Singing in the Rain!
Posted: April 20, 2022 Filed under: Entertainment | Tags: art, BDSM, D/s, dievca, Elegant, graffiti, Ice Skating, Life, Love, NYC, video Leave a comment
Photo: NYC Midtown 04/2015
And dievca’s favorite version of Singing in the Rain featuring Kurt Browning!
Skating (reprise)
Posted: December 4, 2021 Filed under: Poetry | Tags: BDSM, Cold Weather, D/s, dievca, elegance, Holiday 2021, Ice Skating, Life, William Wordsworth, Winter 2 Comments—IN the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and, visible for many a mile,
The cottage windows through the twilight blazed,
I heeded not the summons: happy time
It was indeed for all of us; for me
It was a time of rapture. Clear and loud
The village clock tolled six. I wheel’d about,
Proud and exulting, like an untired horse
That cares not for its home. All shod with steel,
We hiss’d along the polish’d ice in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase
And woodland pleasures,—the resounding horn,
The pack loud-bellowing, and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle: with the din
Meanwhile the precipices rang aloud;
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tingled like iron; while the distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy, not unnoticed, while the stars,
Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the image of a star
That gleam’d upon the ice; and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopp’d short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheel’d by me, even as if the earth had roll’d
With visible motion her diurnal round.
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watch’d
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea.
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
Wishing you the best during the Holidays! XO ~ dievca
Posted: December 25, 2020 Filed under: Entertainment, Vintage | Tags: BDSM, Christmas Wishes, D/s, dievca, Holidays 2020, Ice Skating, Patrice Wymore, photo, retro, Winter Leave a comment
Photo: Patrice Wymore – Ice Skating, 1950
May your days be Jolly and you find something fabulous to do outside.
Ice Skating might be on the agenda. XO
Christmas Eve prepping!
Posted: December 24, 2020 Filed under: Entertainment, Vintage | Tags: BDSM, D/s, dievca, Earl Moran, erotic, Holiday 2020, Ice Skating, Jayne Mansfield, Pin-Up, sassy, Sexy, Winter Leave a comment
Getty Images: Artist Earl Moran gets into the picture himself as he shows Jayne Mansfield how to pose, in a provocative manner, in an ice skater’s outfit.
Patinage sur glace
Posted: December 21, 2015 Filed under: Entertainment, Poetry | Tags: BDSM, D/s, dievca, Elegant, fashion, Gifts, Hermès, Holidays 2015, Ice Skating, Master, NYC, Shopping, submissive 4 Comments
at the ready
waiting
to dart artlessly
gracefully
through the mêlée
bodies up
bodies down
some gliding delightfully
and the finale
on bended knee
May you be gifted with Hermès during the Holidays
Skating
Posted: January 27, 2014 Filed under: Clothing, Poetry | Tags: BDSM, Clothing, D/s, Dominant, Elegant, fashion, Ice Skating, Master, Slave, submissive, Tracy Reese, William Wordsworth 8 CommentsBy William Wordsworth
1850
And in the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and visible for many a mile
The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom,
I heeded not their summons; happy time
It was indeed for all of us- for me
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud
The village clock tolled six- I wheeled about,
Proud and exulting like an untried horse
That cares not for his home. All shod with steel,
We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase
And woodland pleasures- the resounding horn,
The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle; with the din
Smitten, the precipices rang aloud.
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while far distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideways, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex of a star
That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining upon my heels,
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me- even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round!