find, romantic

i ll write to you to assure you of my eternal love....oscar wilde*

yesterday petit fleur wrote about her hard way to get a new drivers license and during the process of getting her papers together she found a love letter...which reminded me on my own love letters...i have a few...long ago i was a good man..long before my desasterous breakup with X i was a good man..a good partner...and from then..from the before..i kept my letters..not only letters..i have a box full of photographs..movie tickets..picture postcards...corks of champagner bottles..opened together...flight tickets...metro billets..buisness cards of restaurants ...opera tickets...shoppinglists of teh evenings were we cooked together...letters from fortune cookies...down wrotes of text messages...as well as photographs of messages left on hotel bathroom mirrors after a wild night...its all there..headstones of my past..of my love...proofs that i was someone else back then...its a travel through time..like counting down the days..and i always wonder why we write love letters..why do we write them to one lover but not to the one before..or the next one? and why cant we let them letters go even though we arent in touch anymore with the person who wrote it? maybe because its sometime sthe mask..the way to wrapp up and hide..the most beautifukl..and most difficult three words...

one very special letter i recived years ago..without a name on the envelope..so its anonymously...still loved the words...it might dont sound so well in translation..but in german its a very poetic piece of work...

dear danielle
with you i d like to ...
walk barefeet on the beach while the sun sets, the air smells like flowers and music plays quietly from somewhere far...
pick berries at noon on a woodglade..while bees sing, we can smell the moist earth and all we hear is the silent cracking of branches...
to have a big , blue & white tiled, kitchen, with a huge old cloistertabel, one end covered with scripts and books, while the other end of the table is used to clean the vegetables, to lard a rabbit, to peel apples from the garden, drinking redwine and listen to boccherini...
be in harry´s bar in venice and try every cocktail hemmingway had there...
driving a cabriolet on the most sunny day over the curvy mountain passe sof the swiss alps...
make plans for a rose garden, read books about old rose breeds, choose the most beautiful ones and pic them up with a small truck at the breeders garden...
to skip work for a day and go to see casablanka in the afternoon show..together alone...
collect mushrooms on a octoberday in the rising morning mist...
having breakfast in a small cafe after a grandious blues session in a crowded and smoky blues-bar...
get lost in sohos thickest fog while you tell me everything about jack the ripper...
pick plums, peaches, apples and apricots..get matching booze an dliquors and cook them into the most tasty marmelades...
lay in front of a open firespace and read to each other from our favourite books...
spend a warm summers nighgt at the pool of a cottage in tuscany and listen to old songs of dean martin, elvis, marilyn monroe and pat boone...
with you i wanna unite all our bookshelves...forget the occassion,get lost in the books, stucked reading the best passages and fight over which books are meant to stay and which books have to go.......


i recived that letter many years ago..maybe 12 or 13 years ago...and even though i dont know who wrote it..its one of my favourite letters ever..because it matches my taste 1000%..because i did everything discribed in it allready and would love to repeat them..maybe because he reached me while i planned a trip to tuscany...or maybe just because i feel like the letter was written by a soulmate..by someone who is like me...someone who is as passionet and wild as i am...someone who is fully alive..aware of the wonderfull things in life...oh and everytime i read the letter again...of course i do it according to the protocol: redwine and boccherini

sun comes out..

well..sun dont come sout for real since its freezing again in germany...but the title of this post is meant to be symbolic for the weather here at home at camp de santiago...

mini-santiago is allready not only better but full back on track and allready busy again with hsi little boys life full of school, painting, reading and meting friends...

plus...on sunday will be the photo shoot which i missed during last weekend because of mini and the hospital...which makes me happy too..these pictures will be great illustrations for my new story...

plus i slept last night..normal deepsleep..at a normal time..which is the first time in a long while...ah..sweet sleep..i m so happy today...

what about you? how was your day so far?

the minis...

ah..i m so..dead today...which is maybe because today was planned that there will be an erotic photoshoot with my pin up artist friends renata and nussito...two sexy ladies in 30ies hairdos and sinfull make up to make put in front of my cam...but...fate had different plans...yesterday was meant to be a quiet nice saturday afternoon at casa de santiago...mini-santiago had invitet my cousin nina to have dinner with my cousin dirk and me...i cooked, we drank & we talked and laughted..while i made the dressing for the salad mini told me he dont feel so good..not feeling good turned into i have to lay down..which turned into my belly hurts which turned into i hav eto cry because i feel so misserable...okay..sick kid...adults who had drank wine..so off we went with the taxi to see the childrens dr..who was not sure if he was sure or not if mini has trouble with his appendix...so we drove with the taxi to the nearest hospital...where they told us they dont have a childrens section..so up into the taxi again and on to the next hospital..where i was faced with..well..dr´s..assistant dr..freshmen.."i m a dr but i dont really know yet what i do"-types of dr...i mean..okay..they have to lkearn and to practice,..but as sure as fuck not on my kid...so we went throught that..through teh waiting..through the tests...just to hear the result was: we are not sur eif its appendix or not..so mini had to stay overnight..which menat i got again intothe teaxi..drove home..got minis stuff together..back to the hospital back home..at 2 in the morning i finally was in bed..unable to sleep for a while more...when i woke up i felt like "uahhhh hell what truck did hit me?"...so..on to drive back with dirkl to the hospital..where we were told mini ha stos tay another day due to the fact they are still not sure..its one of the best hospitals in europe...rich people travel here to get their tretament in that hospital..which the kids and me secretly call "the factory of death"...and they cant find out if minis appendix has to get out or not???..dont get me wrong..i m happy the ydont just cut him open but want to make more tests and all before that...but i hate my son to be in the hospital and i hate the situation...

then i spoke with mini-santiago2 today and his mom told me she is happy when he will be back at my house during easter vacation since he is a bit of abugger recently and she seriously needs a break from him...not so great..but i happy to have him here again so the minis can be together....

so...when i came home from the hospital a few hours ago i just had cold left overs from yesterday and felt into bed like dead..´just to woke up again becaus eteh phone ringed...and now i m all awake an di know i will not get back to sleep..which means i ll be a mess tomorrow again...what should i say? daddy wants:

would you...cook for me?

what will we have for dinner?, is mainly the most important question for mini-santiago when he comes from school..long before he takes off his shoes, tells me how it was in school or whatever ..long before that he wants to know what i ll cook...usually i know the answer right away..i m passionet cook..love cooking..dont mind spending hours in the kitchen...i have aroutine for certain dishes...and also love to flip through cook books to get inspired...but sometimes its just like..my inner kitchen is cold and my pot is empty...what will i cook??..or even worse: sometimes i dont want to cook the things i like to cook usually...i feel like i wanna sneak into someone elses kitchen and go there through the box with old and loved reciepes...so..my question is...would you..cook for me? would you post about your fav dish? show me how to cook a dish that you really like..that you cook for the ones you love?...would you invite me, teach me and make me cook your reciepe afterwards in my kitchen? please...let me look into your pot..:-)

Textmessages from outer space

this morning i was woken up twice..the first time at 5 when suddently a framed painting of mini-santiago decided to fall down from the wall in the hall (yay it rhymes) and its glass just exploded...then i went back to sleep just to be woken up again about 25 minutes later when i got a text message on my cellphone..which wasnt so nice because my phone was next to my head..on the second pillow...so this conversation via text messages enrolled:

melissa: oh shit shit shit shit
me: what? what time is it?
melissa: i dont know. i m in TROUBLE?!
me: why? answer fast my battery is low
melissa: i just woke up next to a naked woman!!!!!!!!!!
me: i thought you are lesbian
melissa: so thought i!

baby has a bad bad day...

baby in this case is me...yes...i m up just since two hours and feel like..poo on a stick..the poo on the pic is actually sheep pp..should it worrie me that i m able to identify it???...anyway...i m so fucking tired...didnt slept ...i already slept at 9 o clock last night..but then nina called me and i woke up...and then wantet to go to bed and ckecked my emails a last time before just to find an editors not about two articles i had written a while ago and which i had to cut down each from like about 4500 signs down to not even 300...which i hate to do...:-/...and when i was finishe dwith that i had some chat with jo..and even though i felt tired again..i couldnt go back to sleep..so i worked some more...and now i m up..have a busy day in front of me and feel like..wahhhhhhhh!


i have a new project for this blog in mind MEMORY LANE..it ll be just snippets..because i so often have to think about situations, long gone people or stories that happened so long ago..which are just random, fragments and unwhole...so i ll just write them down without processing them into a real story or post..just will tell you what i remember....

so..even my day hasnt startet really yet i dont like it so much..but what about you? how is your day so far..tell me..share..and make me happy

i ll teach you how ....

she didnt noticed him until the day his nose were bleeding while she lectured about freud and his point of view on carl gustav jung...she was speaking about how freud and jung had met for the first time and had spoken thirteen hours in a row...freud saw jung as his crown prince, she said as she heared someone gasp and a girl interruped her speech by saying oh fuck no my book alloud...jane turned around and looked at the girl standing there..the blood stained book in her hands...and him next to her..all dark curls and piercing green eyes...blood running inbetween his tissue and his fingers down his mouth and soiled the front of his shirt...excuse me he mumbled grabbing his books and bag with the other hand and left the auditorium...when she saw him next he was all clean again and blushed when their eyes met...high bloodpreasure, he explained what happened the other day...his cheeks where all cherry against the backround of his pale skin and made him look even younger...she knew he was 19* because she had looked up his file in the university office...19 and delicious, she had to admit to herself even though it made her feel uncomfortable..she watched him now while she lectured...she never asked him anything...she didnt even looked for real at him..but from the corner of her eyes she observed him like she would observe a painting of matisse..if it only were forbidden to look at paintings..because that what it was..forbidden...but even that knowledge didnt kept her from thinking..from dreaming and from fantasizing...how she would kiss him...how to unbutton his shirt and expose his slender chest...to expose his flat white poets belly...to kiss his mouth..to run her finger through the dark cloud of his hair and across his back just to close her hands over the two perfect hemispheres of his ass...ah..she could smell his youth and innocence..maybe he wasnt so innocent at all..maybe he fucked school girls behind the gym..maybe he smokes and drinks gin, she thought...but she didnt believed that...she would have to teach him...how to kiss and how to eat her..she would teach him how to come standing up...or leaning against the side of her black carmangia..she would teach him how to come in the middle of the woods or in the dark belly of the universities archive..she would teach him how to do all the things she liked...carefully she smoothered the skirt of her costume and looked into her reflection in the lecture halls door...tall and blonde...a tippi hedren in her fourties...i ll teach you how to fuck she anounced to the empty rowes of seats and straightened her shoulders...

ha dont ask.how much of this is true..or how much of this has happened in..someones past...just tell me something..do you teach? today i met a friend of mine..she is like the woman discribed above...one might would call refer to nher as milf or cougar but i dont since i hate those words...she loves men..youn men..she likes to suck up their youth...and she told me how she brought that guy home..and how inexpirienced he was ..how he just copied every single move she did..when she touched his chest he would touch hers and when she touched his dick his hand would disapear between her legs...she was amused and stirred by that...looked like a cat who just had eaten up the king of the mice...

and so i ask you..are you a teacher? because i m not..i hate to teach between the sheets...i get impatient very fast there and i stay away from virgins as far as possible...but others love it..others love to show and teach and do it all..so tell me about the time when you datet lolita or when you were mrs robinson....

*since i just recieved an angry email about the age of the male charakter in this story i d like to add that i m living in germany where you are a "fully adult" by the age 0f 18...

music that makes you survive..the day, the night, the storm ...

i spend all day inside...let my thoughts wander around the house...got up...made cafe au lait...cut ripe pineapples open..choped them into pieces...and then drowned them under a flood of wodka in a big old glas jar..there used to be hundreds of raspberry bonbons in that jar..years ago when it still belonged to my aunt..i remember when i was a kid i always became desperate because these delcious little purple thingis sticked together like glue and it was always a fight to get one of them out of the glass...my aunt is dead now...a long time..the jar is still here..many things from my past...habitts, traditions and material souvenirs are still here..good and bad..they dont leave me...many of you told me that you like my taste in music after my yesterdays post...and i have to tell you that this is something from my past as well..nowadays i like all kinds of musik... rock, opera, folk, pop and electro too..gimme a martini and some good lounge music and i ll be all flirty in a second...but grown up..grown up i am with jazz and blues...with nina..and dinah..with bessie and billie...with cassandra and diana...with all the good soulfull and heartbreaking tunes of the old jazz standarts...jazz and blues..my love for nina simone..is something..maybe the only thing i have from my mother..maybe the only thing aside the strong will we have in common...especially our adoration for nina simone...the day nina simone died my mother hanged a framed picture of her on the wall and lightet a candle too..she loved her..had met her several times and never became tired to speak about how great nina was live on stage...my mother would make big round eyes and put her hands left and right on her swaying hips to show how, tipsy almost drunk, nina entered the stage..sat down at the piano..play a few tones..then stand up again..start to tell hown she had forgotten her dress in the taxi...how she would call the taxi service and how it was impossible to finde that dress...had anyone seen it..no?..back to the piano...she would start to sing..one or two verses..then she might change her mind..or simply forget the lyrics and start to play another song..maybe two..then she would stand up again..did i already told you about..oh yes..i see...well..i see you there ..are you here on your own honey?..damn..you are sweet baby..nina would smile at the young man ...and so on..like i said my mom never got tired of speaking about nina simone...

for me the music of nina and dinah and billie goes along with a drink..with joy and pain..with tears in need to be dried...but tears dry on their own and all you need is a glas and some good old nina simone...i m grown up with her voice..the piano..my mother played her where ever we lived...back then i didnt knew anything about nina and her music and its meaning..i didnt knew i would hold on to whiskey and cry on the kitchenfloor..i didnt knew i would sit in a taxi driving through new orleans with nina playing on the radio..i didnt knew i would grow up and play nina simone when i d cook for my dinnerparties...i didnt knew anything back then...all i knew was that it was a good day when my mother were standing in the kitchen, singing "summertime" or "here comes the sun" or when she was sitting in her studio working on a painting or a design and gently hummed along the tunes of " i want a little sugar in my bowl"..."the ginhouse blues" or "you can have him" were signs that the day wasnt that good at all and that i d better be a invisible kid until moms mood would brighten up...those days is were when her mood would be mean and angry..but still nina would make it right somehow...on those days i would find my mother in her bedroom..in front of her mirror table...she would smoke a lot and her glass would have no break and would never be empty..she put on her best dresses..walk up and down the room, cut curls from her hair and look out of the window...
danielle she would say and her tongue would be sharp like broken glas animals...i was only 5 or 6..i didnt know anything about beeing depressive or heartbroken..danielle she would say...isnt your mommy the most beautiful mommy in the world???...and all i knew was that i d better smile and say yes yes yes..my mommy is the most beautiful mommy in the world...that was all i knew..i didnt knew that by the age of 13 i wouldnt be allowed anymor eto call her mommy...because, she said, to have such an old son would make her look way too old...

nina simone is all i kept...and dinah..and bessie as well as billie and all the others...because that and a stiff drink..is what brings me trough many days..nights & storms

blizzard warning

play me:
i have an apointment with my tattoo artist today but since its so damn cold and the blizzard is coming i will skip it to another day soon because the clouds are so heavy white and grey and full of snow..because snow is drifting allready in a thin sharp rain of flakes along my windows...i dont wanna do anything but roll myself up in my dark purple bed sheets...wanna listen to dinah washington...oh tell me..is you is or is you aint my baby???...clouds are so heavy...i feel like i wanna close my eyes and wake up in my grandmothers favourite chase.. all comfy and save from the coming snow storm..on the radio they say it might be a storm of a century...again..is you is or is you aint? tell me...
so...outside..my trees and bushes have been kissed and crystalised by the snow white queen..even the iron of the pavillion aches under her frostiness..

but inside...my strange flowers..my needs and desires..keep on blooming...i try to ignore the snow..i have my own spring..inside .

but on to other things...just the other day i learned that the wonderful alana has "awarded" me..http://afterthepole.blogspot.com/2010/01/ive-been-noveling-lately-and-suck-at.html

so..i think in generall its like you recive such thing..and like with everything good..you pass it on...so i do this too...there are many bloggers who inspire me but a lot of them dont blog much lately or are having a hiatus...also i decided to pass this blog award on to wonderful writers outside of the smut writing blog land crew i usually move along with..we smut writers tend to be a small incestous group..and we need some fresh blood...

ms moon: http://www.blessourhearts.net/

glimmer: http://myblog-astonishme.blogspot.com/

allegra smith:http://beadingstars.blogspot.com/

jeremy edwards:http://jerotic.blogspot.com/

and

janine ashbless:http://janineashbless.blogspot.com/

i hate to "choose" people ...when your name is on that list it means your writing moves me..touches me..inspires me...if your name is not on that list it DONT means anything at all..i still love you as a friend..love to read your words and like your style..but above these 5 bloggers do inspire and touch me a lot in this minute...

..and forgive me to "illustrate" this post with a song you might dont understand by ear..but maybe by heart...let me give you a few lyrics from it so you can understand why i choose it...
because our hearts mainly are blind
who of us is like a child?
open to everything like the wind
who brings the rain to the ocean
the rain, so free and yet willed

give me a suitcase for my heart
because it is worth so much more
if you take it with you
from dawn to dusk
and then bring it back to me...whole and unharmed

getaways & escapes

play me while reading:
when i watched this morning mini-santiago waddeling through the snow on his way to school i had to think about a conversation i had with jo recently..about my fav. summer getaway..well actually we spoke about hollydays but then my summer getaway came up my mind and since its always only for a weekend its not a real hollyday but a break....i love to finde place where to go during summer weekends..just pack the kids in a car and escape from the city...
i m sure you know that situation..when in summer life in the city becomes so unpleasant..like you cant breath there anymore...where do you turn to? i love to go to the netherlands..to a small town....its a 3-4 hour ride so we break up very early in the morning..nina and dirk on the balkony having a cigarette illuminated by the morning sun kreeping up over the city roofs...the kids running around..playing..unable to have breakfast because they are so exited to go to the coast...i run around with my lists of things still to do, things to pack...then in the car..i wear my fav. hat...dirk drives...nina and the kids are in the back...the town we go to is on coast of the netherlands..full of small houses with some modern buildings here and there added..small cafes and seaside restaurants...you just stay for these two days..lay on the beach and watch the kids run in and outside of the water and the breakers...you stroll to town to buy baguettes and cheese...you have a small house close the water..you just let your mind dangle with the seaguals gliding over the seas surface...maybe you think about deadlines now and then but not as often as you usually do...in the evenings when the kids sleep you all sit down on the deck ..open bottles of wine from the town...you speak about what has changed here since you came as a kid...candles flicker on the table and within a heartbeat its time to pack your family again and drive back home...you arrive late in the evening..you notice that you surely have forgotten something around the beach...you carrie the sleeping kids upstairs...you unpack...sand runs from inbetween the pages of the books you read at the beach...and while you pour yourself a whiskey to end the day with you walk quietly from room to room..everyone sleeps ..its quiet..you dimm the lights...you step out on the balcony where candles flicker just like the nights before on the tables close to the beach...you are home again..but still you cant wait to get away again...
so tell me about where you get away to for a day or two...tell me were you hide when you need to relax and escape from every day life....