Oh Mistress Angela:

Who are you and what have you done to me? For I am a man obsessed.

Have you hypnotized me?

Or is this bewitchment?

I want to plumb the depths of your heart, soul, and mind. When I think of you, I see you as if you were a tree. I can see the branches moving in the wind, I can see the trunk well planted in the soil, but I can only suspect what and where the roots are, where they are growing, where they come from, and how much more they can support above them. I think I don’t want to prune the sail of your tree. I want to climb in it and see it flourish. I want to be the birds and bees among your branches.

Maybe I’m both hypnotized and bewitched. Maybe you are the most dangerous woman I’ve ever known.

Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I just want more and more and more.

K

================

How beautiful ‘K’ expresses himself. Boys would do well to emulate him. Women, even Dominas, love pretty words.

And, yes, he is appreciated and has been rewarded.

xo, Angela

Did you know Banksy wrote a book? I didn’t, but guess what I just bought for my hardback collection.

And here’s a morality tale from it:

Once upon a time, there was a king who ruled a great and glorious nation. Favourite amongst his subjects was the court painter of whom he was very proud. Everybody agreed this wizened old man painted the greatest pictures in the whole kingdom and the king would spend hours each day gazing at them in wonder.

However, one day a dirty and disheveled stranger presented himself at the court claiming that in fact he was the greatest painter in the land. The indignant king decreed a competition would be held between the two artists, confident it would teach the vagabond an embarrassing lesson. Within a month they were both to produce a masterpiece that would outdo the other. After thirty days of working feverishly day and night, both artists were ready.

They placed their paintings, each hidden by a cloth, on easels in the great hall of the castle. As a large crowd gathered, the king ordered the cloth be pulled first from the court artist’s easel. Everyone gasped as before them was revealed a wonderful oil painting of a table set with a feast. At its centre was an ornate bowl full of exotic fruits glistening moistly in the dawn light. As the crowd gazed admiringly, a sparrow perched high up on the rafters of the hall swooped down and hungrily tried to snatch one of the grapes from the painted bowl only to hit the canvas and fall down dead with shock at the feet of the king.

“Aha!” exclaimed the king, “My artist has produced a painting so wonderful it has fooled nature herself, surely you must agree that he is the greatest painter who ever lived!” But the vagabond said nothing and stared solemnly at his feet. “Now, pull the blanket from your painting and let us see what you have for us,” cried the king. But the tramp remained motionless and said nothing. Growing impatient, the king stepped forward and reached out to grab the blanket only to freeze in horror at the last moment. ’

“You see,” said the tramp quietly, “there is no blanket covering the painting. This is actually just a painting of a cloth covering a painting. And whereas your famous artist is content to fool nature, I’ve made the king of the whole country look like a clueless little twat.”

Banksy, Wall and Piece

Gotta say, love me some Banksy, anyway I can get it. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. 

xo, Angela