I haven’t really said much about life lately, just comments around its extraneous details. Things are good. I’m still not going out much, which compared to my Other Life (that would be BA–Before A died), means I’m almost dead. Going from a swinging lifestyle, and I do mean literally, to a more or less celibate one affords interesting perspective on life. I’ve always thought that people who stand in their sexual power make the greatest strides in life. After all, sexual power = kundalini = creativity. But I’ve also always equated that to being very sexually active. I realize now that has nothing to do with any of the above. Sure if I’m banging everybody and their mailbox, preferably all at once, I acquire interesting fodder for the muse. How, how often, and how freaky has nothing to do with how I’m channeling that life force, what I’m choosing to do with it. Would I like to be back on the horse, so to speak (OK, that one’s not literal–I have a couple of boundaries)? Sometimes. Well, a lot of times. But the fact that there are those introspective, quiet times when I’m really guts open and pen flying is testament to the fact that different mojo conjures different art. I’m writing in a totally different and in many ways higher strata now. And I don’t want to cast lots, but I think it’s because of the changes I’ve been through losing A and recreating my life. If someone(s) falls into this hot mess with their legs spread, so be it. I just am not feeling the need to go find them, and for the first time in my life, that’s OK.