral policing)

It is indeed funny to observe a fully grown, quite-masculine a man to show his softer side and request for a permission to use my hips. And mind it, it’s not something that’s apparent only in the men I have known before, but even with most that I have been sent as a courtesan to, or even by the ones I got myself ‘hunted’ down and then taken away with him.

I have observed that most men, feel that the conquest over their woman isn’t complete until they have done something that is drastic enough to either make their efforts to do it look satisfactory, or, they have inflicted (which sometimes may just be a belief) pain on their woman to make her cringe before him and submit. Both of these conditions are satisfied when they receive the consent to do it there, for no matter how experienced one is, it still needs effort to get into the ‘position’ and the inflicted ‘pain’ when the union happens.

In either case, an element of force becomes necessary for him to convey the message to the woman that she is his property, for minutes/hours/days, however temporary the ownership is. The need to establish control has been a fundamental criteria, more with the men who have hunted me and those I have been sent to as a part of my courtesan arrangement. My husbands have been more secure and they know that they don’t need to ask me for my permission to use my hips. They have developed the ability to sense my mood and know the answer even before they would ask. The hunters, on the other hand would feel the need to exert authority and it is often when after they have attained the primary satisfaction, and is in mood to pleasure himself once more, would have popped the question, “mind turning around? really feel like using your hips”…well, that’s actually a much watered down version of the actual words used to convey their desire.

Being asked that question makes me feel proud as a woman. It tells me that he found me attractive enough to want to explore more about me. The element of pain involved in allowing a man to 'use my hips’ is always present, but the satisfaction from knowing that I am being owned by him and he is getting satisfaction from ‘using me’ for that phase is exciting enough for me to usually consent to his request for use.

For some reason I am not able to send you direct messages. Just have a small confession to make - I recently cheated on my fiancée and it all came out bad and nasty - she got really badly hurt and i just now stopped spiralling down in guilt and shame and agony. I wish she heals soon and the love and trust regrows. I had posted and reposted a lot of shit so far, 99.99% promiscuous. The last reply of yours to a booksandquotes blog post was so deep and beautiful, could not resist writing to you.

I am not sure why you aren’t able to send a direct message, but I am happy to receive messages here, rather than directly to me. To begin with that quote wasn’t mine. I just re-blogged that quote because like you, I also found it a very meaningful one.

If I go slightly deeper into the situation you described, I think you are confusing between two things. It is one thing to read about someone else’s life in a blog and fantasize about it. It is quite another to accept one’s own principles and be at peace with own conscience. The trick is to be able to reconcile with what YOU want. It is not about seeing someone else’s life and imagining enacting their part. It never works…in fact, as you may have experienced it, it can be devastating. One of the reasons why it can be devastating is because when someone is trying to copy another’s life, he/she is only able to copy the physical manifestation of the other’s life…what one doesn’t realize, or rather get to know is what the other person went through in his/her mind when he/she committed to that act (the mere manifestation of which excites the audience). Thus the picture the reader gets is only half…only the physical part. He doesn’t get to know of the emotional turmoil that the character has gone through.

Naturally, when one imitates without having the full story, set-back is obvious. Coming back to the concept of cheating, one possible reason why I may have been able to survive in my lifestyle is because I have never labelled myself a cheater to any of my men…i don’t care what others label me, they are not living my life, I am, and I am very clear to my conscience. So far (and I don’t know how far it will be sustainable, so far it has), I have been able to compartmentalize ‘love’, ‘lust’ and ‘love & sex’ and never overlapped them.

So, please never make the mistake of falling for something that you do not possess full information of, as it could well lead to shame and agony and severe mistrust. I sincerely hope that with time you are reunited with your loved one and…and you don’t fall into the same hole again.

Cheers.

Labor Day reflections: the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s primary mirror reflects an American flag hanging overhead.⁣ ⁣ The mirror, which will collect and focus light from cosmic objects near and far, has been completed. Renamed after our first chief astronomer and "Mother of Hubble," the Roman Space Telescope will capture stunning space vistas with a field of view 100 times greater than Hubble Space Telescope images. The spacecraft will study the universe using infrared light, which human eyes can’t detect without assistance. ⁣ ⁣ This Labor Day, we thank all the people who work to advance the future for humanity.⁣ ⁣ Credit: L3Harris Technologies⁣ Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com ⁣

As I Empty The Clip | "A Return To Love."

February 19, 2020

"Be patient with me.

Im doing my best to open up and surrender my vulnerability with you but it takes time

Understanding my feelings don’t come so easy to me as it may to you but I’m eager to know them

But-

I mess up sometimes, I hurt other times, I laugh, and sing and shout with joy, but I also cry sometimes

And it may not be all that you’re seeking and I don’t expect you to but respect my timing is all I’m asking for

I love really hard and I care very deeply but I worry if that same passion would be returned to me 10 fold,

would it be misunderstood? Would it be too much? Things like that

I'm unlearning old habits of fleeing in the midst of confusion and misunderstanding or just shutting off

completely

I know its not healthy but I’m doing the work of seeing myself

But do not think that this is my call for help, I’ve done that a long time ago,

just a letter for deeper understanding so you can know partially, why I do the things I do.

That it isn’t out of spite but a trauma response

I am not my trauma

I can change

My past doesn’t define me

Nor does your vision of me

So be easy with my unbecoming or don’t be here at all

Challenge me but don’t abuse my soft spots

I've been through enough of that already

I’m due for new

I’m due for some proper loving,

So on the days when I don’t feel so whole or together ask me, in what ways do you need to be loved today?

And I’ll tell you open and honestly

But only if you are patient with me."

©Robin Fifield 2023.

Whispers in the dark, Silent minds in focus, Shadows stretch their tales. ( ͡️˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

Echoes

Every shadow we cast on one another

drowns our light and leaves us blind

Observation and recognition

of their origins set us free

let us see reflections of ourselves

and what lies behind

Blinded By Shadows 🌑⚡🌕

If one looks into the light

And instinctively turns away

In fear, with aching eyes,

It might have been 

That one has stood 

In the darkness

For a long time

Know Thyself 🌀

I'm not your critic,

not your gaping wounds of the past.

I'm not your reactions

they tell your stories.

I'm not your fear

of losing yourself.

I'm not your shame & hate

for being yourself.

I'm not your fear

of intimacy.

I'm not the mirror

you mistake me for.

Thats the mirror

of yourself.

I think we’re all broken, 

you whisper to the dark shimmering water lapping against the hull. 

I can see our reflections—

You, halved in white and 

Me, fading to black like an old film reel. 

Broken how? 

I don’t really need you to answer, not really. We’re cursed,

I know and you know, too, so you just laugh. 

Even that sounds like shattering glass. 

What is it about stars and streetlights and silent European nights 

          that tear us open to the core?

Cursed, you whisper, 

And suddenly thousands of years worth of history and ghosts and 

          fiends are clamouring for release beneath 

The liquid obsidian rocking the boat. 

Cursed, I whisper, but remind me:

Aren’t curses simply blessings from below?

.

— Cruise on the Danube (y.c.)