Something has happened to my ora. I had a ridiculous weekend. Something is extremely maternal is associated with being the only female in a group of talented but hopelessly tragic group of men. I don't know how i got so far away from where i was two years ago. but I am somewhere very near living in a commune of male artists. And all i want to do is help them, feed them, make art with them, help them succeed, feed them. This weekend was very near nirvana. A complete and total surrender to every visceral primal nature urge.
Maybe its the pain pills. or the vodka.
But weekend aside. I had a coworker very clearly state he was interested today. I think i'm radiating some sort of sexually intense vibe. I can't control it. I want to ride it long and hard. Experience every single opportunity of pleasure with my natural breasts. Before I am forced to augment them. I have a bitter confusion towards women who willingly alter there natural self. I can't conceive undergoing such extremely for the sake of vanity. Here I am faced with life or closer to death. And even still. I ponder if its worth the price. my visit to the plastic surgeon website didn't calm my tribulations.
Honestly i started this blog project smugly, with the hope that this ordeal wouldn't last long.
thinking i could abandon this blog. leave the "story" uncompleted, truncated, abbreviated.
But in the back of mind I had a feeling that things weren't going to end up ok easily.
Nothing has ever been easy. Nothing should ever be easy.
But somethings you have got to wonder if there isn't an easier way to end up somewhere.
Last night I looked over my blog I started over two years ago. For a while there, I did a good job photographing and documenting, so if I scroll through quickly it illiteracy appears as if my life was flashing before my eyes. Such an exercise cases oneself to evaluate. What started as trivial entries about nothing turned into critiques of events and artists. Which turned to my postings of my own art. Then postings of art events i've been to. then events i've conceived and curated. Mixed in with all the people I've grown close to over the past two years. This segment of my life is a snowball. And in the center is the nothing i had before everything. Married stale bored and angry being point A. Me now being point B, full time job taking up too much of my time, Delux's creative director, Flax Gallery director, artist, freelance designer, and just generally being jenn carter.
I can honestly say that my breast size has nothing to with any of this a to b improvement process.
But then there has been the 15 or so years of development that lead me to be. And nothing has impacted my general experience and interaction with the world more than having very large breasts. Even so, Reduction rarely crossed my mind. And I had settled into wearing two bras and lots of hooks. Given up tube tops and string bikini's, strapless dresses and spaghetti strap tank tops. because thats just the way things are. That's just the way i was. And for all my issues with self image, when i come down to it there is a certain amount of confidence, 3 d cups full actually, that lie with in my "rack". And as my illustrious ex husband, Greg Carter, puts it, "Jenn can't loose her breasts, they are all she has."
Friday, May 15, 2009
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reading monthes later. i really barely remember what those breast felt like. i find situation memory to be terribly confusing.
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