![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Home from kinky camping
Sep. 23rd, 2012 09:50 pm
Camp was a delight this year. I had a four guests with me this time around and several folks who stayed over with me and Joel before the weekend even started. You could also add that I had several new members attending that I'd sponsored from last year and a bunch of new friends that were there for the first time.I had some nice, if sporadic play this year, including two very intense sessions (one with one of my guests). But I also had to fight back my depression, even there. Despite being in the woods with 250 kinky men, my anxieties were really getting the better of me and I kept running back to my cabin and hiding. There was always a reason to venture back out, including some book sales, and to see people as they wandered around Command Central.
I really missed my friend Robert (from Copenhagen), who was not there this year, but will visit the states in October. Looking forward to that. I did retain my post on the board and will be continuing my role as secretary. The general meeting and first new board meeting minutes are already in the bag and awaiting approval. (Being severely unemployed has some perks.) Now we start planning for 2013!
I have to add to that. I have a part time job lately. I work at an FYE Music and Video store at the local mall, a mere ten minutes away. When I say part time, I really mean it. 10 hours a week over two days, at minimum wage. Beats nuthin'. I do get a discount though. I bought the new ZZ Top (really good), but can't afford to really take advantage of the savings. Such is life.
Palm Springs Leather Weekend
Nov. 21st, 2011 06:53 pmJoel and I used some airline miles and an invite from our friend Peter Fiske to attend Palm Springs Leather Weekend. It was nice to get out of the house for a change and try to alleviate the fact that my depression has reached an almost crushing level of despair, along with my computer networking class being far and away harder than I ever imagined it to be.
Luckily, there are only two of us in the course and that allows the prof to answer all of my annoying questions. I fear I may not be able to catch up to the level of technology the course involves.
However, let's share some of the pictures.
My friend Alex Ironrod opened the weekend by reading from his new novel "Leather Nights" (a murder mystery) at Gear. I was pleasantly surprised by the turnout for him. I should add that I wrote his back-cover blurb.
My friend Bryce, whom I had not seen for a few years. This was in the party behind the Tool Shed where I'd set up a book table.
Mikal Bales (aka Daddy Zeus of Zeus Studios) took the time to come over to The Barracks on Saturday to say hello. He may be one of the men in California that I've missed the most since moving away. His new beau, Mick, is very sweet.
The gentleman here, Marshall, was a close friend of my late master, Gary Taylor. We had not seen each other since 1999. We had a long and somewhat emotional talk while he visited.
The notorious Gagbear and George (WetInSF) visited. It was nice to finally meet Jim after years of chat.
In what I can only say was the oddest moment of the weekend, singer Gregory Gray walked up to my table and said - in a thick Irish accent - "You don't even remember who I am, do ya?"
He was right, I didn't. I interviewed Gregory over the phone in 1994 for Frontiers Magazine when his album "Euroflake In Silverlake" was released. When he played a show at the Virgin Megastore, I picked him up and we went to The Faultline for a wild night. He picked up a date and returned to his hotel after a few hours, and I'd not seen him since. That he remembered me and decided to hang out again was delightful and fun. Turns out he's a PS regular now and we have several mutual friends.
Of course, it wouldn't be a hot weekend if there weren't plenty of good looking men running about. (Hi Nipper!) That is, until The Barracks got busted for overcrowding (and yes, the place was mobbed), and the cops cleared everyone out. My first ever bar raid! Ah, well.
Then it was on-board the big old jet airliner for the trip home, for which we had enough miles to get first class seats. I never realized how comfortable flying could be before this. It made the end of the weekend easier to deal with. We arrived home to one very happy kitty. Now it's back to studies.
I am going to make a great effort to write more posts and reviews, if only to force my brain to write things.
Luckily, there are only two of us in the course and that allows the prof to answer all of my annoying questions. I fear I may not be able to catch up to the level of technology the course involves.
However, let's share some of the pictures.
My friend Alex Ironrod opened the weekend by reading from his new novel "Leather Nights" (a murder mystery) at Gear. I was pleasantly surprised by the turnout for him. I should add that I wrote his back-cover blurb.
My friend Bryce, whom I had not seen for a few years. This was in the party behind the Tool Shed where I'd set up a book table.
Mikal Bales (aka Daddy Zeus of Zeus Studios) took the time to come over to The Barracks on Saturday to say hello. He may be one of the men in California that I've missed the most since moving away. His new beau, Mick, is very sweet.
The gentleman here, Marshall, was a close friend of my late master, Gary Taylor. We had not seen each other since 1999. We had a long and somewhat emotional talk while he visited.
The notorious Gagbear and George (WetInSF) visited. It was nice to finally meet Jim after years of chat.
In what I can only say was the oddest moment of the weekend, singer Gregory Gray walked up to my table and said - in a thick Irish accent - "You don't even remember who I am, do ya?"
He was right, I didn't. I interviewed Gregory over the phone in 1994 for Frontiers Magazine when his album "Euroflake In Silverlake" was released. When he played a show at the Virgin Megastore, I picked him up and we went to The Faultline for a wild night. He picked up a date and returned to his hotel after a few hours, and I'd not seen him since. That he remembered me and decided to hang out again was delightful and fun. Turns out he's a PS regular now and we have several mutual friends.
Of course, it wouldn't be a hot weekend if there weren't plenty of good looking men running about. (Hi Nipper!) That is, until The Barracks got busted for overcrowding (and yes, the place was mobbed), and the cops cleared everyone out. My first ever bar raid! Ah, well.
Then it was on-board the big old jet airliner for the trip home, for which we had enough miles to get first class seats. I never realized how comfortable flying could be before this. It made the end of the weekend easier to deal with. We arrived home to one very happy kitty. Now it's back to studies.
I am going to make a great effort to write more posts and reviews, if only to force my brain to write things.
Tags:
Of Whips and Wasps: Delta 2011
Sep. 8th, 2011 01:23 am
Delta weekend is something I look forward to, maybe more than most any other event in the year. To the point where I've become a member of the board and operate as Club Secretary. I also now create the musical playlist that gets turned on at the Upper Dungeon space. There are some men there I see only once a year, and in one case, grieve in his absense. We got to spend several, intimate hours together this year, and, as usual, his generousity overwhelms me. My play was limited this year, just not by lack of desire. Friday evening I took a sturdy flogging from Derick from London, then the following day a good beating from a long-time member who happened to comment "why have we never played?" As well as a private, closed room cuddling session with a Daddy Dog I was fortunate enough to meet over the summer in California.
But then I went to witness a very intense scene where everyone was watching intently, in silence. I felt something VERY painful in my back and got up to move away, as not to let my personal discomfort disturb the proceedings. As I exited the area, I felt ANOTHER very painful burning sensation in my shoulder, realized I was being stung by something, and started to run. When the THIRD pain struck, I realized that whatever was doing this had somehow gotten under my shirt and was one very pissed off insect. If you can envision me trying not to yell, running through the trees and ripping my shirt off (and getting a fourth bite in the process), it probably looked pretty funny.
But once the shirt came off, I spotted my nemesis; a black wasp had somehow gotten under my shirt and decided to come back in for one more pass at my leg before I finally got away from the little bastard.
That was five wasp bites in rapid successsion (two on my back, one on my side, one on my chest and one on the leg), and I had come as far as Sanaford Hall (aka, the lower gym) shouting for a Taxi.
They motored me to the medical center, where I was promptly creamed, iced and given some antihistimines. The bites burned like a sonofabitch, and frankly, exhausted me. As soon as the Sunday Banquet was over, I returned to my bunk and passed out till breakfast the following morning, blowing off 4 playdates in the process. I also broke out in hives, which made my face look like The Joker in The Dark Knight.
However. This is not to say that I had a bad time. As many here know, there's plenty of bloggers who come to camp each year, and I love and cherish my time with each of them. This year, I invited 5 new folks to come, and it looks like 3 will be members, as well as two other men I took it on myself to sponsor. And after elections, I was once again asked to stay on another year as secretary. I was proud to answer in the affirmative.
Let the planning begin.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Passings: Photographer James Bond
Jan. 5th, 2011 12:02 pm
I just was notified by my friend here, Nipper, that James Bond passed away on New Years eve. He was one of the best known photographers in the kink community, which is where most folks know him by his Nom de Camera, James Bond. Jim was also an expert in Railroading and trains, and I once accompanied him on a late night photo shoot in Los Angeles of an historic Steam Engine that was in a roundhouse for an evening.James Bond got into the kinky photography field when he visited the New York Bondage Club, founded by Bob Wingate, who had an idea for a magazine to be called Bound and Gagged. Bond contributed photos to the very first issue of B&G, introducing rubber gear and wetsuits all combined with intense rope bondage. His work has appeared in B&G, Rubber Rebel, Vulcan America and on countless websites, feeding the kinky rubber/bondage community.
While Jim's pictures probably most seen by readers of Bound and Gagged magazine, his work often appeared in my publications Rubber Rebel and Bound and Gagged. Frankly, Vulcan would not have been nearly as interesting without his work. He also sat with me one evening at a Delta Run for a profile that appears in my book Skin Tight. We talked about his fetishes and his coming into kink as a photographer....and his cantankerously conservative politics.
Here's Jim in his own words from that interview in 2006.
What excites men who can come to me is generally the gear, and the idea of a good top that can tie them up and make them feel good, and they don’t have to worry. I am not a threatening image. There are men in the scene that could scare the shit out of you. I have seen this as a characteristic of a lot of leather tops; part of their sce
ne is to be intimidating. The people I play with tend to go the other way. They don’t want to be intimidated. There is a big difference between a top and a master. I am not a master, I don’t role play; I approach my bottoms one-to-one. It’s you and me and I’m here to let you have fun. I will use whatever skills I have to make you feel good. Now, if making you fell good means hanging you upside-down and being unable to breathe for a minute, well, that is your definition of feeling good.
ne is to be intimidating. The people I play with tend to go the other way. They don’t want to be intimidated. There is a big difference between a top and a master. I am not a master, I don’t role play; I approach my bottoms one-to-one. It’s you and me and I’m here to let you have fun. I will use whatever skills I have to make you feel good. Now, if making you fell good means hanging you upside-down and being unable to breathe for a minute, well, that is your definition of feeling good.I took that picture in (I think) 1997 and Jim told me it was one of his favorites of himself. I'm gonna miss you, you old grump....
![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1){kind=small}
Music for Kinky Campers
Jul. 26th, 2010 10:21 am
As secretary for a certain club that likes to go into the woods every September and do rather unconventional things with each other, there is usually piped in music playing to set the atmosphere. The gent who usually does it is not available for this go-round and it has fallen to me to fill the air with dulcimer tones.
Thing is, my idea of music for kinksters tends to NOT be what other folks are all too crazy about. If it were up to me alone, the I-pod would be front-loaded with the likes of "Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick" and "Whip It" whilst grown men are whuppin' the hell out of each other. And "The Stoke," by Billy Squire for that matter, Because I am...well....bent that way, Oh yeah, and The Motels singing "He Hit Me and It Felt Like A Kiss."
So while the folder in I-Tunes marker Delta 10 is well populated with Phillip Glass, Enigma and Jean Micheal Jarre so far, I am soliciting my fellow LJ'ers about what they consider to be appropriate kink music. I will then try mightily to find a bunch of these and add them to the folder for September. All suggestions are welcome and will be taken seriously. But fellow campers and travellers, think long and hard about this. A lack of responses may bequeath an onslaught of aural SM. I have an Alvin and The Chipmunks CD making my fingers itch.
"Ooo Ee Ooo Ah Ah, Ting Tang, walla walla bing bang," baby.
