A Call To Dream

I am a geeky idealist clenching my (gloved, lubed) fist against the dehumanizing disappointments of the modern world.

This is my battle cry.

Dreams (from xkcd.com)


- MAV

Knowledge In, Knowledge Out

Well! My time away from this blog has been enjoyably chock-full, but one has to put down the crop sometime.

DomCon LA was May 7-11; the fifth anniversary of "America's Premier Professional and Lifestyle Domination Convention", and, yes, Mother's Day weekend. Joining me for her first 'Con was my new friend Domina Gabriella. We took a breath and plunged in: three days of workshops, panel discussions, and networking from morning to evening, capped with the DomCon Fetish Ball. I filled half a notebook, and had the pleasure of realizing how many of the Dommes I knew. For the Fetish Ball, I skinned into my copper latex sheath gown and black patent laceup pumps. Tight rubber and sharp heels: YUM.

The exhaustion was totally worth it (hotel room upstairs from the convention = necessity). slave babbette served "en femme" all weekend, bustling about in a wig that matched my own hair. He looked that little bit closer to emulating his feminine idol, his Goddess. Isn't that sweet?

I'm considering presenting a class or two at DomCon next year. My workshop series at Drake's got shelved when the performance space closed, but that's not the end of my desire to teach. Sure, it's nice to feel validated by sharing what I know, but vastly more important is that I share out of a respect for that knowledge. As was noted in the DomCon "Leather History" discussion, the motto in the leather community used to be "Each One Teach One". And learning along with my students is gratifying in itself. (Kinky teacher/student joke here.)

The stunning photos you see here are from a recent shoot with Gabriella's friend Smashley Walters.

Happy Birthday To Me!

And many happy returns...

My birthday was Friday, February 1. I spent a relaxing weekend in Las Vegas, recreating to my heart's content. Culinary highlight: dinner at Strip Steak, the nouveau-posh eatery in Mandalay Bay. Duck-fat fries were perfect; I got the foie gras simply seared instead of the featured plating. Sumptuous!

Didn't try any of the beef: I'm particular about my steak experience, and I just wasn't in the mood for trendy. Of the limited menu, a quarter of it was given over to "Kobe" (both American-raised and Japanese) and other select cuts. I prefer a more serious approach; "superhip bistro" is not, I feel, the properly reverent atmosphere for a superbly aged, exceptionally textured cut of prime meat (although they did have blue cheese-stuffed olives for my martini). Maybe next time.

Went to see "Spamalot", the Monty Python-come-to-Broadway show. Fantastic! The Vegas location was given frequent nods in song material and set design, and a good number of the musical pieces were original to the show: not just a retread of movie bits. Did I mention that the female lead was stacked and packing serious pipes?! Oh my goodness, my view was excellent, and she must have had an extra set of lungs in those luscious endowments! Much to laugh and clap about, and the theater, housed in the Wynn casino, was gorgeous.

I love Vegas every time I go there, but the best part about leaving L.A. is coming back. I never feel so appreciative of where I live as when I'm coming back. (There's something vaguely poetic there, but I'll leave that to the folk singers in the crowd.) Besides culture, Los Angeles can host a significant BDSM scene. Not so for other cities in the United States (Boston, I love you too, but I'm looking in your direction).

Speaking of, I'll be heading back east this spring. Baltimore in late February, though this will be strictly a personal visit. Family member in ill health and all. Boston and New York in March, this time to play! I still consider myself an East Coast girl at heart, and it's been too long since I've paid a visit. I am already relishing the naughty fun I expect to get up to; no doubt I'll have plenty to write about!

Open Ends and New Beginnings

Happy New Year, pervy people!

Here's a flash from my past: me, proudly displaying the weapons of ass destruction that Lisa Berlin brought to our shoot a couple years ago. You can see more of me at the Windowgirl site; tell them you want more Anna Valentina!

I feel calmly optimistic about this year. Travel, filming, new equipment all beckon to me in the shimmering almost-now. This spring marks my eighth year as a full-time domme; nine when you count the time before I moved west. Eight years of blood, sweat, and tears (bless you, power bottoms :) and I still feel like I have so much to learn.

Thank goodness. What would I do if I had nothing left to conquer?

What's never changed over the years is my joy in domination. Of all the sensual and psychological details, I love most what happens in me: I shed everything and become calm, savage, clear-eyed. Everything unnecessary burns away, and all that is left is perfect.

In a recent conversation with a friend, I described my fetish mindset as "remembering that pure state of innocence, before inhibitions and shame are learned". We don't associate "badness" with pleasure or bodily functions until we become socialized.

If only we, like Oscar Wilde, were more embarrassed by human misery than by pleasure; then the world would be a more agreeable place.