three bound mice

running the gauntlet in newtown: luke, kelly & i. will this relationship work? we're out to explore it & play. there are several jokes made through the evening about our polyamorous relationship on this experimental intiation rite. 

we're pretty chilled, leave freaky tiki, arrive at our second designated spot, make introductions & start tying up the waitresses...

a delightful handful of like-minded fetishized souls. we like to create our own entertainment. it's a perfectly good arrangement.

besides it's my friend steven's birthday & what better way to celebrate his burgeoning shibari skills than bind beautiful women to him over a bottle or two of red wine?

this seems to make sense to everyone. resistance is futile. steven's rather a dab hand with that specially hand-hewn softened rope. we like to watch. or be tied up. and vice versa.

steven & i have been in secret shibari talks for awhile. i've moved from model to filmmaker. although there's no reason not to do both. but i've already been naked in my own film, it's someone else's turn. self-voyeurism isn't really my thing. masturbation is better with friends.

cue photo of friends. 

the gauntlet successfully negotiated with flagellation through the laying of rope survived, we cut loose hitting successive locations thereafter under a cloud of more red wine with friendships more taut than the day before. and one happy birthday boy.

i wake up in the morning fully dressed, make-up smeared, blonde hair everywhere from the night before after the other two late night amorous mice have quietly tip-toed tailless out the door. see how they run. back.

initiation right?

the germans are no longer coming. they're here.

our wonderful cine interns felix & michael have arrived fresh off the plane from bayern, deutschland or bavaria, germany for the uninitiated. which will be those who weren't here on monday night, when we had our regular family tribe dinner at the corner shop, punk monk propaganda's home base.

they're hoping to survive sydneyside for seven months & have already managed to live for almost five days meat-free. so many layers of chaos ridden culture shock they're having to endure already.

first we made them cook for fifeen of us. the gimpish servitude starts here. do not pass go. do not collect 200 euros [btw. the flammkuchen, sauerkraut & kartoffelpuffer were delicious, as was marianne's apple cake].

cases upon cases of bitburger later, some jägermeister & whatever remants of bottles of red wine could be found on the premises where what was left of us concocted some lame-ass alcohol infused intiation rite based on the drinking of blood from the magic chalice [which we sourced from raen -- see bottom pic].

no wonder the photos are blurry.