Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Honestly, I cannot say what the inspiration for this was, or what it is, or what it’s supposed to mean, or even why it should exist. Almost none of my work starts out as a concept, an idea taking form in the realm of words or intended meaning or purpose. This, like so much of my work, just springs forth my subconscious, much like a dream. One of my goals with Mother Id is to practice tapping into the wellspring of creative energy that lies beneath our conscious rational mind. Art does not have to make sense. It just is–like the universe. The only meanings are those we create. When I create some art, it’s usually only after its creation that I contemplate it and find meaning–meaning for myself that is; it might have different meaning for someone else, or no meaning at all. Maybe it serves as a visual metaphor for something and illuminates that something for us in a way that we did not otherwise see. Or maybe it evokes a feeling that we might not otherwise feel. To me, encountering art like this is like getting plopped down in some alien world. And though we may have questions and seek explanations, there are no manuals or teachers to provide answers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this freaky, what-the-fuck-is-it, image, and I am sorry I cannot provide more insight about what it is and what it means. If I think of something I will let you know.
Happy Passover!
For a great example of God’s infinite wisdom, power, and love, you need look no further than the story of Passover. In order to free His chosen people from the cruel Pharaoh, God made a bunch of plagues happen so that Pharaoh would relent and let the Jews go free. But despite the rather impressive plagues, Pharaoh was not impressed, and continued to refuse letting the Jews go free.
But wait, that’s not exactly true, Pharaoh WAS ready to let the Jews go after some of the more dire plagues, but GOD HARDENED PHAROAH’S HEART so that he changed his mind and did not let them go! It was like God had a few more plagues he wanted to try out and he was not going to let Pharoah’s softening heart stop him.
Finally, after many plagues, God decided to murder every firstborn child in Egypt except for the Jewish firstborn, who would be “passed over” if they painted lamb’s blood on their doors so the Angel of Death would know who the Jews were (how else would God know?).
Anyway, so God killed all the firstborn children of Egypt, from Pharoah’s son down to the lowliest maidservant. Breaking his own commandment (in a big way) of “Thou Shalt Not Kill” it seems God really just wanted to commit mass murder. I mean, he could have gotten the same result any number of ways without all the horrible deadly plagues and the mass murder of innocent children. For instance, maybe, just maybe, instead of “hardening Pharoahs’ heart” he could have, I don’t know, SOFTENED PHAROAH’S HEART???
But no, God wanted to have some fun trying out all his magic tricks and plagues and top it all off with the murder of thousands of innocent children who had nothing to do with the enslavement of the Jews. God’s great wisdom, power, and love for all to witness!
Jungle Beauty. Model: Mira
Mira of the Jungle
In the heart of emerald canopies, Where sunlight filters through verdant tapestries, There emerges Mira, a jungle nymph, Grace adorned in the rhythm of leaves.
Her silhouette, a dance of shadows, Amongst ancient trees, where secrets linger, A symphony of nature, she orchestrates, In the wild, Mira is the untamed singer.
Tresses entwined with vines, Her eyes, reflections of the moonlit night, A river’s whisper echoes in her laughter, Mira, the enchantress, bathed in twilight.
Skin kissed by the sun’s golden ardor, Her footsteps, a delicate rustle in the undergrowth, A panther’s gaze mirrors in her stare, Mira, the epitome of untamed growth.
She breathes the fragrance of blossoms, Wears the hues of butterflies in flight, Mira, a canvas painted by the wilderness, A masterpiece framed by the fading light.
In the heart of the jungle’s embrace, Mira, the beautiful, weaves her own grace, A symphony of life, a testament to nature’s art, In her presence, the jungle whispers its heart.









































































