mia loves henry miller – Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man

mia loves henry miller

Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man

 

 

 

Blackdress03

“A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.” –Thomas Carlyle

2/14/2012 – 12:56 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

Happy Valentine’s Day Henry Valentine Miller!  I love you so much!  I genuinely do.  However, I actually think this is a stupid holiday.  I’m not very romantic when it comes to this Hallmark moment.  I think that it’s a ploy to increase the flow in our economy and to put expectations on people that can be unreasonable.  Why can’t we give to others because we love them and wish to express that, on any particular day?  Why do women expect roses that will eventually die or diamonds, baubles and jewels that really do nothing but make one a little more decorative or put them more in the spotlight for thieves?  Or why do we like to receive yucky chocolates, bought at the last moment, in highly decorated boxes?  I do love lingerie though.  I would love new lingerie – sexy black thigh high stockings, long black gloves, matching panties, corset and a bra.  Do you know how many fights I have been in with my significant others because of unrealistic expectations on this holiday?  I once threw a huge bottle of baby powder at my ex-husband, which exploded into large volcanic, white clouds in the bedroom, because he didn’t do anything for me for Valentine’s Day.  I was young and stupid.  He generally bought me cheap, yucky chocolates, in an over decorated box, after Valentine’s Day, when they went on sale.  Today, I feel so much better and emotionally stable that I have no expectations for this day.  I didn’t even remember it was today, until I looked at the date when I began typing this letter. Do you think that I’m being cynical?  Yes, indeed I am!!  I do like this day because the name of it reminds me of you.  I love your middle name. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 32 – To Love or Hate Him? Henry Miller, 50 Year Anniversary of Tropic of Cancer

mia loves henry miller

Letter 32 – To Love or Hate Him? Henry Miller, 50 Year Anniversary of Tropic of Cancer

1/29/12 – 2:06 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

“I’m not a saint, and probably never will be one. Though it occurs to me, as I make this assertion, that I have been called that more than once, and by individuals whom the court would never suspect capable of holding such an opinion. No, I’m not a saint, thank heavens! Nor even a propagandist of a new order. I am simply a man, a man born to write, who has taken as his theme the story of his life. A man who has made it clear, in the telling, that it was a good life, a rich life, a merry life, despite the ups and downs, despite the barriers and obstacles (many of his own making), despite the handicaps imposed by stupid codes and conventions, Indeed, I hope that I have made more than clear, because whatever I may say about my own life which is only a life, is merely a means of talking about life itself, and what I have tried, desperately sometimes, to make clear is this, that I look upon life as good, good no matter on what terms, that I believe it is we who make it unlivable, we, not the gods, not fate, not circumstances.” –Letter from Henry Miller to Trygve Hirsch

I have been doing some research on the internet regarding stories, blogs, and newspaper columns which have been written about you – especially the recent story published by the New York Times.  There’s been some press due to your 50 year anniversary of Tropic of Cancer.  Some people love you and some people hate you.  Some people love your writing and some people can’t stand it – especially many strong, opinionated, female activists.  I must admit, there are some of your books, I really don’t get sucked into, and then there are other books of yours which completely mesmerize me.

What I find so fucked up about critics or journalists trashing you in present time for something you daringly wrote many years ago, is that today, every movie, television show; magazine ad is full of sex or violence.  Everyone is pushing the limits, daring to go to the extreme.  Everything in our society is so laced with violence and sexuality.  I think people need to quit being so judgmental and hypocritical.  Sex is an amazing gift.  We find it more accepting to show murder and killing and beatings in our media than we do sex.  Sexuality is a beautiful thing and people need to quit being so damn uptight about it, as well as hypocritical.  We would not be born into this world without smut, sex, passion, love, heat and kink!  Our sexuality is a large drama of our lives.  Why do we try to hide and deny something that is so natural and good?  I don’t see the animal kingdom feeling shame for their acts of procreation.  Unless you are harming someone against their will sexually, it should not be looked upon as such a forbidden subject in the 20th century. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 27 – Lesson in Trust with Mr. C

mia loves henry miller

Letter 27  Lesson in Trust with Mr. C

“Sure, what’s wrong with being mothered? I spoke of this in a piece I did about love a while back (MLLE, January, 1964) What’s a woman’s value, if it isn’t a force tying men to life, inspiring them to be vital and creative, soothing them when they came home, as they often do,  with their tails between their legs?  There’s something ridiculous about the way so many pompous men regard woman as helpless things who need protection from the world.  A real woman needs no protection.  She doesn’t live in a man’s shadow.  She turns on the light.  And having such an all-women women can make a life or death difference in the way a man lives.” –Henry Miller, Conversations with Henry Miller, Edited by Frank L. Kersnowski and Alice Hughes

1/16/12 – 9:41 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

Good Morning!

This weird fluctuating weather in Minnesota fucks me up.  It was freezing cold on Friday and warm again on Sunday, feeling like spring time. I’ve had a bad headache most of this weekend.  I feel fatigued from fighting the pain. But, I wanted to write, to hopefully forget about the agony from the headache that still remains in my skull like bruising, deep echo.

I was going through some of my old poetry, journals and notes on my computer, this past weekend, discovering new topics to write to you.  I found an old diary entry and want to share a salacious memory with you – one that remains fresh in my memory, as if it happened just yesterday.

“Henry glowed. When I said that I had to go, after we talked a long time, Henry took me into his room and began kissing me, and with Fred so very near, Fred the aristocrat and sensitive man, probably hurt. “I can’t let you go,” says Henry. “We’ll close the door.”  I gave myself to that moment with frenzy.” –Anais Nin, Henry and June Diary, 1931 to 1932

This erotic experience happened more than a decade ago, when Mr. C and I were first married, living at the five bedroom farm house, just outside of the suburbs.  It was in the summer – a very hot and humid day.  We didn’t have an air conditioner, but somehow we made it through, escaping the misery of the summer heat for several hours. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 24 – Love Letters, Midnight to Paris, Erotic Fantasies and the Roaring Twenties

mia loves henry miller

Letter 24 – Love Letters, Midnight in Paris, Erotic Fantasies and the Roaring Twenties

 “That night I was going to hear Henry Miller speak at an acting class, my house burned down.  I didn’t go to the lecture, but a few weeks later I still wanted to meet him.  I began to ask around for his address so I could write to him. At the same time, I was trying to refurnish my home.  At an estate auction I discovered a first edition set of books titled Women through the Ages.  I took out one of the volumes, and there folded inside was a letter from Henry Miller to a woman.  How could I not bid on the books? Three thousand dollars later I owned them and had Miller’s address.  I wrote him, enclosing the letter I had found, as well as a few “actress” photographs of myself that I thought might pique his curiosity. A few days later, Henry sent the first of fifteen hundred letters he was to write to me.  We became good friends and, perhaps, even more.” —Brenda Venus, Dear, Dear Brenda

1/5/12

6:33 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I wish that I would’ve been able to communicate to you via letters, when you were alive.  I would have savored and cherished the words you might have written to me in reply to my letters, upon paper.   Your past lovers, Brenda Venus, Hoki Tokunda, and Anais Nin were lucky to possess a bit of your soul, capturing your spirit with the words you once wrote to them in numerous letters. The great passion you possessed when you were alive, must have bled into the ink like deep, flowing blood. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 19 – The Nightclub, The Gothic, The Kinky, and the Land of the Misfit Toys

mia loves henry miller

Letter 19 – The Nightclub, The Gothic, The Kinky, and the Land of the Misfits Toys

“I masturbate often, luxuriously, without remorse or after distaste.  For the first time I know what it is to eat.  I have gained four pounds.  I get frantically hungry, and the food I eat gives me lingering pleasure.  I never ate before in this deep carnal way.  I have only three desires now, to eat, to sleep, and to fuck.  The cabarets excite me. I want to hear raucous music, to see faces, to brush against bodies, to drink fiery Benedictine.  Beautiful women and handsome men arouse fierce desires in me.   I want to dance. I want drugs.  I want to know perverse people, to be intimate with them.  I never look at naïve faces.  I want to bite into life, and to be torn by it.  Henry does not give me all this.  I have aroused his love.  Curse his love.  He can fuck me as no one else can, but I want more than that.  I’m going to hell, to hell, to hell.  Wild, wild, wild. ” –Anais Nin, Henry and June Diaries, page 179

Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 18 – Caged Infatuation, Goodbye My Mistress, Anais Nin, Henry and June

mia loves henry miller

Letter 18  Caged Infatuation, Goodbye My Mistress, Anais Nin, Henry and June

“The last afternoon in Henry’s hotel room was for me like a white-hot furnace. Before, I had only white heat of the mind and of the imagination; now it is of the blood. Sacred completeness. I come out dazed in the mellow spring evening and I think, now I would not mind dying. Henry has aroused all my real instincts, so that I am no longer ill at ease, famished, incongruous in my world. I have found where I fit. I love him, and yet I am not blind to the elements in us which clash and out of which, later will spring our divorce. I can only feel the now. The now is so rich and so tremendous. As Henry says, ‘Everything is good, good.’” –Anais Nin, The Diaries of Henry and June, page 77

12/20/2011 8:45 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I’ve accomplished much today, cleaning the house, hanging pictures, re-arranging the furniture. It’s been almost a year since Mr. C’s mother died. We had been taking care of her for the past few years, living downstairs, in my mother in – law’s small suburban home, in a small, basement apartment. I have not done anything to the upstairs of her house, to make it my own, until now. It’s looking really good. I like taking a zero budget, using whatever is already in my house, to transcend the plain and ordinary into the decorative and sublime. It’s like transcending tin to gold. It’s kind of a creative rush.

Last night I was going through some of my files, diary entries or letters to you, which I have written over the past ten years, to find material for the letters I’m presently writing to you. I found a diary entry which I published with Mindcaviar.com almost a decade ago. I really enjoyed writing this one. It’s a memory worth re-living. It will give you a deeper understanding of my relationship with MJ. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 14 – Fortune Cookies, Dirty Talk, Spankings and the Smashed, Stepped on Fried Szechuan Green Bean

mia loves henry miller

Letter 14  Fortune Cookies, Dirty Talk, Spankings and the Smashed, Stepped on Fried Szechuan Green Bean

“I don’t believe in health foods and diets.  I have probably been eating the wrong things all my life—and have thrived on it.  What I do I do first for enjoyment.” –Henry Miller, on Turning Eighty

“Writing is its own reward.” –Henry Miller

Continue reading

mia loves henry miler – Letter 13 – The Art of Submission; My First Experience with MJ

mia loves henry miller

Letter 13  The Art of Submission; My First Experience with MJ

“Submission is not about authority and it is not obedience; it is all about relationships of love and respect.”  —William P. Young, The Shack

12/14/11 – 10:09 a.m.

“It isn’t the oceans which cut us off from the world — it’s the American way of looking at things.” –Henry Miller Letter to Lafayette, ‘The Air Conditioned Nightmare

Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 9 – Missing: Sexy, Black Bustier

mia loves henry miller

Letter 9  Missing: Sexy, Black Bustier

Missing:  Sexy, Black Bustier

It’s been missing for almost two years – it simply disappeared

My Fredrick’s of Hollywood, sexy, black bustier

I don’t think I’ll ever forget how I lost–somewhere in the wintry frost

One of my favorite pieces of seductive lingerie

His wife was out of town for two nights – He bought me a short, pleated skirt – off white

Finally together – my lover and I had a sinful slice of quality time

My panties still get very wet – whenever I think of it – I sweat

So I told myself that I must put this erotic time into rhyme

I was a passenger in his car, unknowing – demanding, “Where are we going?”

I can still hear myself ask in frustration to this day

I remember it was snowing – I asked yet again, “Where in the Hell are we going?”

He looked at me voraciously like a stern hunter does his prey

“It’s a secret.” He replies, slyly grinning – “it must be good,” my mind is spinning

Yet, I know deep within he isn’t going to give in and tell me

We drove through Uptown with me still guessing – I was beside myself- distressing

I had no clue where we were going – it was a fucking mystery!

“I thought we were going for dim-sum?” – “Not yet, my naughty one.”

He said to me, still grinning, making me wonder, why?

Now, my heart beats fast and wild – still as curious as a child

We stop at a quaint, white and brown stucco apartment nearby

I had no idea where this adventure would lead – No idea what would proceed

Suddenly, as quick as a heartbeat, a blindfold covered my eyes!

Quickly, I was pushed through a door – I had never been here before

Unfamiliar hands pulled up my skirt, exposing my black thighs highs.

“She’s pretty,” I heard a woman whisper on the wind, – then, strangers softly stroking my skin

They pulled me forward, leading to somewhere unbeknownst to me

Now, bending me over a large, soft bed – a female hand stroking the black silky hair on my head

I heard a male voice say a loud, “Thank you for the gift, she looks very naughty!”

They pulled up the hem of my skirt – took off my black sweater and white skirt

I felt unfamiliar hands slapping bare skin, high on my thighs, near my ass

“Do you like being our toy?  You can answer – no need to be coy.”

I only smiled – as if the naughtiest girl in the class.

“What a sexy bustier – a lovely piece of lingerie!”

The woman said with her admiring eyes

One by one she undid the clasps – upon removing it, I gasped!

One by one she removed my black lace panties and silky black, thigh highs

After they stripped me completely bare – they pulled upon my long, tousled hair

And then captured me inside a web of black nylon restraints upon the bed

Beside me, I felt her sit – near the end of the bed, he firmly flicked my clit

My arms restrained, – and my legs stretched far, until they were widely spread

The rest of a night was a blissful blur – spankings, stroking, and demanding whispers

I could hardly believe that this was real and happening to me!

I could tell my reader so much more – but then, this poem would be too long – a bore

I might end this poem now and leave you with your fantasies.

But, I must tell you this, my reader, my friend – before this poem reads, The End

When we left, I felt so high, so warm, and flustered – I didn’t fully dress

In my hands, I swear I had my black bustier! – Yes, my favorite piece of lingerie!

I must’ve left it behind with strangers, or dropped it somewhere in the snow, I guess.

–Mia (Inspired by Mr. B)

  

“Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.” —Anaïs Nin

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living.  Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure.  That is all.  It appears like an innocuous illness.  Monotony, boredom, death.  Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it.  They work in offices.  They drive a car.  They picnic with their families.  They raise children.  And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.  Some never awaken.” —Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

 12/10/2011 – 6:18 p.m. Dear Henry Miller,

The poem I wrote above was based on a highly stimulating, sensual, cold, snowy night which I had with Mr. B several years ago.  I had to write it down in poetry form as if I was taking a photograph to contain the memory, only with written words, shortly after I had this experience.  This erotic memory has been stained deep inside my brain.  I will never forget how highly aroused this kinky, unexpected experience made me.  I think it’s because I am a writer, a passionate person, and an artist that encourages me to love, and to experience life, new things, new adventures, new talents, foods, countries, people and cities.  The things I hold most near and dear to my heart have been my experiences, my friendships, my family and my memories.

My amorous experience on that chilled evening was extremely erotic, surprising, and so sensual.  The woman I played with warmed me with her feminine, hands which were fondling me gently.  She made me gasp and moan with her pinches and twists on my nipples, with her long, lean fingers.  I inhaled her beauty with her soft kisses.  And I cried a loud with her stern spankings, and sought pleasure with her rough, as well as soft caresses.  Her husband was a lot of fun as well.  We all seemed to play well together.  I must say that I enjoyed the intimacy and close contact with the girl the most.  It’s an arousing experience which I don’t get to indulge in often.  The events of the night took me by surprise.  I had no idea a dark fantasy of mine would become fulfilled.  I often told Mr. B my sexual fantasies after sex, eating ice cream in bed.  Being caught so totally off guard on that night was so shocking to my senses, titillating to soul, satisfying to my curiosity and nourishing to my sexual appetite.  I think that life would be wonderful if we always felt the sense of liberation to connect with people we hardly know.  We generally use most of our energy frightened to connect with others, to stop and say, “hello,” or hesitant to even make eye contact with each other.  I find that engaging so quickly in intimacy with others is a massive rush.  What better thing to share with another human being than the sensations of pleasure, love, closeness, and the experience of crossing all boundaries in such a short amount of time?  I find it thrilling!

I do have to tell you that if I didn’t fully trust Mr. B and the adventures which he takes me on, I would never be able to journey upon this erotic path.  I have the same trust in Mr. C and with MJ.  To give them my trust, submitting to the journey they are escorting me upon, is the most comforting sensation I have ever known.  Each experience has carved me into the woman I am today.  It has healed me in so many ways.  I love who I am – the good and the bad.  I have a sense of confidence and well being that is so strong, it feels euphoric, powerful, and liberating!   I have learned so much by developing my skills in the art of submission, which has benefited my life, my sexuality, my ability to dance, perform, create art, and my ability to write.  I have also grown so much by opening up my heart and trusting my lovers, my friends, and my soul mates.  I have found light in a controversial subject which some may judge as darkness.

“If we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored.  One’s destination is never a place, but rather a new way of looking at things.” –Henry Miller

Good night Henry!

Much love, Mia

mia loves henry miller – Letter 5 – Mr. C: Submission after Midnight

mia loves henry miller

Letter 5 – Mr. C: Submission after Midnight

12-7-11 5:00 p.m.

“True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something beyond himself.”  —Henry Miller

Dear Henry Miller,

I never really knew the true meaning of submission until I met Mr. C.  I had always fantasized about being dominated by a strong male or female up until I had met my husband.  I was young when we first met in person.  I had just turned the age of 30.  I didn’t really know how to ask for what I wanted sexually.  I wasn’t very experienced.  I spent most of my life fearing sex and intimacy.  (I will explain more later).  Mr. C has always shown me so much love and respect, which has liberated me in so many ways.

We initially met on the internet via an online dating website.  We spent a lot of time emailing and talking on the phone before meeting, and in between our first couple of dates.  I think I fell in love with him the moment we first met over drinks and dinner.

It was early on in our dating relationship when we were talking on the phone late at night.  It was near midnight.  Mr. C was working in an IT computer career field and needed to get up early in the morning.  We were talking about sex, giggling and teasing each other.  I told him how I wished he would drive to my home, which was about an hour away, and tie me up and fuck me.   Before I could say, “good bye,” Mr. C was in his truck and on his way to my home.  I could hardly wait! Continue reading