The Culture that has been here all the time

This is worth my breaking my silence. My cat Sunny Day loves it when I play my guitar and sing to him LOL.

I am 78, but as active as if I were 70. There is a lot of mileage left in this old guy. Certain places where I see people in my age group are: 1. old-age homes, 2. Hospitals, and 3. senior centers. Throughout history, families and communities were a blend of all age groups. My family used to be like that, but it seems less common in our country over time. Just two decades back, when my late wife and I belonged to a large church, if someone died, the widow or widower was immediately supported, even to the point of a rapid remarriage. It seems contrary to what I thought, but it seemed a new spouse was waiting in the wings when one was nearing their demise. Even this is not enough to send me back to religion. I keep repeating I want a companion, but not at the price of my integrity. pixabay pix

Dearest Muse,

I, for now, must love you in my imagination. You are with me when I rise and have my morning coffee, let the dog out in the backyard, and feed my cat. Together we survey the calendar and plan our day. We see which chores must be accomplished and whether we have any appointments.

Without warning, you put your arms around me and say, "I love you." I pause and say, "I love you more." We laugh together.

We are grateful and happy to have another day together.

Maybe we'll shop for some fresh food or take a ride through the hills, forest, and farms. We will stop occasionally to talk to animals close enough to the road.

I hold you in my heart and cherish you wherever you are at this very moment.

Love

Andron (image pixabay)

For most of my life, I have been honest to a fault. No, I am human despite my brother's, some of whom think I am an alien. I did smoke pot in my teens, and I drank alcohol starting around fourteen, when I also began smoking cigarettes. I stole some food when my mom was raising me and two of my brothers. I took a tool now and then. What am I trying to say? I am real.

I began to understand as I was aging, and my wife's disease was surely taking her away from me. Not in death long before that. I knew I did not want to end my days alone. I began to look for a woman to love and love me. So here is the real me too.

I still look young for my age. I am active, and my mind is very sharp. My capacity to love a woman has increased with life experience. BUT: I have survived congestive heart failure since 2005 and continue to do so with healthcare. I abstain from alcohol, which affects me negatively in more than one way. I wear hearing aids. My left eye has a cataract beginning to form. I have arthritis here and there, so I use those joints to keep them working, but the most challenging is that I probably need my right hip replaced.  

So if a muse and lover wants me despite all that, you have to take me as I am. pixabay image

I had a surprise dream last night. I had friends visit me, we jammed a few old songs, played chess, and I was slightly better than I used to be. After a while, I introduced them to a couple of my favorite BBC TV programs. We did have pizza and drinks, including some cola (a treat since I usually just drink soda or water with lemon). We talked endlessly about the weather. The biggest surprise? They told me they would visit once a week.

The idea of a domestic sub who can help me in everyday life was presented to me when I was weighed down as a caregiver for eight years as my wife declined. It sounded great until the woman who introduced me to BDSM tricked me into giving her money ( some others did as well). I truly need a domestic sub now, as my housework is not what it used to be. I only just began to appreciate BDSM when things became more critical in my caregiver role.

If I were to meet a woman who was a submissive, domestic, and kinky BDSM woman, I would be overjoyed. I would work hard to make our relationship work, probably fall in love, and practice more kinky things and offer her what good things I could.

"Good morning, dear.  I hope you slept well and had pleasant dreams. Here is a hug and a kiss. I am making coffee, and I will be making breakfast soon. Is there anything special I can make you? I have bagels and muffins, and the best fresh eggs I could buy. When it is ready, do you want me to bring it to you, or will you come down to eat it?"

When looking for something fails, it cranks up my anxiety. I can't seem to shake it today. My cat and dog tried, but to no avail. When anxiety flares up at this level, and nothing seems to quench it, it generates the stark picture of a lonely life. A comforting embrace would go a long way, but it is missing, and it's something I can not buy.

A wise black woman I knew a half-century ago often counseled me on my way of thinking. Her simple question was so thought-provoking that I have never forgotten her words, "What does what you are thinking (or believing) have to do with that?" Sometimes she paraphrased it to fit a situation. How she became an impromptu counselor, I do not recall.

The situation was when I was in an emotionally dark place, and the information I had available to me was scarce and often inaccurate, so my mind, being so intensely active, filled all the blanks, and as many of you know from my blog, that is not good because I chose to see things in a negative light.

The missing solution then and now is the same: a warm, comforting embrace. Since I communicate most effectively with human touch, offering and receiving, and I am living in what may be the darkest cave of my life. If only I had just one candle offered to me. images pixabay

UPDATE: I found dozens of my paintings in my self-storage unit. My anxiety dropped very well. I will sleep much better tonight. Also, I will go over my new website notes before I build it; the first step will establish it, and the second step later will offer my artwork for sale again.

Since I have been painting artworks sporadically for almost 60 years, I have a collection that could use some administrative work. Van Gogh's sister-in-law did it after his demise. and Hooper's wife during their long marriage. I prefer a woman, as I am kinky, and I still am a heterosexual man. I was introduced to BDSM when I needed a helper when I cared for my wife (not a nurse), the woman who was to provide me with a domestic kinky sub never followed through, and she fooled me out of money. Now it is the time I could use more help, because as I am getting older. I do have things to offer her the potential in return for her service. It is always symbiosis in the real world.
We should be compatible and affectionate to each other, and live a life working together for each other's benefit. I have a house with a manageable mortgage and a paid-off car, food, and utilities.
If I do find the right sub, we would not be lonesome travelers in a messy, unpredictable world any longer.

Now that I have allowed the artist in me to live once more, I have reawakened so much. The complex mindset, as I love experimenting with different mediums and subjects. Photos are good to the degree they don't move and are consistent and varied (beyond what I have in front of me). But photos lack one important feature: I can't touch and feel the subject.

In my early days, I mostly painted landscapes, seascapes, and abstract ideas. One art teacher explained portrait painting as he did it. He collected photos, made sketches of the actual person in front of him, and explained his thoughts as he planned the final product. His work sold for a price I can only dream of.

Yes, I will experiment, focus on different subjects, try different mediums, but I fear I may never have a companion, a lover, to feel and know intimately again. Now that I am free to paint nudes, ¹ nothing would be better than painting a lover I can embrace and love. Paint her image in different ways and settings. Pixabay images

1 My wife was a sub and sexually free in our bedroom, but chose a religion that frowned on nude paintings. I followed her to church and complied with her attitude, but I knew we both truly didn't see art in a sinful light.