I’m feeling boldly randy with this month’s cycle. What started as attempts to practice hands (Curses! Why are they all sausages?!) has become something else. Not to be plain, I want to play with how to express emotion with the hands. I’m always looking for something I’ve never tried. Just to add some extra difficulty, I decide to work on musculature alongside the difficulty of meat fingers.
Maybe it was bound to happen. Muscles, hands, and mood… “Percussion. Strings. Winds. Words.”
I have no bias. I’m a lover of loving love.
Or maybe I am bias in the way that I like to explore boundaries. Could it be a defense mechanism or an anxious need for validation? Perhaps it’s just way to deal with boredom.
I’m always working out for ways to play with perspective. Not simply angles, I’m playing with the mind’s interpretation.
I’ve got a bee in my bonnet. I might have a thing for mouths. Maybe it’s because I’m mighty mouthy. Blame the southerner in me.
Somewhere I read that Hugh Hefner likes to use the hint of a man being present to create a scene. I’m pondering if it’s to let the male viewer insert themselves into the role. For my doodles, it’s a caught glance, a knowing that remains unspoken.
I’m in on the secret. I know the handshake and they just put on my jam.
It’s a smut phase and I’m not sorry about it.
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