The Control Enthusiast

So this is the rope from Gargoyle Toes, a local shop in Montreal. Haven’t had a chance to play with it yet, but I have done some experimentation on myself. It feels nice… not as soft as the Bavarian hemp I got from Monk, but good nonetheless. Holds knots well. And it’s a good red. Eventually I’ll want to get something a bit more burgundy.

Except, I think I need to curtail my rope acquisition for a while, though. I’ve been itching for some new ink for a while. Designing will happen over the holidays, and hopefully I’ll be paying a visit to The Reverend Matt early in the new year. Another birthday tattoo, yes please.

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On Control’s Wishlist -

Yeah, if I had the money, and trusted the floor of my apartment could support it, I’d pick one of these up in a second. Four post, really solid looking bed. Very much my aesthetic.

The real reason I want one, though, is because with virtually no effort, it turns into this.

I mean come on, how fantastic is that? I do feel like I’d want to be at ground level. My bedroom is far too slanty to make such a thing possible right now. But still, still, I covet. AND they’re local. If there’s anyone who reads this who’s actually played with one, let me know how they are. I’m dead curious.

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Three poems, all from ee cummings, one of my favourites. This poem is, in fact, a joy to say aloud.

~

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big Love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

ee cummings, 1925

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This one, which I discovered through an online friend (and for which I don’t feel like I’ve adequately thanked her) makes me weepy almost every time I read it.

~

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings, 1958

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This one I’ve just discovered, and just this quickly love it to pieces.

~

it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another’s,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another’s face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.

ee cummings, 1923

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