photos from the vault: go fish

This is one of my earliest selfies, which, being pre-blog, I took to send to Wolf. It felt very daring at the time. (Last week’s Sinful Sunday post explains why I’m posting these old photos.)

It’s also one of the first pics of me wearing these stilettos. The heels turn up rather a lot in those early photos; I was clearly intrigued if not smitten with them.

This image still makes Wolf swoon.

Photos from the vault:
still life with stilettos
go fish
I spy
blue coat

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photos from the vault: still life with stilettos

The other day I decided to have a look at the photos on my memory card, which had been sitting on my desk for long enough that I’d forgotten what exactly was on it and why I’d put it there in the first place.

The major thing I’d forgotten was the fact that my entire archive of sexy photos (begun after my epiphany and before I started blogging) was still on it. I’d bought my external hard drive expressly for the purpose of storing photos but it was a big organising job and I’d run out of steam after sifting through the safe-for-work stuff. So yesterday I set to work transferring the NSFW images from card to disc. I’m about halfway done at this point.

Even though I am prone to clutter, I’m very analytical and thus very good at organising most things when I put my mind to it. Since I’ve been having difficulties with depression and, more recently, anxiety, I’ve found that organising the materials as a first step often helps me to overcome the challenge of starting a project that (for whatever reason) feels difficult. As I engage with the various items, I start noticing patterns and small tasks that need doing, and then it doesn’t seem so hard to start doing those tasks.

Organising my photos is, fortunately, firing up the same neurons. I use separate folders for each month, which for me is a long enough period of time that there’s more than just a handful of pics but short enough that it doesn’t bog down the computer when it’s loading up the thumbnails. I’m finding that looking at a collection of photos taken on different days tunes me into the similarities and differences better than looking at each shoot separately, and I start mentally categorising the images and coming up with labels. [Note: I’ve never actually tagged photos before this so I don’t know if I’ll find tags useful in future, but I’m not doing many so it’s not much of a time investment.]

Looking at those early images now, I can see that they are cautious and tentative, and I remember the awkwardness and self-consciousness when I took them. I don’t even appear in the very first images; that honour goes to my then-recently purchased stilettos.

FYI, I’ve gotten loads of enjoyment out of these shoes and have only rarely worn them outside the house. I’m glad I didn’t let “Oh, I’d never wear them anywhere” be an excuse not to buy them.

Photos from the vault:
still life with stilettos
go fish
I spy
blue coat

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Boobday: mile high 21

I think I might be coming out of my not-posting-much phase. Hy is doing a challenge to write Every Damn Day in June, and while I was never posting daily, I think trying to find 10 or 15 minutes a day to just post something may be the kind of kick-start I need. It should help cut down on overthinking, for one thing.

I have to try to get caught up on mile high photos; I’ve got a cache, a stash, a bloody trove of them. And another little trip is coming up next week. This photo is from my trip to Playground Conference 2018, back in February.

badge Boobday