How Are You So Sure? Because the Universe Provides

"How are you so sure?" I asked a friend that question, in awe of his certainty that he's where he's meant to be in life and will get every and anything he wants and needs.


He pointed to the walls of the studio where we sat and each poster on the wall had a story. He could recount all the laughs and tears and the gifts he received and things he lost. He expresses gratitude for all he has and goes through life fearlessly. Not to be confused with foolishly.

We were hanging out that day because I needed his energy. I always feel good in his presence. I feel heard and I'm guaranteed a piece of sage advice from him. 

I was on vacation a few weeks prior and questioning my direction in life. I was internalizing all the change in New York. There was this resistance in me against being the 'naked man photographer'. I was discouraged at my living situation and bank account balances. 

It's hard to look on the bright side at times and go forward knowing I will be taken care of. Even though I'm ten years removed, depression has rewired my brain. My usually optimistic, determined nature is sometimes shattered with hopelessness, despair and fear.

Interview about Writing and Self-Publishing a Book

In Las Vegas for my book signing, December 2015

You win some, you lose some, but in the end you can post it on your blog.


I was contacted by a women's blog for an interview about writing a book and self-publishing. That was a few months ago and it's safe to say that they won't be running the piece so I'm sharing it here:

Don't Break His Face in Case of Emergency

Photo: Ruth Fremson/The New York Times

If you were in New York City last night, Saturday, February 13 and tried to catch a downtown A or C train between 9:30 and 11 PM, you were assed out. The train I was on was the cause of the delay. The train car I was in on the A Train - 6129 - was the cause of the delay. The white man I gave that "don't sit near me" look to was the cause of the delay. He pulled the emergency brake.

I didn't know that when I first looked at him. He merely looked slightly left of center and I didn't want to be bothered. He was coherent and lucid enough to know what my look meant and kept it moving to the next set of seats.

Then I heard chatter from the center of the car - "he did it" "yeah, that white dude right there" "emergency brake" "that nigga right there"

I looked towards the people talking, "What? This dude pulled the emergency brake?" I asked motioning at him with my thumb.

"Yeah!" I saw the red cord pulled at the other end of the car and then shot a death glare at the man. Another woman sitting at the opposite end of the car, on the other side of him, asked what was going on.

"This man right here," I pointed wishing the power of anger behind my menacing point would pierce his eyeball, "pulled the fucking emergency brake."

She went off too.

And we sat there.

Somewhere between 125th and 59th street. In the tunnel.

Please Remit Payment To

I'm sure this has happened to you: you find a charming restaurant, get all excited about the menu, the ambiance, the "there's something about them" staff and decide to dine at the establishment. Then you're hit with the cash-only edict that you missed earlier. If you really want to eat at that restaurant, an ATM run is usually the next step. Do you ask that they accept your payment via credit card? I have never witnessed someone try to convince a cash-only restaurant to accept their credit or debit card. Perhaps it's happened but I've never been privy to that. Once you've agreed to enter into a business relationship with that restaurant you pay according to their terms.


If your boss told you, "I'm not comfortable signing your checks so I will pay you with a gift card", would that go over well with you?


Didn't think so.

Workspace Energy

Every once in a while I get stuck. It's not a writer's block because I kind of feel stuck in all aspects of my life - the writing, blogging, photography, journaling, working out, diet, sleeping - I even get stuck watching the same shows and having pointless exchanges of 'hey' 'what's up?' 'we should get together' over and over and over with dudes I really don't care for.


I'm a big believer in the power energy holds over someone. Stagnant energy in your home or office can also affect your day-to-day and your work. I was asked by WeWork what my ideal workspace would be like. Hmm...


Not sure about "ideal" but let me tell you about my current workspace: my room. I got my desktop, laptop, pens, loose paper, notebooks cause a writer gotta write and a writer gotta type. Two different things in my world. I have a stereo with speakers for ambient music and high-energy music blasting that fuels my photo editing marathons. My desk chair is a 65cm exercise ball. Ultra comfy. Great for bouncing and rocking when I get into my music and keeps my hips loose which is important since I'm sitting for long stretches sometimes. I have a big window that floods the room with sunlight. I need a window to gaze out of or  to open for fresh air. If I need inspiration, I can keep tabs on my neighbors. I have snacks and drinks at the ready too. Food is fuel and I'm a machine when I'm working.

My Writing Process - Blog Tour

It's unreal the number of notes that were passed in class between Glendaliz Camacho and myself between 6th and 8th grade. Not only the number of notes but the sheer volume of the written exchanges. Since then she's been published numerous times and is working on her short story collection ("La Baca" still thrills me) and will be included in an upcoming anthology. She's been a huge supporter of my blog and has wielded the red pen against my words. 

This is the cyber-version of passing a note -- Glendaliz asked me if I'd like to participate in this blog tour. It's good timing since my focus lately has been everywhere. Not in a bad way. Just that there are quite a few projects I have going on right now that are at different phases of development and taking some time to think about only my writing is needed.

Can't fight fate. We were destined to be writers. 

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What are you working on?

I'm working on some stuff. 

I work to maintain this blog and it's many focuses -- the personal writing, the sex, dating and relationship writing, body image, rants on the idiocy of society, Ask Abbie, the guest posts, NY posts for my Native Creative Concierge business, Planet of the Apes -- there's a system to my Random Musings. 

I want a syndicated writing gig - a column. One that I get paid for. I need to do more work on getting that. 

The 5th anniversary edition of The Darker Side of Lust is also on my To-Do List.

The Positive of Mercury Retrograde

 

Old photo from my trip to GA. Photo taken by my bro, "Kid"

Merely writing this blog post is indicative of Mercury Retrograde. Lately my work and creative energies have been focused on photography and exercise and fitness -- areas of my life that I've gone back to recently.


Revise, Rewrite, Rework, Relearn, Rekindle...



Bare Men is a major focus point right now. The project has taken on new life. I'll even be able to preview images this spring in an exhibit -- I've found a home for my nude men.

Rising Waters 2.0 Exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York

UPDATE: The Rising Waters 2.0 exhibit has been extended until March 31, 2014!

"Chinatown Eternal Dusk", November 2, 2012

I received the news on Wednesday night. One of the photos that I took during the days following Hurricane Sandy will be included in the special presentation, Rising Waters 2.0. at the Museum of the City of New York. I did my best to contain my excitement that night but believe me, I sent texts with lots of exclamation points and took one of my "leaps of glee" when I got home.



Once the winds died down, I ventured out to Prospect Park, Park Slope, SoHo, LES, Chinatown, Tribeca and the Financial District to see how those neighborhoods were faring without power after Hurricane Sandy. Images from my time in SoHo ended up on seriouseats and ArtINFO and were requested by ABC's The Chew.

Baby's First Look

This morning, half way between awake and sleep I was having one of my visions. I differentiate those from lucid dreams because I'm clearly conscious and thinking. Anyway, in this vision I was changing my baby's diapers. She had both hands in her mouth, cooing away, relishing the feeling of the cool baby wipe over her booty and baby coochie. Just chilling.


When I put her legs down, she looked at me. She stopped moving her saliva-covered hands and looked at me. I looked back down at her.

Le Flâneur Et Son Pain

Re-working of Paul Gavarni's Le Flâneur from 1842 by Spenot

Here's the latest vignette I wrote for my French lessons. I started early last month with I met Anthony Bourdain. He was bound to inspire me. A few years ago a friend was reading a book about a wandering man, le flâneur. It's stuck with me ever since, even if the term isn't a common one in French (according to my French buddy). My imagination continues to flourish. My French is... coming along.

Why I Locked Them All Down

Back in the Saddle

Photograph by Daniel Dolpire

I think I made a huge mistake.


I jumped the gun when I locked down Boy Toy. Oxy is a helluva drug.


I wasn't wrong in locking him down. My mistake was thinking I'd want to lock him and only him down.

The Darker Side of Lust 5th Anniversary Poll

Could this be the last time you see The Legs?

This year in particular I've really noticed how time flies -- Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day -- all a blur. Any one in the Northern Hemisphere remember spring? Whoa.


I saw candy corn on display last week and refused to buy any. It's too soon!


That being said, it hit me that December is right around the corner. December 2014 is not far behind that. 12/14 marks 5 years since I published my erotic short story collection, The Darker Side of Lust.


I will release a 5th Anniversary Edition but what about it will say "Fabulous Five" Years? I have a few ideas but I also need your help deciding! Please take a few seconds to vote in my poll -- one question, four choices!


It will be 2014 before we know it...

Mon Amie With The Expensive Bags Et Non D'argent

Photo by Abigail Ekue Photography

Using a lot of the vocabulary I learned during my last French-English exchange, I forced myself to write in the past tense and to write questions  -- both things I haven't grasped yet. I originally intended this French lesson assignment to be a "see dog run" paragraph. It quickly devolved into a story. I'm a writer. I can't help myself. I have a flair for the dramatic at times.

My Progress With The French Language

photograph de mon livre

As some of you know, I've been learning French. When I have time, I do lessons on Rosetta Stone and I meet with a language buddy -- she's learning English and I'm learning French. I've done a worse job lately of making time for my lessons and I've had to learn to take à pas de bébé.


Last week, I wrote a paragraph in French. Using some of the vocabulary I'd recently learned, I embarked on the challenge:

Slut Shaming, Miscommunication And Amazing Sex

Back in the Saddle

I saw George again. A week had passed since we'd last been together when I received a text from him during rush hour which read, "You must be in need of a massage later".


I will never decline his invites (as long as I'm free) due to his track record of sexing me down and his actual massages. We settled on the when and the what I should bring with me:  massage oil -- and condoms.

I'm working with a good stash so that wasn't an issue. The issue came moments later.

The Oxy Made Me Lock Him Down

Back in the Saddle

The "him" I locked down is in fact my Boy Toy. The entry  --"The Oxy Made Me Lock Him Down" -- from my Back in the Saddle series has been published in Senshēǝnt Magazine!

Senshēǝnt Magazine is for the 'sexually empowered woman' and allows access to a wealth of experience and information. Check out the magazine here! 

Join us on Facebook to share your personal experiences and expansion! 

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The Brief Wondrous Life of My FWB

Back in the Saddle

Our view from the water

Before George, before my Boy Toy, there was Fuddy.


To be really honest, our hookup was more for him than for me. I'd already vowed I was done providing the warm, healing embrace of my vagina to men who were going through shit, had issues, not up to par etc. Once you state something, it is so. I was also off the heels of the man I said I'd never do and had no intention on settling for sex of a lesser quality.


It turns out with Fuddy, once was enough. We can look back on it as the way we commemorated his 3-year anniversary of coming to NY and we have a hysterical memory to boot.

Doin' It In The Park

Back in the Saddle

Looking for the tale of how Boy Toy and I got acquainted in the park? 

That entry -- "Doin' It In The Park" -- from my Back in the Saddle series has been published in Senshēǝnt Magazine!

Senshēǝnt Magazine is for the 'sexually empowered woman' and allows access to a wealth of experience and information. Check out the premier issue here! 

Join us on Facebook to share your personal experiences and expansion! 

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The Man I Said I'd Never Do

Back in the Saddle

To the one who started (or ended) it all

Source

We met during the FIFA Confederations Cup. Unfortunately, I wasn't in Brazil for the tournament. I watched the host country battle Uruguay on the big screen, broadcast in Portuguese, while I ate linguiça frita mandioca. A few days later, I watched Spain and Italy go to a 7-round penalty shootout, ginger beer in hand. On the day of the Brazil v Spain Championship game, I met a Mexican.


Juan Manuel Francisco Javier* didn't look "indigenous" (his words, not mine) and he was at least 5'10". Immediately after he told me he was an Afro-Cuban drummer (he broke down batá to me) and a saxophone player his hands and lips stood out even more; his hands screamed power, his lips fuller.

On Letting Him Come Over To My Place

Back in the Saddle

Chivas and condoms: After

It was like fucking Manuel Ferrara. Not that I've fucked Manuel Ferrara but I've watched enough of his movies and have been left exhausted by own French Manu in the past to get a pretty good idea what it'd be like.


While I was on top of my Italiano-Portoghese boy toy he held onto my breasts like handlebars. And the eye contact was the most intense I've had in a long time. I was afraid to blink! When he felt my body close around him he pulled me down on top of him and I was on the receiving end of those forceful upward thrusts I'm a sucker for. MS MR sang Bones while we boned.