Well here I am again. It’s post lunch time and I have not much of a worry to bother about. The To-do list seems manageable and I doubt the boss will explode if I do not finish a thing or two.

I spent a whole afternoon yesterday watching porn. Well, it was porn of both types: gay and straight. On a lazy afternoon at home, I somehow always find myself ending up on xtube.com or gaytube.com or redtube.com or more recently, xvideos.com.

It’s rather easy to access such spurious pleasure online and all it takes is a click of a button and a hungry lusty appetite.

So, I landed up on xvideos.com this past Sunday. And oh! What a treat that Web site is. Erik Everhard performs with all his lust and sexuality in as many as seven or more videos uploaded in the straight section. And then there’s Pavel Novotny, Josh Weston, and several sexy hunks doing each other in the gay section.

Well, till the time I watched them fondle each other and feel every inch of naked skin, I was aroused. Yes, quite frankly, as the naked men and women felt each other and groped and licked and had sex, I was thrilled with my orgasm.

But once I was done, this familiar urge hit me to close the Web site at once. And so I did! It really seems stupid of me to behave so. After all, I was watching them gratifying each other and satisfying my voyeuristic behaviour as well. And it seemed quite selfish that I stopped their performances once I had climaxed and cleaned it all from my thighs and crotch.

Why? Why is it that I cut ties with lust and sexual acts so swiftly as if it were a crime to be associated with them? Probably – and this is what I think maybe the reason – it’s because ever since the time I can remember, sex has never been packed with approval into any of my conversations. It’s always this topic that has to be leered at and referred to indirectly.

Perhaps that may have built an impression of it being not right to be indulged in often. Yes, I know too much sex is not quite a recommendation for one’s well being, but you must know I hardly even have sex. So, I at least should allow myself to allow my eyes to accept the act and take it in and relish it.

Shunning it as if it were a barbarian about to ravage the land is not something I should be encouraging. Don’t you think so?

Why Did The Legacy Productions Create its “One Brick at a Time Campaign”? Our story begins with Laura Van Vleet [http://www.linkedin.com/in/lauravanvleet], an incredibly gifted, intuitive writer with The Legacy Productions.  She sent out an email to all of us entitled “Motivational Monday”.  It had two video links in it and one of them was the Will Smith Video we are now using for the “One Brick at a Time” Campaign.

The Legacy Productions, like many businesses wanted to stand out from the “clutter” by doing something different – something better than other media companies.  We like “coloring outside the lines”.  TLP was heavily influenced by “The Persuaders” 2004 PBS Frontline series.  We closely studied this series and were particularly convinced Saatchi & Saatchi Worldwide CEO’s Kevin Roberts’ new millennium goal of only moving on advertising campaigns that create “consumer loyalty beyond reason” just made good sense.

Why Will Smith? The answer is transparent.  Will is an extraordinary individual.  He’s done exceptionally well in his craft.  But there is more.  He has a philosophy of “never give up” – never let anyone tell you that you cannot do something.  This is a main theme in the video we incorporated featuring “The Pursuit of Happiness” scene between Will and his real son.  In our challenging times, we all need hope and when we find it we need to distribute it.  We believe there is an Audience, a Community out there that will congregate around this video, talk about it, share it, be empowered by it.  The “One Brick at a Time” Campaign’s primary purpose is to do just that.  It’s about letting the world know “we all are not going to give up”.

Photo - Courtesy of Pixelposition

Why “One Brick at a Time?” for The Legacy Productions? The answer is also simple.  We heard the voices of our existing clients and those of new Clients say.  PROVE IT.  Show us that outbound marketing is over and the new game in town is this social media – inbound marketing thing.  Do it with an existing video that is already in CYBERSPACE.  So a second purpose of the Campaign is to do just that for our clients:  DEMONSTRATE THE EFFECT OF SOCIAL MEDIA AND INBOUND MARKETING INCORPORATING EXISTING VIDEO.   It’s cutting edge for every business.

Kevin Roberts also said in “The Persuaders” that every business needs to know this – whether small or massive Fortune 100’s.

“It used to be called television, and the 30 second television ad is the greatest selling technique ever created.  But technology and consumers have moved, and now we are part of the Screen Age. The combination of movement, color, music and words creates an emotional field that is highly engaging for people, whether it is to present a point of view in documentaries on public television such as “The Persuaders” or to sell laundry detergent.  Music and humor are especially important. Music creates mood; it is a shortcut to the heart.  Humor is highly empathetic.” Kevin Roberts, CEO Saatchi & Saatchi Worldwide.

Kevin calls these  techniques “ Lovemarks.”  Lovemarks actually involve Mystery, Sensuality and Intimacy.  Those are three words you won’t find at Harvard Business School.   Kevin tells us “Mystery is about great stories, being inspired, blending past, present and future, icons and symbols.  Sensuality is about how you evoke all the senses in your product or communication.  And Intimacy invokes passion, commitment and empathy. This is how you create emotional communications.”

Does Your Business Have a Lovemark?

The Legacy Productions is a Hub for creating Campaigns integrating engaging video with inbound marketing.  The Legacy Productions is your Lovemark Media Company.  We know only creative people can follow Kevin’s advice and present this to an Audience for any business.  The Legacy Productions has taken Kevin’s instruction to heart and strategizes small to large company social media and inbound marketing campaigns using video, text, graphics, and other visual art forms.

MORE BACKGROUND on “One Brick at a Time”: In the 2004 “The Persuaders,” Frontline series turned conventional advertising on it’s head.  We call it the “Gretzky Effect.”  You have to skate to the puck where people that are like you congregate.  The reality is:  The Legacy Productions is a full service production company – but really we are a media company with the ability to effectively use content we create, suggest or that already exists in a Client’s portfolio and re-purpose it in new ways.

The Legacy Productions’ inbound marketing strategies are to develop “loyalty beyond reason” Campaigns where the Client’s content is used online to entertain, infotain, edutain in order to build an audience.  The rage on the street is “social media” and “inbound marketing.”  Our challenge is to cut through mass-media clutter and to overcome consumers’ growing resistance to their pitches.  Marketers have developed new ways of integrating their messages deeper into the fabric of our lives. Through sophisticated market research methods to better understand consumers and by turning to the little-understood techniques of public relations to make sure their messages come from sources we trust, marketers are crafting messages that resonate with an increasingly cynical public.

Courtesy of Amber Lambke

Why Did The Legacy Productions Use Will Smith’s Video? There is no doubt Will smith is iconic.  But after watching the video, how many viewers actually knew his beliefs and his philosophy.  We believe there is an empowering story which relates between Will Smith’s meteoric success in the entertainment world and the principles Will Smith lives his life by revealed in the video.  In a competitive, product-saturated marketplace, a new product needs to have something beyond the brand — an added value, an idea, a “story” behind the brand.

The Legacy Productions story is founded on Will Smith’s  “One Brick at a Time” philosophy – actually “one inch at a time.”  Want to hear more about the”one inch at a time” beginnings of The Legacy Productions?

TO BE CONTINUED…  Stay Tuned Tomorrow for Back Story 1.2

SUMMARY: Let us tell you what “one inch at a time means” to The Legacy Productions inspired from a famous Al Pacino speech.  How many knew Will Smith’s favorite book is The Alchemist?  What is this new “hush-hush” field of Neuromarketing?  How can it affect your business?  Some applications of “One Brick at a Time – Expanding” Social Media 2.0 is for every business:  “Restore Your Health – One Brick at a Time.  Watch this Will Smith Video.  There’s Something in it for You.”

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32inch lcd hdtv

Desciendo del coche y cierro la puerta sin dejar de mirar al otro extremo de la calle. Espero tu llegada.

La ciudad se empequeñece, se hace concreta y pierde su amplitud al conformarse con existir en los metros que me rodean, los que forman el espacio que han de alcanzar tus pasos cuanto tu presencia sea real. Te espero a lo largo de unos minutos en los que mi respiración en nada se parece al aliento sereno que también me haces sentir después de hacerme tuya.

La gente, con rostros, sin nombres y apellidos, salpica la calle de pasos. Mis ojos te buscan en sus siluetas durante breves instantes que se quiebran al no reconocer tu piel en ellos. Nadie eres tú. Ninguno de ellos toma tu cuerpo. No hay rostro que sea tu identidad. Mi mirada intenta verte en ellos, aún sabiendo que no son ellos quien tú eres.

Comienza a dibujarse el perfil de tu cuerpo en la distancia próxima. Tu sonrisa es un signo inequívoco que incita a mi corazón. Te espero y llegas. Te aguardo y eres tú quien da a la ciudad su sentido más intenso. Llegan tus ojos concisos, tu caminar agitado, la abertura justa de tu boca al pronunciar la primera palabra. Llega tu abrazo, la forma en la que mi cintura se adapta a tus manos y tu cuerpo recibe mi latir inicial. Te siento en él, en la conjunción de mi pecho con el tuyo, en el perímetro carnal que dibujan tus brazos. Te espero y has llegado. Aconteces en mí, de nuevo, sin pretextos.

Sin dejar de aproximarme a ti, me susurras y me explicas cómo deseabas regresar a mi cuerpo, qué perdido estaba el tuyo sin el mío, cómo el deseo de mí ha hecho de ti su paisaje cotidiano.

Dejas el primer te quiero ondeando en mi rostro, acompañado de un ven que precede a la fuerza con que tu mano busca la mía para comenzar a caminar. Tu mano es la misma ciudad, la misma calle que recorremos con nuestros andar convencido.

Es aquí, me dices. Señalas una puerta de madera que no es sino el límite que va a separar la ciudad de nosotros. Mi cuerpo se agita al presentirlo, al sentir tu agitación, también creciente y presentida. Abres la puerta y me das el paso para que ante ti ascienda al lugar que has elegido para nuestro encuentro. Los escalones son signos suspendidos, recónditos puentes que ahora se muestran accesibles para que seamos una intersección de fuego y carne. Los escalones son retazos de lo que dejamos atrás para hallar nuestro lugar en el futuro más cierto. Los escalones son, sólo son, se suceden a nuestro paso y somos nosotros quienes les dictan su existencia, breve y transitoria, antes de que les abandonemos, mientras les damos la espalda.

Una nueva puerta franquea el instante en que nos tomaremos la piel, el sexo y nuestro cuerpo, en el que el uno se difuminará en el otro, sin borrar las líneas que nos definen. La abres y abres, con ese gesto, la luz más clara que el alba podría traernos. La abres y te abres a mí, como un ave intrépida que aleja el temor a los temores y se afianza en su vuelo ante el mundo impasible.

Te deseo, me dices con tu boca y con tus manos. Trepas por mi pecho y haces nido en mi cuello con tu lengua excitada. Recorres mis hombros y retiras mi blusa hasta intuir la piel blanca que los cubre.

Te deseo tanto, me dices con los ojos encendidos, alejados ya de la añoranza que mis ojos han dejado en ellos en los días de ausencia, en el tiempo vacío de nosotros. Me alejas de tu cara para contemplarme. Déjame mirarte, me pides con un gesto de tus ojos. Ellos también desean penetrar en mí, reconocerse en la imagen que de ellos ha construido el tiempo indefinible que ya hemos compartido.

Te amo, me repites, con sílabas de besos encendidos. Te amo como se ama al último sueño, al amor descubierto, al cuerpo que se necesita para sentirsee cuerpo. Mi silencio se llena de respuestas. Tú las sabes, reconoces mi amor y mi deseo en cada uno de los movimientos de mis manos. Te busco los labios con mis labios, encierro el aire rebelde y lo  aprisiono para que tu respiración se acoja a él y se haga aliento. Te amo tanto, te digo con mis dedos. Y mi lengua te escruta y te incita al beso más profundo.

Espera, pronuncio lentamente.

Al compás de tu mirada, interrumpo el existir de los botones de mi blusa. Pareces suspendido en el penúltimo de ellos, tan alejado de la realidad que te asemejas a un sueño que se sabe alcanzable. Mi blusa se divide como ventana inmensa y tus ojos pretenden, dulcemente, asomarse a ella y construir un paisaje en el que solo tú y tus manos seáis los únicos habitantes. Detrás de mí, la superficie roja de la barra que separa la cocina del salón, se convierte en sábana diáfana, mar incitante, un ven sin sonido que me invoca. Me sitúo sobre ella, permitiéndome la excitación creciente que trae tu presencia y los presagios de ti y de tu sexo. Mi falda asciende por mis piernas, acompañándome el gesto, y deja al descubierto el encaje de las medias que abrazan mis muslos. Tú quisieras ser tejido y rozarme la piel con lujuria y ternura, acariciar la antesala de mi pubis, el camino sinuoso que te llevará inevitablemente a mi sexo caliente antes de que lo conviertas en agua única acogida con tus labios y tu boca. Separo mis muslos, sin pudor, para que intuyas de qué forma se sujetan mis medias a mi cintura, cómo me rodean. Tu mirada se detiene en el tejido negro que asoma entre mi falda.

No puedo desearte más, me dices mientras tus dedos inquietos y excitados separan mis ligueros de la piel que frágilmente separa mi cuerpo de tus manos. Son ellos los que inician una danza única y precisa. Son ellos los que se mojan con mi humedad y restauran el agua que el deseo provoca en cada parte de mi cuerpo anhelante. Son ellos. Eres tú. Es el amor que se trenza con el sexo, con la voluntad de poseernos, el ansia de penetrarnos la carne, el sentimiento.

No puedo desearte más, me repites mientras tu boca es ya mi boca y tu lengua me recorre como el escalofrío más intenso.

No te demores, hazme tuya, te responde mi voz con mi silencio. Y el mundo no lo es, la realidad se pierde, el tiempo se descuenta del futuro cercano y nuestro amor, como marea profunda, nos agita la carne y nos induce al silencio más carnal de nuestros cuerpos.

La canción expresa, como mis palabras, lo que me haces sentir…Abre el enlace y escúchame, escúchala…Marisa Monte: EU TE AMO, TE AMO, TE AMO

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” – Marcel Proust

At this moment I am pleasurably enveloped in an ivory colored satin quilt in my own room with a view, at my daughter, Hadley’s, house in Atlanta. Beau, the elegant, velvety, warm blooded, chocolate colored companion that is my dog, is curled around my legs. It is the beginning of Thanksgiving weekend and I am writing in bed, my very favorite place to write, and well, my favorite place, I think, in any house. Certainly I am surrounded by new landscape, about which Proust speaks, away from the Carolina Lowcountry and well, yes, Atlanta is admittedly one of the Great Aunts of the American South. In the spirit of the weekend, I feel renewed and I see again, with new eyes, today, that Proust is just right, oh so right, about what matters.

What a delightful American holiday this is, a day dedicated to gratitude and the splendid pleasures of the table. As I packed yesterday to travel, I tucked into the red leather traveling bag that this beauty loving daughter gave me, another gift from her, a copy of the original Proust Questionnaire, in Marcel Proust’s own handwriting, in French. She gave it to me, because every holiday season for years we’ve circulated a family questionnaire amongst the large and blended family that is mine. The questionnaire we make is usually twenty questions or so, like “If you could have dinner with anyone who would it be?” or, from the original, “What is your idea of happiness?” (Proust’s answer was ” To live in contact with those I love, with the beauties of nature, with a quantity of books and music, and to have, within easy distance, a French theatre – all of which would be mine exactly! – except having access to film now, instead of French Theatre).

Completing the questionnaire is a gift of connection, or listening to each other, the one element that somehow began to be missing as the holiday became so centered around gifts and shopping. Our own family questionnaire has taken a life of its own and now, each Thanksgiving, one family member begins and circulates the questionnaire beginning on Thanksgiving weekend, by email, even though I value those old paper compilations, especially the one my sister did in her own beautiful perfect and loose handwriting, so passionately detailed in the food category. When she died, all the foods she listed as her favorites – and her list ran around the page to fill up the back (it included Duke’s mayonnaise which those from the South will understand) were gathered and cooked and served by my son’s wife at the gathering of family and friends who came to my house after the funeral.

But ah, Proust! – whose passion, curiosity and genius inspires all lovers of the arts. Virginia Woolf, the legendary writer, identified the highly sensual nature of Proust’s prose as the Proustian effect, a rejuvenating energy, the intense pleasure that we find in great art. The root of the word “aesthetic” is to feel, to be alive; it is about art that so dazzles one’s spirit that it consoles: Joy, I think, is the word.

Included in that is to feel overwhelmed with gratitude. For the pleasures of love and food, for the pleasures of grown children who now create the feast, and the birthday celebrations and the blessings of grandchildren. Proust’s own words mark the refrigerator here in Hadley’s oh so sensual home. (It is a fridge magnet her mother gave her). “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy: they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”

The two warm ham biscuits, on a gold rimmed porcelain plate, delivered to my bed as I write, by my amazingly beautiful and talented daughter, illustrates it all. Amen.

Dolce&Gabbana The One official website

“This new era in the story of the one is once again captured by revered fashion photographer Jean Baptiste Mondino. His muse, and the unforgettable embodiment of l’eau the one, is Scarlett Johansson. A global icon, Scarlett fascinates audiences with her unique blend of beauty, charm and palpable intelligence.

The original soundtrack for the advertisements was composed by the illustrious Italian composer Ennio Morricone: a haunting tribute to the enduring impression made by l’eau the one woman.”

It’s been so long since I heard this song:

Venus,
I am so glad you put up another blog. I will stay tuned.
So anyway
When I first started reading your blog two years ago i was a woman working in the corporate industry. A stressed out single parent who never took the time to..appreciate myself. Do something enjoyable. Now…While The kids are at school I love to get online and play with the web cam now I make a living out of my website. No one who would see me or knows me would know how deep my sexual craving is.

Peek a Boo!

Esta noche siento hambre de ti.

Acércate y extiende las manos sobre mi cuerpo desnudo.

Mójame con tu deseo. Humedece mi piel hasta llegar al pensamiento.

Haz oscilar mis convicciones. Incendia mi voluntad y doblega el más mínimo indicio de prejuicios.

Dale a tu lengua el nácar denso de mi pubis, recoge la pasión que azul desencadenas en estas horas hambrientas de tu boca.

Aprisiona con tus ojos el fondo más ígneo de mi espalda transparente y desliza, sobre ella, tu impudor más rebelde.

No inclines tu cabeza a la vergüenza, hazlo hacia mis labios: deja en ellos las marcas indelebles de tu lengua.

Si deseas escuchar música mientras lees el texto, clica el enlace siguiente:Jeff Buckley Everybody Here Wants You

The beach is hot but the game is on
Coach can’t hide in shade today
Cause my girls are working magic in the sand
They dig deep, volley perfect, and slam the balls over the net
the whole audience is in a trance from these toned witches spell

There going strong casting Hex’s on the other crew
Cause in the end both teams know what the loosers got to do
and this sun is hot enough to grill human flesh
Focus back on the game My girls are serving up match point
Damn compettition made a perfect spike

No they made the save and its our turn to hit em with that fire
yes we won the crowd roars for the undefeated champs putting another crew out to dry
the customary shaking of hands ends with a grimace as my witches lay back in the sand
the team loosers come by and remove winner panties to se whats been grilling underneath
team looser services my winners tilllustful screams are the only sound

Another lovely poem by Bill Noble to accompany another beautiful image of complicity between him and his lover. This one really struck me because I am still reeling in the wake of reports I’m reading on the effect of pornography on children and youth. I had another heart-to-heart chat with my teenage boys about it (sex and pornography) because I so wanted to impress upon them that there exists a whole other, deeper, intimate side to sexuality that is completely missed in “those” images. For anyone sexually unexperienced stumbling across this blog who is, wondering, hoping, dreaming that there truly is something more… there is! Warm thanks to Bill and Desiree and Comstock films for allowing me to draw and share their images (and Bill for his lovely poetry). These generous people are truly elders* who are teaching something usually unspoken or unseen about sex and love to younger generations.  xo Victoria

 *in Canadian Aboriginal culture, the word “elder” is used with great respect for the older people who carry on traditional spiritual teachings to the younger members of the community.

THIS POEM ENTITLES THE BEARER  by Bill Noble

It does. It entitles the bearer

to one (or more) of those long languid mornings in bed

where everything she’s wanted to talk about

for weeks and weeks

gets talked about, where we’re so entangled

she has to slip a hand under the covers

to tell whose legs are whose.

It entitles the bearer to sex.

Not just any old sex, but exactly the sex she wants,

exactly when and how she wants it.

And then it entitles her to turn the tables.

This poem brings with it a bottle of champagne,

a dinner so good that the bearer’s mouth begins to water

just reading this poem,

and a dessert that shall be left to the bearer’s imagination.

This poem permits—even encourages—asking.

This poem grants long walks in beautiful places

and short walks for the succulence of enchiladas.

This poem dispenses celebration—

for the life the bearer is creating for herself,

and the right to remember the joy and power of that

any time she wants. It crooks a finger

to welcome her to that new life,

which is already here.

This poem entitles the bearer

to love. And it is a permanent reminder that love

is both a noun and a verb,

transitive and intransitive,

reflexive, or not, whether proclaimed teetering on the Matterhorn

of passion or breathed at the feathery edge of sleep.

This poem entitles the bearer to everything she deserves.

And a few things she hasn’t even imagined

yet.

They Talk, We Live, We see what They say
They Talk, We Did, Who cares what They say
Still they can’t’ focus on them They be talkin’ bout me
Talkin’ bout what I wear Talkin’ bout where I be

Posted with permisson from
Laren Neyland ©2009

Brushstokes

Lead me into temptation –
and let there be no boundaries to your whisper
as I caress the longing of my inhibition.
It is not enough to love you that I embrace this desire
for my heart is swollen with aspiration.
Might I not be able to hold you within my arms
then I shall hold you in my
- Dreams.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

“I know you even under the skin”.
(Persius, Roman poet – Volterra, 34-62)

It was last Sunday at Lal ghat in Varanasi (Benaras), this young man took a bath in the holy waters of the Ganges and washed himself.
After that he treated several parts of his body with pressure, mostly his joints.
He used Ayurveda which is a natural health care system that incorporates massage.

“Rise up nimbly and go on your strange journey to the ocean of meanings.”
(Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and mystic, 1207–1273)

This was shot last Sunday at Prayag ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I believe that it was the last very hot day of the year here and many people came to river in order to find a way to feel fresh.
This woman was pouring the holy water on her, I took several pictures as the colours were coming so well.

Sybilia

Such is the study in your eyes –
That I am caught between a dream and a desire.
Have I waited too long to embrace you,
even though every moment I ever wanted was to be with you.
Yet as my heart trembles in want of your whisper
you have made it a better place
- To be.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009