...face is always in the eye of this mind. 

     I want to remember everything -- and living in a world which
records so much on these fragile silicon chips...I begin to save it
here. I save it...nurture it, for her.

     She is Renee. She is a teacher in a tough environment. She is a
mother who offers an excellent model (who "walks the walk"). She is 
a mother who cares, and is concerned, but who respects her daughter's
need to grow.

     She is Renny Jay. She is ready to take on anyone who threatens
those for whom she cares. She is a woman of earth...and one who is 
willing to go into combat (perhaps metaphoric...perhaps real). 

     She is a furnace of passion. When the temperature of the world
outside has plunged to virtually killingly low temperatures...she
takes me beneath the down comforter, and shares the warmth of herself
with me. I often become relaxed enough to drift into epic dreams.

     Sometimes I become the barbarian...the alpha/male wolf -- ready 
to protect. Ready to serve, listening to her...watching her...
sensing her...or becoming one with her, as she allows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     But more often...she, as the alpha-female-wolf, surrounds me with
her body and her warmth. I often awake to the glint of moonlight fall-
ing through the curtains...to hear her murmuring breath, and be com-
forted, and fall back into the twilight of the collective dreams of 
all creatures who were created by the Cosmic Fire.

     It is as though we were both predatory and protective -- for we
do have our cubs. Not commonly shared...as we might have wished. But 
we both share the alpha protectiveness and ferocity, should those who
are our cubs be threatened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     She often watched me as I wrote. She was quiet, and left me to my
reveries, as I put them on the page. Though, after I had left a copy 
of the last passage behind, she responded:

      We are beneath a New Mexico sky even though I have never been 
under one...and the world is yellow and brown and red...rich with 
earth.. and there is a gentle breeze and it is enough that we are 
comfortable and your hair blows easily....and we are naked...and our 
hands touch...we face each other...and in the touching there is a 
sense of all the elements...and we are brother and sister and lovers 
and friends and ... through your hands I feel all your strength and 
all your gentleness....all your pride and all your humbling...and 
there is a great song that sings through us...that are those of a man 
and woman...and mother and father....two children of this universe...
who play and love and care for each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 01/21/99 12:01:19 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     
     And now...under Arizona sun, I see you returning from a medi-
tative walk alone. A morning breeze snaps the side panels of the 
pop-up camper. The sky is heartbreakingly blue...and I look back as 
you draw closer. You are heartbreakingly beautiful.

     My first impulse (perhaps as recently as this morning?) is to
pull you to me, and begin undressing you. We have found a secret can-
yon...where we have enjoyed the luxury of spending much of our time 
nude, but for the moment you are wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I myself
am wearing jeans, and mocassins.

     Then, the moment, the color of the sky, the urgent pull of the
earth...draws a different response. 

     I do put forth my hand, and you take it, smiling that radiant and
warming smile -- your face seems lit from within by thousands of suns.

     As my hand encloses yours, and I draw it to my lips to kiss... to
taste...I whisper -- "You're so beautiful...this moment is so beauti-
ful." I look down for a shy, embarrased moment, then, "would you care
to pose for me?"

     It has become a standard joke between us (and many others) that I
once let 60 rolls of film sit for two and a half years without having
them developed. I expect the laughter when I hear it, and look up at
you, smiling a bit like a teenaged boy, asking for a date.

     It's also become true that I not only develop my film now, but 
that I've been spending a great deal of time drawing, again. I once 
loved to render beauty through my eyes with pen, ink, pencil... some-
times (when feeling adventurous) watercolor. So...you and I both know
that there are many media through which I might want to capture this
beauty...this moment of light.

     At first you simply look at me...your smile glowing even brighter.
Then, after kissing me on the lips, you answer -- 

     "Yes...would you draw me, this time? I love the time it takes...
the way you look at me. It seems...I don't know...more sensual and 
spiritual at once. I'll do anything you want, in terms of the 
pose...." -- and there was something so  coquettish in your smile I 
would have done anything for you.

     "Please...do this as a painting...by hand."

     My pulse now racing, for this is what I had thought, even as I 
saw you returning from the walk. "I'd love to...colored pencil...I 
do have something in mind." 

     And you pull me to you, your body pressed against mine in a mann-
er that thrills and comforts me, at once. I know that I am prepared to
honor your beauty...and that of the earth...in a magnificent manner.
No ego involved here. It is a simple matter of giving myself truly to
the moment -- and to you. 

     We couldn't help but exchange lips, tongues, touches here and
there -- and yet, we both knew there was a sense of great fulfillment
awaiting, in graphic form...in human hand to heart form.

     "Okay...let's get ready for a short hike..." I said, already pic-
turing you, against a certain rock formation...Mother Earth...with
Father Sky looking on, and admiring...just as that deep blue sky con-
tinued to roll above us. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to be continued ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(she responds...in kind...in her words...):


   "I want to pose for you...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 01/22/99 6:24:59 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    It seems, for the moment, as though nothing exists beyond this
moment. Perhaps it doesn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 01/22/99 6:26:25 AM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~