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Interiors. Out of everything wonderful life had to offer, interiors. But not just; The Hanging Rock and the pathways that are starting to loosen their grip on me. The sorcery is fading. I get out of bed and immediately almost faint. Sudden change in blood pressure, vertigo, lack of human touch, brain tumor, who knows. Cooing doves in the morning, and the sound is conspiratorial and homey. This view. The newspaper articles are about war, or cutting funding, or killings, or maga propaganda, and as if these were not enough, the science section tells me how studies have shown that women whose bodies go into early menopause tend to lose their synaptic activity in the brain sooner and more often than those whose period continue into their fifties, resulting in catastrophic cognitive problems, with Alzheimer’s looming at the darkest end of the spectrum. Also, that persistent nightmares reduce lifespan, and those who tend to have bad dreams often are bound to die sooner with 70% accura...
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Variations

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  Making the transition into poetry and self-publishing physical books, gravitating towards live performances and audio🖤 Working towards a spiritually and sexually healthier, more sensual, and exquisitely well-rounded writing life, ever working towards successfully seducing the audience as well as myself into temporary, rhapsodic withdrawal from the everyday and into the mystical, the veiled, and the passionate💋 My works are for sale where I perform and at selected boutiques and my favorite sellers. You can find some works at your online bookstore💎 Choosing and assembling selected works from this site to be collected in physical form💘 Slow, but worth the trouble to revisit all the very diverse pieces, I love them all dearly📚 This spring, you can find me at Virvatuli-klubi, Tampere, Feb. 20; at Sensual Design Fair, Turku, Mar. 22-23, I perform on both days; and at private parties mainly in the Helsinki area throughout the year - sorry, private means private🧡 Further public dat...
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The Faux-Tropical Hootenanny Solitaire Pitcher - Deep South, Deep Cuts

It is, finally, the beginning of summer. For those like me, who are working indoors all day and fantasizing being outside in the sunlight where, in this particular dark fantasy, every single other person on the planet is sunbathing as we speak and recuperating in the light from the long barren winter of the utmost discontent: this is the alcohol beverage for you. I was taking a power hike after a shift, briskly walking to the beat of my current favorite album and enjoying the gradual greening of nature and the fact that after months, one could feel sweat trickling down one’s spine instead of the freezing Northern gale blowdrying it in an instant. I was being good after neglecting my health for many months out of sheer exhaustion and lack of energy for it.  Spiriting my soul in the luminosity that is Finnish early summer, I had a wonderful idea, and, for a ceremonial ending of my solitary selfcare date, walked straight into the liquor store. For those who are new to the blog: yes, t...
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Coy Apples: To the Girls I've Loved Before

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  This is not a blogpost of me coming out of the closet. In fact, I have been so far out of the closet for as long as I can remember I’m almost completely outside the house already, but I can also say that no, I am not really a lesbian.  Or am I? I know young women and gender-fluid persons and non-binary people today like to think outside the containment of a sexual orientation – or gender nomination - box, and this is all good – this is just me talking, and this is me being, specifically, a woman about it. Despite a life-long habit of crossdressing ever since early puberty, and adopting behavior patterns traditionally reserved for the man, I have never wanted to be treated or referred to as a man, nor have I ever entertained a single moment’s desire to transition into one.  Be that as it may, I feel often that what I consider discussions worth having are not the same discussions that are actually being had, and one such notion is that of the ever-evolving spectrum of sex...
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The Human Touch: Pretty Woman Grows Up

I recently wrote in passing about a romantic comedy from the very final days of the previous millennium, which reunited director Garry Marshall with his very successful old leads Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. Even more recently, I was watching the original flagship movie, Pretty Woman, and a lot of things sprang to mind. Like Focusing mainly on Vivian’s point of view, the story of Pretty Woman morphs early on into a stylized, granted, PG, version of An American Pillow Book for the lady into the intricacies of the art of subtle, understated seduction of a man. Like Instead of bringing the hammer down about such notions as the story’s implicit go-ahead for buying people and treating others like merchandise, and the shallow presentation of values and what is considered the good life, I think interpreting Pretty Woman as a story of the transformative power of the human touch and finding sexual freedom at any age, and through it, individual freedom, a clearer sense of identity, and contin...
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The Eye. A Horror Story. Chapter Two: PULP FICTION

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How long do you reckon birds live, darling? There was an eclipse today, real pretty, Liz. It happened in late evening, just before sundown. The clearing behind the main house went all quiet, and the skies turned into orange and dark grey. The sun was partly covered behind whirls of thin clouds, so when the moon eclipsed it, it looked all soft, like soft ice dropping on your chin that time on the pier, and I’ll be damned if it weren’t orange and vanilla that day, too, darling.  Nothing moved, the moon covered the sun for maybe a few minutes, and during that time, the weirdest thing happened. I kept thinking of this book I read as a young boy, where this housekeeper lady offs her no-good husband during an eclipse. I kept watching the clearing and the sky looking all mystical and the tree line, the sky was so nice I tell you, but then, I spotted a deer on the clearing. It was hard to spot at first, since the eclipse seemed to drain the color from the landscape, and everything was this...
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