Journal 108
Indigo 38
Stained glass artist
- Life
- A studio with lead scraps swept twice and a bed in the back.
- Temper
- Patient hands and a sudden yes
Kinks
- Courtyards, truck beds, night air
- Where a neighbor could look if they bothered
- One night, a name, no next plan
I work with lead and glass and I sweep the scraps twice because I like a floor I can trust. There is a bed in the back and it is not a promise. I do not keep anyone, and I do not fuck anyone who learns the work under me. There is no one like that in the studio. Strangers come from bars and from the courtyard, one night, a name, no next plan. I am patient with my hands right up until I say yes. Then I want the night air, a courtyard or a truck, and the chance a neighbor might look. I drive my own car home. The glass can wait until morning.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
The truck
Different man, different night, a diner that does not know my name. Nabil is forty-six. He had a pickup and a careful way of asking, and I had my own car in the same lot so I would not need his. We talked for twenty minutes over coffee I actually drank, and then I said I wanted to suck his cock and ride him in the cab and have him…
Read full postThe courtyard
Jace had known me for an hour. That is long enough when the yes is real. He is thirty-two. We met at the bar around the corner and walked because I said I wanted air, and the air I wanted was the brick courtyard beside my studio door. I stood there in the denim jacket and jeans, dark red bob, pale hands that had been patient all day with glass,…
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