Mocuar and sunlight

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Yum . . .

Stripes

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Lovely . . .

from Erectus

Portrait Of My British Wife

There's been a wee bit of controversy in the press recently about this photograph:

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Portrait of My British Wife by Panayiotis Lamprou is on the shortlist for this year's Taylor Wessing photographic portrait prize.

The debate is, of course, about the clearly displayed cunt. Something which always gladdens the soul, as I've said before.

For example, this article in the Guardian. I found all this 'when does art become voyeurism' stuff very amusing. Isn't all art voyeurism of one sort or another?

The thing I found myself drawn to when I first saw it was the casual erotic power in her pose and expression. There's a total lack of the coyness often seen in explicit photos.

She just is.

The Quiet Mind . . .

The Things That Cause a Quiet Life

My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no dainty fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;

The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.

A translation of Martial, Epigrams, X, 47.
By Henry Howard, earl of Surrey (1517?-1547)

Sometimes you just feel like that . . .