Big Coyote Energy

Hey friends, Thanks for keeping up with this blog. I really appreciate it, especially after all the short stops and long breaks in-between postings. I've been spending a lot of time making in-person connections and working on a lot of custom artwork. So that is where most of my free time has gone, as such I've been writing less than I've been drawing. Usually it's the other way around (I blame my iPad, that thing is the absolute best). I hope you still continue to check back, the itch to write comes on stronger and this blog will continue to be updated again. Most of my stuff is usually posted first to fetlife, and second back to here as an archive. I've got at least one topic I really do want to write on, which is the strength in submission. At least I've updated the favicon for the site and the logo, so there's something :) Pins are on their way, pick one up at a Cigars Boots and Chocolate event I host.

T he following text was written by @SilverTonguedOne. He sent this to me, as we talked and decompressed after a weekend of intensity shared with new friends. When I met you a year ago, you were a wounded and distrustful Coyote. Mangy because no one had groomed you in ages. Your ribs showed because your meals came as often as you could steal or scavenge something off the side of the road. Don't get me wrong, you were very friendly and loved silly games like tug of war with my boots. But you were generally sad and suspicious. You had a collar on, but it was old and faded and clearly the owner that put it on you wasn't around enough to fix it. But the one thing that was clear on the collar was the name... A year later, your hair is cleaner, longer, healthier. Your ribs don't show and you don't wolf your food anymore because you're no longer afraid each meal may be the last in a while. Your teeth are clean and healthy. You've had your shots and take your medicin...

[Originally published on 1/27/18] I.. Try to be fairly transparent in how I operate and how I interact with others. Whenever someone tries to put me on a pedestal, I usually just calmly tell them that I'm just an asshole with a cigar. I have a wide knowledge base, and a lot of experiences. I take those things and talk to other people about them, like cigar play, bootblacking or pet play. Sometimes I stop talking about certain things. Like with polyamory. I used to teach classes on poly. Since I no longer identify as poly, I feel like it's incredibly wrong of me to teach on that subject. Yes I've got a lot of experience (7+ years worth) and lots of suggestions and tips, but I don't have the emotional energy to talk about it at length with strangers. I have no passion for it, no drive. It's a subject best left to those practicing or identifying as poly. I've pulled my poly classes from my teaching list. After my long-term-partner and I broke up, I was ac...

*Note this was originally written January 2018, and was based on writings on fetlife.com at the time. *  How you can help instead of harm. A few key points to countering abuse, shitty behavior and making the scene (and the world) a better place. Discussions, writings upon writings upon writings on K&P, tears, heartfelt conversations, getting anxious on twitter (that last one is me), but what can we do to attempt to make improvements? Call out your friends. It doesn’t have to be publicly and it doesn’t have to be loudly. But if you see your friend do something shitty, or say something then. Something as simple as “Wow, that was shitty, why would you say that?” or “That wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t say that or do that to someone.” Will go a long way. It allows the group of people you’re in to also feel compelled to speak up. The bystander effect is real. When I started calling out the behavior of my relatives at holiday gatherings, shit got a lot better for everyone. And it ...

This isn't hard. I FOUND SOME READING FOR PEOPLE WHO SEEM TO BE HAVING TROUBLE UNDERSTANDING. YOU'RE WELCOME. What is racism. Why reverse racism isn't a fucking thing. But black people are racist. White privilege, you got it!* But not all white people. Let me play Devil's Advocate for a minute. If this is new to you, and if it is, that's ok, you're going to have some feelings to work through. I'm working through some of my own right now. It's ok to have feelings. It's not ok to snap at POC about how you feel you're except from the racist culture that permeates America. I'm guilty of it, you're guilty of it. We're all guilty of it. BUT, we can use our WHITE PRIVILEGE, to try to fucking do better. So let's do it, shall we? Full disclosure, I've skimmed a lot of these articles, they sum up things I've read and discussed with people in the past, my brain issues are not allowing me to read long articles at ...

[Coyote] She knows it is time to leave. He took off the collar, and with it, everything they ever were melts into memory. She will go, for a time, but always return. The range of her territory, grows slowly outward, in a spiral. She returns to him, his love, his home, his arms. Less and less often. One little thing at a time. He can't be there to feed her today. But maybe tomorrow. She'll stay around hungry for a couple of days, but after that she'll go off on her own. Hunting, scavenging, scrounging. Doing what she's always done. Then the new of 'it will be weeks' until she sees him. She knows. She's always known. This is just not a thing she can have. She is not His, not anymore. Not now. She will check his home often at first, and less often as time goes on. Checking for signs of a fresh scent or activity. Food or treats left out, so she knows he's thinking of her, even if he can't be there. But she knows these things too, will fade and...

I've been having a lot of issues with my anxiety lately, and some depression. The last one isn't common for me. Usually it's just anxiety. But depression has moved in, and it gets to drain the color out of my world. It saps me of my motion. Mires me in a bog of nothingness and I don't know where or how to find the energy to change it. The wounds are fresh and they bleed. I hate it. Even typing this causes me to snarl. It's true. I hate it, but I hate admitting it even more. I hate the way my anxiety locks me up. It isn't just flight or flight... There is a third option, freeze, which is what my anxiety does to me. That's an old battle. The scars are few now, but those that remain are long, and deep. New feelings come from inadequacy. The weasels start to run and shift through my brain like a water in a stream. They sneak into nooks and crannies and eat away the good, and there they stay. Eating. Moving. Writhing. Deeper and deeper. Working towards the...

I'm not a woo creature. I'm either woo-blind, or I don't hear in woo-frequency. Whatever it is, woo is never something that has registered to me. I do understand energy to some level, and the all important spoon theory, but, I've wanted to understand my interaction with energy and why some things impact me the way they do for a long time. I had a conversation with my roommate, recently that was very eye opening. I'd been fishing with Daddy over Independence Day weekend. I thought maybe we'd go out for a few hours and catch some fish and come home and spend there rest of the day doing each other. I was wrong. We were out from noon to past sunset. We made it back to my house around 10pm. I beat out Daddy, I would have kept staying until the light really went. I was having that much fun. How the fuck was my broken ass able to walk around the woods and river, be in the sun, and fish for NINE straight hours? I can't tell you the last time I did anything for ni...

*Note: This post is 7 months old, and about DOFusion17 * Fusion is a blur for me. A blur of emotions, almost all of them in the positive category. This is the first event I have felt present at, in a long time. The car accident last July did a number on me, that year anniversary is coming up and I will not be 100% back to my old self. Fusion was a lot of realizing what my new normal is, and my health problems seem to continue to grow, and some days that's ok, and other days it's crushing, and all of that is also ok. I was distracted, for camp. I spent weeks, even a couple months prepping everything for myself and Silver (@SilverTonugedOne if you want to friend him), and assisting with general Compound things and buying supplies and trying to be a helpful, if not distracted dog. I didn't know until the Thursday 2 weeks before camp that Silver was 100% coming to Fusion. I wouldn't let myself get my hopes up, because I've been there before, hoping with my heart of...

* Note: This post is actually about 7 months old *  I've looked everywhere. In my drawers, under the bed, in the closet. In my car. My backpack. It's no where to be found, my extra love. Sure I love people in my life, a lot of them. I'm blessed enough to have found a group of amazing, incredible, resilient, supportive people. But... I'm not polyamorous. I've tried, I've had good poly relationships, I've been in them, dated poly people, I've taught classes, etc. But right now in my current place in life, that is not for me. That's not a slight against poly people in my life, I will always admire you and how you handle things, but for me, for now, I think I want mostly monogamy. Certainly emotionally, probably physically. I'm still hammering that one out. How that ends up will be after a long discussion with Silver. We currently, intentionally, don't have labels on what we're doing, which leaves me a free agent to do as I wish. If ...

I’ve touched hundreds of pairs of boots since starting my journey as a baby bootie four years ago. Each pair of boots, or piece of leather has left some kind of impression on me. I see blacking as an exchange of energy, and a way I can be casually intimate with strangers and friends and lovers alike in a way that is safe for me. Blacking takes on many different forms for me. At the stand I’m personable, and approachable. I service my community and their leather. I make them shine and then send them away for their fun and adventures. At home, with my partners, it’s a completely different story. Blacking is intimate, dirty, and sexual. Sometimes it’s an ordeal. “Do you need to do any laundry?” He yelled up from my basement. “Laundry… Yeah! My black hamper in my closet, it’s rectangle shaped.” “This stuff smells like a box, I need to wash it.” It smells like a box… Does the box smell like you? I wondered but didn’t ask. Now he would smell like me. My detergent. My house. My be...

Confession: I'm a furry. Sorry you had to find out this way. I'm not a weirdo furry , I'm an executive furry. I don't really tell people I'm a fur, because then the weird questions come up like "well I don't think you own a fursuit, and I don't think you have sex in it..." And both those things are true, I'm not a fursuiter type of furry and I've never had sex in a fursuit and I don't plan to (those things are stifling to be in). I've just always drawn furry art. Although if you ask I'll tell you I draw ~ ~Fantasy ~  art because it's a safer way to mention it, plus I draw dragons and shit so it counts. I've been like this for as long as I can remember. Back in my high school furry days, my fursona/personal character was a Pit Bull, her name was Arceninc (Arc for short) because I was Super Cool TM. . I still have her as a character, she's pretty great. I had her all of high school through college, when I change...

* (Note: This post is old, about a year old, but relevant in my life.) * This is hard to write. I get jealous. I shame myself about what gets me off. My name is Ren and the above two sentences are honest statements. I haven't posted a Winter Fire write up (this would have been Winter Fire 2017). I know. I'm slow. But I think, part of that, is because I need to get this out first. I needed to wrangle my feelings. I've done a lot of consensually fucked up stuff with people. My carefully crafted tower of kink cards began the slow descent to chaos a few years ago when I had a series of break ups in quick succession. I  had  lovely, supportive partners who communicated with me, and were open, and understanding. ... I thought. But I didn't have that. I thought I did, for a long time. That my relationships were good, and they were fulfilling. And they brought me joy. And those things are true, I was always given  just  enough to keep me craving more. Even today...