2013 Is A Year Of Revelation & Artistic Rejuvenation for Anne
/2013 is upon us and I’m wondering what to do next. One can make New Year’s resolutions and fall off the wagon quickly. But even when one is resolute, keeping promises may be out of one’s hands.
I’m almost embarassed by the post I wrote for New Year’s 2012 focused on my new friendship with a brother in the Catholic Church. Problem is that when a group of potential investors read about the brother’s connection with Anne — aka Jezebel the Harlot — all hell broke loose.
My entire month of January was torturous, as Easemine board members resigned over me — the person who stood to help them the most. Brother Dennis took me down a path that I resisted strongly at first, reminding him that the Catholic Church and I are no perfect match.
“I’ll protect you,” he assured me repeatedly. Instead, he was sobbing in a state of total collapse on the other end of my phone.
“Are you ill?” I asked him between his heaves of emotion. Then, having a light bulb moment after a month of playing defense with the finger-waggers, I said “Is it me?”
Agreeing to cut all his public ties to me — because the good brother had to, after all, to build his charity — Easemine now appears to be out of business. I guess the money guys didn’t step up to the plate after all, even after creating one of the most sorrowful months in my life in decades.
Talk Is Cheap
Reflecting now on 2013, as the world’s women swim in the seismic waves of ‘50 Shades of Grey’, I want to tell them that sexual fantasy is splendid and should be kept separate from the real deals of everyday living and broken promises. Submission really isn’t as tasty as it sounds in the paddling embrace of Christian Grey.
If I struck out with my 2012 resolution to build a meaningful relationship with the Catholic Church — a joke in our post Nuns on the Bus America — what can I do for 2013.
Write, damn it!
365 Days of Sensual Rebel Sex Talk
Indeed I will. Every day in 2013 as the Sensual Rebel. Some posts will be short, but I have a lot to say, and surely I can add my own perspective on human sexuality. My treasure trove of private emails overflows with gorgeous and also not so pleasant sexual visions.
Some inspire and others leave me stone cold. I will revisit them all.
Looking at photographer Khoa Bui’s gorgeous, erotic image above, I’m reminded that most sexual fantasies are milk toast. Mine are not. Discretion will always prevail, because I am this kind of woman — never one to spill the specifics of her life.
Lucy Mcintosh’s image above and in Khoa Bui Captures Lucy Mcintosh in The Pleasures of Entrapment on Sensuality News Platinum, are vastly different from the real world of forniphilia where women (and men, but mostly women) serve as pieces of human furniture.
As an ardent feminist and supporter of the world’s women, I’m on record being dismayed by protégées who cry foul over women like myself, blaming the confusion of male/female sexual roles on me. Indeed, Anne the pacifist said “off with her head”, I was so angry — and I will do it again.
In spite of my strong convictions around women’s rights, never do I wish to sanitize or condemn sexuality or sensuality. I believe sexuality to be the core energy of human existence. I love sex. I love feeling sexy and desirable. I adore men — well some of them.
2013: A Year of Reinvigoration
Perhaps I want to reinvigorate Sensual Rebel because I have the same resolution for my personal self in 2013. This is the year that we built GlamTribale, my new jewelry collection. It has been a drain of all my personal strength and resources to maintain the websites and build GlamTribale with no writers.
In August, I took complete control of the jewelry design and learned to make it.
The experience left me astonished and thirsty for more. Good sex has the same effect on me. If 2012 is the year I fell back into my private self because there was no time for me at all, 2013 is the year I hope to change that reality with writing and creativity.
In 2013 I will have three writers to start the year. The jewelry is done, and you can track my progress in this AOC channel. In spite of working around creatives my entire life — and 10 years at Victoria’s Secret, lastly as head of product development and fashion director — 2013 is the first year that I will call myself an artist.
My first portfolio collage — Gaia 1— is finished and headed to a Philadelphia gallery. Always the astute businesswoman, 2013 will be the first year I consider myself to be an artist — and a humble one, I will add.
After the debacle with Brother Dennis and his Catholic friends, I am more resolute than ever to be my true self. Indeed, there is provocation in my first collage. The themes of Anne of Carversville — telling women’s stories from fashion to flogging — are represented.
What began as a visual commentary on Gaia and mother earth sank its tentacles into religion, without my intending to go there. Why? Because the destruction of Gaia and the rise of monotheism are intertwined.
Phoenix Rising
I promise then to post in Sensual Rebel every day of 2013. If I miss one, it will be backdated so that there are 365 days of intimate thoughts and sensual images.
Some days, only a simple picture or phrase might catch my eye, but I will use this column to find my way into a new version of Anne. No more fragmented parts seeking approval and acceptance, but the thoughts of a Smart Sensuality woman in charge of herself — a person with miles to go before I sleep.
Many people will say “But Anne, you are so liberated and strong, already. Why do you need more?”
My answer lies in the size of my audience which is over 250,000 readers as a baseline without the wild swings driven by specific articles.
To the extent that my thoughts help others look inside themselves, then my journey isn’t one of narcissism but mutual learning. So many yarns in my life are coming together quite splendidly at this moment. 2013 is the year I will knit an authentic cloak for any woman to wear, if she chooses to follow my footsteps in looking deeply at the woman in the mirror and finding love. ~ Anne