By day, I am a writer, a student, a teacher, and a rogue instructor in the industry of yoga; with a firm belief that education engenders embodiment, I enjoy teaching people geeky anatomy factoids that help them exist more realistically inside of their own bodies. What’s often missed is the sheer simplicity of slow practice: being upside down for longer than a moment and down on the floor in the grit, where the only way to experience a vast universe is to halt completely.
I am a sensuous and sensible creature of simple pleasures. I relish in the feeling of a sharp blade cutting through a fragrant, organic vegetable. I can build a fire, cook without a recipe, and I’m not afraid to get dirty in freshly dug soil. I spend a fair amount of time thinking about how to make the room I am currently in cleaner, tidier, and more harmonious and I think about whether or not the things that ‘make me happy’ are actually making me happy or just comfortable, familiar, and socially acceptable. I’m a sucker for brunch, especially if there’s Hollandaise involved.
I’m practical. I prefer sneakers over high heels, yoga pants over designer wear, and it’s a rare occasion to catch me without chapstick close by. I find that I am often more interested in how one arrives at a certain location, than simply the location itself. I care about where my food comes from, who made the clothes I wear, and how my habits effect others. I save my granola bars to give to the man who lives in the stairwell of the uptown bound trains at 49th, because he always wishes passersby a great day.
I am nourished by the company of beasts. A surefire way to turn me on is to know how to train a dog well. Horses I find calming, regal, and powerful; dogs bring me unbridled joy; chickens I find to be hilarious and silly and should you choose to put me in front of a flock, I will shamelessly coo and squawk at them in solidarity, #PoultryProblems.
I’ve always been interested in sex and desire, in fact, my very first memories are of masturbating and, shortly thereafter, learning to feel shame around my persistent interest in sexuality. As an adult, I understand sex as a practice: an accurate reflection of the deepest parts of ourselves that really just want a little air time.
One of the best ways to get me wet is to fall in love with my scent: kiss, nibble, lick, & bite the back of my neck, even better when playing with the edge of my panties. A trail of fingers, lightly over my skin, and a relaxed, firm hand directing the thick parts of my body. I want to feel desired, but not smothered; connected yet independent; lost and simultaneously found.
Love and Wickedness,