Nov 10, 2020
2 new affirmations on being an artist and on Growing Older 2
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2 new affirmations on being an artist and on Growing Older 2
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Three New Affirmations11-4-20
How sweet it is!
xoxoxo God Bless you J.M. the muse of muses sublime!
#storr #saintorr #steveorwhat #nycmasseurc.om
1-19-24
Fighting this tremendous sense of both cabin fever and a hard-core cold (my first in a year). Also fighting the urge to drink (I will get my nightly ONE beer and cocktail with bitters but later). The neighbors upstairs seemed to be chilling out which is nice. (No BUMP BUMP STOMP STOMP! Whew what a relief). So I did rent studio time but likely not going to bike over to Abrans Art Center to…
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Listen/purchase: Blue Sanctuary-horror short story-audiobook by SAINTORR
Apocalyptic Zombie short horror story set in the East Village, N.Y.C. written and narrated by Saintorr; running time 18:50; c. 2019 by Steven Orr
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
track by SAINTORR
A re-release, from my Ocean Visions album. Sensual electronica with a hint of Asian spice. Sail away with me to cedar sunsets and cinnamon dawns. Bathe with me in the warm waves; let’s wash away all our memories and pain. I left a virgin, I return a Sacred Whore.
Dancing Ocean Queer 12-2-20
It was a celebratory early evening as I danced and worked out by the woods, in the backyard of my second home in Marshfield, MA, the front yard, up and down the street entirely devoid of shame, propelled by the power of music and dance. Thank God I have that ability to escape the mundane. Only feeling the joy of movement; and then bike riding to the beach, coldly inviting me to take a swim--"not yet, a voice said but soon."
Later reading AARP wherein it is said that being an elder is a privilege...not sure if I agree; but what Springsteen had to say about songwriting, that songs are like dreams, was inspirational.
I'm having lots of trouble preparing music covers for my "big debut" on Spotify. And quite frankly listening to some play lists on it the other night. Meh. I wasn’t impressed. Is it just me or does the world of social media music have a real “dollar store” feel? The quality seems so lacking. Must be from everybody in the uncle rubbing each other’s backs and blowing smoke up each other’s a-holes in order to “get liked.” How dreary.
So here at my staycation spot I'm sharing the house with a 5 year old and her gorgeous but extremely "obsessed" Mom (sexy white trash I mean WTF says “Gookfood.” Her ignorance doesn’t become her in the least and I worry about her influence on the kid).
Later, I was crying by the ocean I think because my heart was releasing a strange kind of love, memories-if you will-of when I loved women more at an earlier time in my life. And the deep sadness that I will never have a child to carry on my seed. (Hey that sadness passes real fast let me tell you! LOL). And the 5 year old helps me experience an "elixir of innocence" reminding me of feelings I felt way before the whole world of New York living, M4M massage and too much knowledge of life and love overtook me and forced me to form such a tough, outer leather-like skin. Sex is still a joyful and healthy addiction; at the same token it’s become quite, utterly meaningless.
I'm not sure if I want to post on Double list for a hook up while here or not. All the queers are in P-town and here in Marshfield the straight, DL, extremely judgmental and capricious demographic of married guys forces one to be celibate. Can we talk deep, DEEP closet? Blue-collar, working class—zzzzzz. At least in NYC a percentage of that ilk LOVE and welcome M2M play! Here, puritan masculinity and the power of the hetero rule all (barf). Oh well, I focus on the ocean...
What was my goal for this co-called vacation? Post my novel on my WordPress blog in its entirety! Work on a song or two and simply do nothing. What did I leave behind in the East Village? The stress of having a roommate who is a pothead, and barely functioning lost-soul-addict, (cute but not bi in the least, he is a victim of his own "anti-bisexual tendencies" too ignorant and afraid to "go there.)” He is also one of those rare birds who can’t seem to lose himself creatively in anything or work towards any kind of goal so he immerses himself in his job and a menial one at that. He is one of those “born to work” types. No imagination, nice but stupid. He is the goyem working for a couple of neurotic, abusive Hasidim in Borough Park. He works like a slave, allowing himself to be used and abused and then loses himself in getting stoned and drinking and pursuing “cute girls” in the neighborhood butcher shop; or courting female bartenders in the East Village. He is a little boy in a 45 year-old, man's body. Then there's the CO-VID fear and the ongoing stomp, stomp stomp of the cow upstairs. She's a good influence on the building but walks like a woolly mammoth. Oh God I LOVE living in NYC LOL! Goals, goals, goals. Isn't it enough just to watch the birds play? I function much better when I get away and go on retreats. Doesn't everyone? I have a lot to be grateful for. Though being feral seems to be my destiny. There's a sadness in that and a tremendous freedom that I love. Nothing like meditating next to live waves, sitting in the cold sand after the dance, the seawall at my back. Years ago I would wait for a man. Now it seems, the stars and waves are enough. Yes!
THANKSGIVING THANK YOU 11-27-20