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 15 – Summer Heat, Northern Lights, and Sex by Duluth’s Fresh Water Sea

mia loves henry miller

Letter 15  Summer Heat, Northern Lights, and Sex by Duluth’s Fresh Water Sea

12/18/2011 – 11:01 a.m.

“Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy; I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of them is not my concern.” –Henry Miller


Dear Henry Miller,

Mr. C has to work today.  He had to work all day yesterday as well.  Mr. B is also busy with work – writing the outline for his new book, and spending some quality time with his wife.  I have the day to myself to write and clean the house (writing-Yay! Cleaning bleh!)  I’m having my large family come for Christmas Eve Dinner.   I still have much to do.   I have no clue as to where I will place them all inside my tiny, 1940’s style home.   I was teasing Mr. C, this morning, that I was going to walk to the nearby dollar store and buy some garland to drape on the fireplace.  He practically puked.  I chuckled at his response, which was predictable.  Mr. C is a Scrooge as well.  We are a match made in Heaven. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 12 – Whispers To My Lover

mia loves henry miller

Letter 12  Whispers To My Lover

“After dinner, Sophia, Josh, and Isadora were all three bemoaning the state of the world and smoking a little dope.  From which they professed into one of those discussions of “open” marriage which is clearly a come on.  Since Isadora could see Josh eyeing Sophia’s tits with undisguised yearning, and since Josh was in a deep depression following the publication of a book that was ignored, and since Isadora believed she could sooner keep him by holding him loosely than by trying to bind to herself his joy (to steal a metaphor from Blake), she didn’t protest when Josh maneuvered them all to the waterbed.” —Erica Jong, Parachutes & Kisses

Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 11 – Baths Before Burlesque Shows, New Beginnings, Overcoming Obstacles, and the Shock of Being Trapped and Exposed

mia loves henry miller

Letter 11  Baths Before Burlesque Shows, New Beginnings, Overcoming Obstacles, and the Shock of Being Trapped and Exposed

12/11/2011 10:33 p.m.

“The difference between burlesque and the newspapers is that the former never pretended to be performing a public service by exposure.” —I. F. Stone

Dear Henry Miller,

It’s getting late.  I plan on going to bed soon.  But, I wanted to write a few sentences.  I have to paint a majority of the day tomorrow.  I am hoping to finish a portrait.  I have been working on for weeks.  My goal is to finish by Christmas time – which is quickly approaching.  The portrait is for the mural project.  However, my soul is itching to write.  I will have to do it in small segments throughout the day tomorrow.  I wanted to get a head start on it tonight.   The words I want to write are flowing out of me like a rushing river.  It’s hard to keep up with all the topics I’d like to discuss with you.   For, now I’m just keeping everything simple and concentrating on one letter at a time.  I suppose it’s better to write a little bit to you whenever I can, than to not do it at all.  Each moment I get a chance to write, a few sentences here and there, it will get me closer to finishing.  I am finding the bliss in writing again.  It’s a highly euphoric feeling.  Thank you for being my muse and inspiration.

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