The Lover asked: How would you like me to touch you?

The Lover answered:

I would like you to touch me as if you were going away tomorrow, far far away, and you wanted to remember the feel of my body, the texture of my skin, the hills and valleys that make up the landscape of who I am...

I would like you to touch me as if you were blind, knowing that you love me, but unable to see me. Touch my face, my breasts, my belly, my toes... learn what I "look" like, imagine me in your mind as your hands explore my shape.

I would like you to touch me as if your hands were healing hands, radiating love energy with every stroke. Feel the energy penetrating through skin, through flesh, entering into the cells of my body.

I would like you to touch me as if you gained your nourish ment through your hands. Feed on me, drink deeply and draw from your touch the love that I hold for you.

I would like you to touch me as if you were feeding me through your hands, as if by your touch I am nourished and sustained. Every inch of me cries out for your touch, yearns to be fed.

I would like you to touch me as if your hand were a feather, lightly caressing the edge of my being.

I would like you to touch me as if your hands were paintbrushes, and as you caress me, you are coloring me in brilliant, sparkling, dazzling hues.

I would like you to touch me as if you were erasing the outer me, allowing me to reveal my inner self to you.

I would like you to touch me as if you had carved a sculpture, and were now feeling its finish, smoothing out any rough areas, enjoying the finished product.

I would like you to touch me as if your hands were fire, burning away the dross and leaving only the pure gold of my soul.

I would like you to touch me as if your hands were sponges, soaking up the essence of my being.

I would like you to caress me as if I were made of dry clay, and by dampening my skin you enliven my spirit.

I would like you to touch me as if my skin were soft velvet.

I would like you to touch me as if you were a musician, and your touch brought forth different sounds from different parts of me.

I would like you to touch me as if I were a rare jewel, precious and valuable.

I would like you to touch me as if I were your Lover.

Dianna Daffner holds an M.A. in Counseling and has studied and taught in the fields of meditation, massage and energy awareness for over thirty years. A black belt in Aikido, she was featured in the book Women in Aikido. She has led workshops at Esalen Institute and was licensed by the state of California to teach energy massage. A Reiki Teacher, Diana specializes in attuning couples to the Reiki energy, increasing their ability to heal and celebrate one another through touch.

In the last 2 days I have come across writing by other people that I have found either meaningful or inspiring . This piece below is written by Oliver Muller , Life coach and author of the book "Sex and Spirit".

Often in our lives, we fall prey to the idea of a thing rather than actually experiencing the thing itself. We see this at play in our love lives and in the love lives of our friends, our family, and even fictional characters. The conceptualizing, depiction, and pursuit of true love are multimillion-dollar industries in the modern world. However, very little of what is offered actually leads us to an authentic experience of love. Moreover, as we grasp for what we think we want and fail to find it, we may suffer and bring suffering to others. When this is the case, when we suffer more than we feel healed, we can be fairly certain that what we have found is not love but something else.When we feel anxious, excited, nervous, and thrilled, we are probably experiencing romance, not love. Romance can be a lot of fun as long as we do not try to make too much of it. If we try to make more of it than it is, the romance then becomes painful. Romance may lead to love, but it may also fade without blossoming into anything more than a flirtation. If we cling to it and try to make it more, we might find ourselves pining for a fantasy, or worse, stuck in a relationship that was never meant to last.Real love is identifiable by the way it makes us feel. Love should feel good. There is a peaceful quality to an authentic experience of love that penetrates to our core, touching a part of ourselves that has always been there. True love activates this inner being, filling us with warmth and light. An authentic experience of love does not ask us to look a certain way, drive a certain car, or have a certain job. It takes us as we are, no changes required. When people truly love us, their love for us awakens our love for ourselves. They remind us that what we seek outside of ourselves is a mirror image of the lover within. In this way, true love never makes us feel needy or lacking or anxious. Instead, true love empowers us with its implicit message that we are, always have been, and always will be, made of love.

My one and only attempt at painting this year so far has not been particularly successful !

I am extremely distracted and wrongly assumed that I would be able to rush into the studio and create in between the chaos of celebrating matric results , the anxiety of waiting to hear from universities and the incredible turmoil of trying to organize a child leaving home to study in a different province.

The resulting painting is a mess but it can be painted over and I will begin again ! Which brings me to the point of using colour with confidence !

Because I was so unfocussed on my work, I was not painting spontaneously when I put brush to canvas. I was concentrating too hard on trying to “make it work”. I was not using the colours instinctively but trying to structure the painting with colours that by society “norms “should look good together.

Some artist may get it right, however, I never do. If I don’t paint from a deeper inner inspiration using the colours that make me feel good at the time, the work is not exhibitable.

I love colour, I thrive on it, and to me, living with colour happens instinctively. There are times though, especially when I feel stressed or when I have too much else on the go , that I let reasoning take precedent over instinct and that’s when the social “norms “of using colour come into play and mess up my work.

It has long been a trend to use “neutral “colours in our homes and for our dress codes because “neutrals” are safe !

According to Kelly Berg interior designer, colour consultant and writer, based in the San Francisco Bay Area, we’ve been trained to think that being neutral is a good thing. The word “neutral” has a mostly positive connotation in our society. If we’re neutral, we’re not hostile. We are not out to offend anyone. We are calm and under control. We go along with everything and are considerate of others. We don’t take risks, we don’t make statements, and we don’t express our true feelings. We do and think as we’re supposed to and in doing so we live in a safe and uncomplicated world.

For those of us who have been brought up with this belief , even we creative’s, it can be hard to feel brave about using colour whether we are dressing , painting our homes or creating a work of art.

Consider gazing over a beautiful green meadow sprinkled with wild flowers and commenting, “I love this landscape, but it’s just not neutral enough for me. I really would have gone with Tawny Taupe for the grass colour. It would be much more relaxing”?

Nature doesn’t care about being “neutral”, and neither should we. “Neutrals” were created out of fear. Fear of offending. Fear of committing. Fear of making the wrong choice. Fear of standing out and being different. But who wants to live in an environment built on fear? It’s time for us to

all say no to “neutrals” and happily embrace the hues that nature intended.

So to those of you who feel the desire to express yourselves in colour – BE BOLD ! Let go of what “should” look good or feel good and play with the colours that lift your spirit without giving thought to whether they work or not . My bet is that once you put the colours you love together, the look will work – simply because it’s no longer trying to be a “look”.

A question I am frequently asked is “how long does it take you to do a painting”.

To answer that, firstly, it depends on a number of factors. The subject matter, the size of the canvas and to what degree I am inspired to paint whatever it is I am painting.

Truthfully, it takes years. By this I mean it has taken years to reach the point in which I can execute a painting in a relatively short space of time.

It has taken years of effort to quieten my soul, keep my intentions clear and respect each brushstroke of each painting.

After a great deal of practice I no longer need to think about all the necessary movements I must make, they have become part of my existence.

A blacksmith working steel looks to the untrained eye as if he is merely repeating the same hammer blow, but anyone trained in an art will know that every time the blacksmith lifts the hammer and brings it down, the intensity of the blow is different. The hand repeats the same gesture but as it approaches the metal it understands that it must touch it with more or less force..

The moment comes when you no longer need to think about what you are doing. You become the brush, the paint, the canvas, the art.

I have a poster ( by Fred Babb) in my studio on which is written “Good art won’t match your sofa”, which I use as a daily reminder not to be       lured into the trap of mass producing work that I have little desire or no inspiration to produce.

There's commodity (decorative) and there's art. Art does things that are unexpected, and goes places that are sometimes uncomfortable. And you will seldom find these art pieces blending into the decor. Decorative art generally becomes part of the room. Real art makes a statement. It will stand out and demand attention and whether it simply keeps drawing the eye to it or creates a topic for discussion, a truly inspired work painted passionately, will very rarely be passed over without at least a second glance.

I recently read a comment in which a woman who worked in a framing and print shop was frequently requested to find something that “matched”. On an occasion someone required a piece for the bottom of their stairs. At the end of the hall at the top of the stairs there was a room, and if you were at the top of the stairs and the door was open, you could see that the drapes were green, therefore the art had to match the drapes in the room on a different floor all the way on the other side of the house.

A number of times I have been requested to reproduce a painting using different colours. Blue nudes for instance, because the bedroom was blue and the neutral colours I used would not blend.

Worse still were the clients who would find pictures they liked in print catalogues and request a reproduction, possibly introducing the colours that were on their curtain fabric or walls.

Of course conventions and classic inferences would be an easy set of tools to use to create our work and produce crap very easily. They allow us to paint without thinking, without feeling and without putting anything of ourselves into the crap. When we do that, we are making a product, a commodity – it’s not art!

People use these tools as a way to avoid work, to avoid thinking, to avoid having to find those uncomfortable places where things don't match the sofa.

Many people would rather safely purchase matching commodities than a work of art which forces them explore what's within themselves.

A truly valued audience would be the one looking for artists who will do the work necessary to find unexplored passageways, which will look into their own souls and dredge up things that they themselves are afraid to look at, who will tell the truth, no matter how painful.

Not just string a bunch of ready-made riffs together, top it off with a few really fast scales, and call it a solo.

About 10 days ago I received an email from an art gallery in New York inviting me to submit work to them for concideration for representation. 

Of course the thought of being represented in New York is somewhat thrilling , so I filled in the relevant forms and clicked the submit button , expecting to either wait weeks for a reply or never hear from them again !

Lo and behold , I received an email this morning , much to my delight , telling me that my work qualifies for their representation !

Of course having ones art represented by a large international gallery sound immensely romantic , and to an extent , I suppose for many artists , it is .

However , on initially submitting my documentation , I did not stop to consider the logistics of export and import , duties and taxes - and this , dear friend , takes any romance that may have been associated with the whole thing , right out of the picture !

S A R S ! Always has an intimidating ring to it but I was very pleasantly surprised by the extremely efficient and friendly service I met with once I had built up enough courage to dial the help line !

Pleasant and helpful aside , it does not detract from the extensive paperwork involved in applying for export and import ( yes, import too , because if paintings do not sell , they need to be returned !)

A tremendous amount of admin for an arty type !

I clearly now see , why so many artists , producing outstanding quality work of international quality , keep it local . 

My adventurous spirit however , prevails .......

A while back I received a text message from a friend of mine which read, ?Just because nobody understands you, does not mean that you are an artist?.

I was highly amused at the time but the message slipped my mind until this past week when a colleague and I were discussing who, amongst the artists we know, are where in the world and what they are up to, and I began to wonder why so much of society considers artist as strange or misunderstood.

Admittedly, being labelled in this way can sometimes be attributed to peculiar behaviour (even by artist standards).

Take Tom * for example, who born on Dec 25 came to the conclusion that he was a descendent of Jesus Christ, acquired 12 disciples and started a cult. The role of his disciples was to stand around a large table and paint a variety of colours and shapes on paper or canvas , to which Tom* would later add a few charcoaled figures in strange dream like poses á la Chagall and sign his name at the bottom of the works , which had largely been created by his disciples.

Things soon got out of hand though when Tom* decided to wander around the farm he lived on, in the nude and is purported to have done some strange things with people he should not have been doing strange things with!

Not all of us are Toms however and what would be considered peculiar by the majority of society usually has a very straightforward explanation.

I was recently complaining to a fellow artist and friend that my biggest irritation at the moment, is having to change my clothes half a dozen times a day. I have never become disciplined enough to wear an apron when I paint and apart from being seldom able to find it amongst my canvases , I can?t stand the tie thingy at the back of my neck. I therefore have a range of outfits that I refer to as my ?paint clothes?. They are items that have become laden with paint over the years, worn thin from being covered in solvents and often comprise a particularly messy corner, on which I have repeatedly wiped my brushes.

I therefore change in and out of them as my day unfolds and I have to run errands, shop or do a school lift.

My colleague suggested that I take the arty look along to carry out my chores and my school lifts . She explained that it would be a great marketing tool, in that people would be curious as to what I was painting or why I chose to wear such original attire.

I, however, strongly suspect that the local community will soon be whispering amongst themselves that I am peculiar and have little pride in my appearance.It is perhaps enough already that I am considered reclusive, asocial and have issues with commitment, however, if looked at realistically, it is often what my work requires.

American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson once said ?Art is a jealous mistress, and if a man has genius for painting, poetry, music, architecture or philosophy, he makes a bad husband and ill provider?.

Art requires commitment, hard work and often intense concentration for long periods at a time. Creating a work of art requires focus from the very start of the formation of an idea through to the completion of the work that the idea finally gives rise to. It is very difficult to constantly have ones focus interrupted by phone calls, visitors and social gatherings.

I am quite certain that it is through this same commitment to our work that we become considered ?strange?.

Perhaps now, having justified my ?strangeness?, I might try out my art attire at the mall, at least unlike *Tom, I am not yet compelled to go naked!

*name changed for obvious reasons