Cafe Culture

“I woke up thinking a very pleasant thought. There is lots left in the world to read.” ~  Nicholson Baker

It’s been a while since I’ve made myself a regular at any cafe, but at the early stages of a new project, this is where I find myself on the daily – a practice that is grounded in ritual and tradition, and one that I have made part of my routine. Even if I do nothing but read a bit (currently ‘A Box of Matches’ by the great Nicholson Baker) it is time well-spent because crafting a ritual is a form of meditation unto itself.

“That was the problem with reading: you always had to pick up again at the very thing that had made you stop reading the day before.” ~  Nicholson Baker

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30th Anniversary of Finding Our Boston Home

Thirty years ago, on a balmy October day, immediately after getting the go-ahead blessing to begin the quest from my Dad, I embarked upon the search for our Boston home – some place to stay while I finished my matriculation at Brandeis University, and for the family when they visited Boston. We didn’t know then that it would be the single greatest investment our family ever made (well, I had an idea, because all the gays were then flocking to the South End, and where the gays went, the real estate market followed – and exploded).

Still, nothing was guaranteed, and on the night I visited the very last of the three options our real estate broker showed to me, the chains hanging off the door at the next brownstone over seemed a somewhat ominous sign. As I traipsed up a simple but substantial staircase of solid wood, and paused at a marble nook with a single curved stone sculpture in it, I wondered if this would be the one.

Opening the door to the second floor unit, the broker clicked on the overhead lighting, lighting the golden amber floors with a warmth at delicious odds with the suddenly-cold October night. A sad, lumpy, once-cream leather couch sat in the corner like an embarrassing afterthought, but the rest of the expanse was empty.

I wouldn’t realize what a world of difference there was between the light on the first floor of a city brownstone compared to the light of a second floor dwelling – but this was a happy discovery that would wait until years later. On that initial dark night, I slipped silently and almost imperceptibly into a space that might be home.

The broker passed into the bedroom, trying but failing to locate a light until he reached the bathroom. I stood near the entryway alone and felt for my future. A wooden built-in wet bar with an embedded mirror afforded me a quick, dim glimpse of myself; I can’t remember how I looked or what I was wearing. I recall the vague feeling of not being alone there, and there was something joyous and relatively unfamiliar in the sensation. It felt right, it felt safe, and in that moment my heart decided this was the way forward – the first steps of creating my own home.

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An Admission of Loneliness

It couldn’t have been more than a few weeks after I’d first moved into the Boston condo. Night had fallen sooner than expected and as I rounded the corner onto Braddock Park I realized that my windows were one of the few that remained dark.

Because no one was there.

Dried leaves rustled beneath my feet as I approached the row of brownstones. Looking up at my darkened windows, I knew instinctually at that moment that I couldn’t do in to an empty room. Not right then. Something in me understood that if I went in then, that space would be tainted with loneliness, marred by the seemingly-insurmountable sadness and sorrow I suddenly felt. Some inner-sanctum of self-preservation surfaced, and I stopped abruptly mid-stride.

Once in a while, the body leads the mind, the way a forced smile settles some minor bit of ease into a tense situation, and intuitively I let the body lead. Turning around, my physical self knew it couldn’t face the empty rooms, and I walked back the way I’d just come. Heading toward the Copley Place mall, to where there was light, and warmth, and people. It didn’t matter that they were strangers, only that I wasn’t entirely alone. And it made me feel a little less lonely.

That’s not something I ever admitted until now. Even in all the ensuing years where no night was ever spent alone, I never wanted to admit how lonely I once was. It wasn’t shame (I always took pride and comfort in solitude) and it wasn’t embarrassment – it was the absolute refusal of myself to admit to loneliness at the time, because I understood on some level that to admit it would make it real, and that might destroy me.

Carrying that fear with me through the years has been, I see now, an unnecessary burden – and I lay it down here at last as I put the words onto paper, exorcizing another demon after half a century of being haunted. Letting the ghosts go is an integral part of growing up – and even at this ancient age of fifty, there is still more growing up to do. Happily, the heart is more settled now, and part of that has come about with a home in Boston, where once I felt lonely… until I didn’t – and having that home in that favored city is its own charm against loneliness.

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A Boston Night, 30 Years Ago

Scene: Southwest Corridor Park ~ Autumn 1995

A few blocks from the corner where I once kissed a man.

The very first man I ever kissed.

Boston would be haunted in the best and most ravaging ways.

A long line of fallen brown leaves emits an aroma filled with life and decay, betraying a state between two worlds.

Dusk, slowly and insidiously draining color just before it drains the light, falls sweetly or sorrowfully, depending on the mood of the afternoon.

The danger of a whim or a capricious nature.

Falling prey to both before I ever learned to hunt.

Boston would be the one to raise me as a killer.

Boston would build me into a survivor.

And Boston would become my forever beloved.

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Coral Bark Maple, Up in Flames

One of my favorite trees is putting on its final show of the season, as seen in the bright foliage of this coral bark maple tree. Years ago, I planted two of these – at diametrically opposed corners of the house, to soften their 90-degree turns – and they have grown into substantial trees. Their namesake red bark is glorious in the winter, and striking in the spring as it holds the gorgeous new chartreuse foliage against a blue sky.

This time of the year, it goes up in these golden flames, each tree turning into one big ball of fiery wonder, especially in the rich afternoon sunlight that only fall affords.

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The Light of a Corner

Autumn illuminates corners that were darkened with green at the height of summer. This one, surrounded by the leaping arms of a climbing hydrangea, would normally be devouring the sunlight on any given afternoon, swallowing it like some voracious black hole and giving none of it back. Now it is strikingly illuminated by morning and afternoon sun, reflected on the brilliant canary leaves of those up close and further back.

A corner lit by filtered sunlight is a shift from the summer and winter, and somehow more brilliant than both, surpassing even the chartreuse of early spring to give off a light that almost seems to come from within. It is a magical trick, made more enchanting by its fleeting nature. Soon the leaves will be pulled from their perches by wind and rain, and there will be nothing left to set aflame.

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

I always boycott the company that produces the first Christmas commercial I see – and on October 19th it happened when Old Navy broadcasted the first one I caught this season. This will be a boycott that doesn’t really change anything, as I haven’t stepped inside an old Navy since 1998.

#TinyThreads

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In the Hands of Mr. Oud

Mr. Oud holds his pen like one holds a cigarette.

Curling wisps of his namesake fragrance encircle the air around him, his words written like some prayer against the darkening spell of centuries.

Mr. Oud gestures with the hands of a ballet dancer.

The calloused hands of a gardener.

The delicate hands of an effete.

The rough and veiny hands of a man embarking on the latter half of his life.

The hands carefully tying a scarf around the neck of a man in a mirror… as a dance of scarves begins.

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Zip-Tie Pride

Rainbows are indestructible.

In a zip-tie or the sky, the rainbow cannot be so easily eradicated.

It will come and go at its own will, not before or after it is ready.

Do not mistake its prettiness for frailty.

It is not delicate of design or constitution.

Rainbows cannot be felled.

Rainbows cannot be contained.

Rainbows cannot be conquered.

In a rainbow is all the power and might, made up only by the light, as if that is such a small thing in any way.

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Red, White & Boston Blue

The truth is that I hadn’t planned on being in Boston during the No Kings Rally this past Saturday, but when I found myself ambling along Newbury Street and saw the signs of people assembling, I decided to stop by and take part briefly in the proceedings, because this country is in grave danger, whether you choose to believe the reality of that or not, and if all we have is each other, then it was important to feel that we were not alone.

I haven’t been to any rallies or demonstrations or protests since the fight for marriage equality in New York State was raging over a decade ago. That feels quaint now, as well as on the verge of endangerment. The world has gone to hell under the current President, and if you can’t see that I can’t help you.

Boston, for her part, welcomed me as she always has, with these blooms in red, white and blue – a reminder that true patriotism has no place for kings or despots or fascist dictators. As the city opened its arms, I felt the ready acceptance of a majority of people who wanted the best for each other.

A red canna burned its fiery form in the afternoon sunlight, while a white aster nodded in the breeze. A stalk of Monkshood bestowed its blue beauty in the same garden, and together they christened the Boston weekend in patriotic form.

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A Happy Diner Ending

A recent Boston visit begins at the end, because in my experience every ending ends up being the beginning of something else, even if it’s just the return home at the end of a vacation. This fall marks the 30th anniversary of procuring our Boston condo, so I’ve been quietly celebrating this milestone with the posts to come, and this past weekend I spent there simply enjoying the city.

On the early Sunday morning of departure, I made my way to the diner nearby, Charlie’s, which has been in existence long before we moved in thirty years ago, and continues to provide comforting diner food for all early hunger pangs. On this morning, I opted for the Charlie’s Breakfast sandwich, and added some hot sauce for zing.

If I ever manage to retire and am able to spend more than fleeting weekends in Boston, this is the sort of thing I look forward to doing – hanging at the local diner with my favorite server, who welcomed me back to town and engaged in some early-morning banter amid several groups of misbehaving children.

“On Sunday morning we have a lot of hangover people or kids. I don’t know which is worse,” she whispered conspiratorially to me.

“Oh, kids,” I declared without hesitation. The hangover people just want some greasy food and to be left alone, and are thrilled with anyone who helps them accomplish this mission. Kids, and their indulgent parents, are rarely so easily satisfied, even with chocolate chip pancakes and powdered sugar.

She laughed at my instant response. “You just made my morning,” she said, setting off for a pair of youngsters still in their pajamas and jumping from empty diner stool to empty diner stool. She smiled at them and left them to their merriment.

It seems on this particular Sunday morning, Cholula wasn’t my only friend.

It was a delightful ending to a weekend in my beloved city, where other enchantments held me rapt for the days prior…

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Special Guest Blog: Breathwork, Bondage & Sensual Touch by Chad Putman

{It’s been more than a hot minute since our last Special Guest Blog, and I’m thrilled to return the feature to the frontlines by this featured blog post by one of our previous Dazzlers of the Day, Chad Putman. He writes about his foray into tantric touch, the way it enhances intimacy and trust, and how the practice can lead to relaxation, stress relief, and self-exploration. With an inherent sex-positive message at a time when prudish hypocrisy is wreaking destruction, it’s a powerful and mind-expanding take on what is possible when we open our consciousness. Photos by Chad Putman.}

SPECIAL GUEST BLOG by CHAD PUTMAN:

I was scrolling recently on Instagram and saw a post from Burning Man highlighting an offering
for bondage and breathwork. I had not considered the literal combination, but according to the
post the available slots filled up quickly, and the feedback was positive. Although my Tantra Touch and sacred intimacy sessions with clients has incorporated both elements, I had not considered them as a packaged offering.
So, I decided to do a little research with an additional question, what if you added sensual touch
with a focus on gay men?
The outcome: below you will find three general benefits for the combined experience of
bondage, breathwork, and sensual touch for gay men. 
However, I wanted to add some of my own practice experience for additional context and steamy
content for your pleasure and personal practice. 

  1. Enhanced Intimacy and Trust: Engaging in these practices can foster deep emotional
    connections, trust, and vulnerability between partners, strengthening their bond. 
    I have personally witnessed complete strangers surrender in front of me as they engaged in
    breathwork and sensual touch. Allowing themselves to become more vulnerable as I held them
    and disrobed them with consent and sensuality. Each breath and each layer drawing them in from
    the outside, deeper into their body and sensual self.
    After some time, I would slowly shift them to the massage table introducing shifting degrees of
    sensual and erotic touch and energy. I could see them drop into their nude bodies trusting in the
    experience unfolding around and within them. Following my command for breath, awareness
    and surrender while the sensual sounds of music filled the room. Each touch, caress, and motion
    I work to gain their trust, inspired by their physical reaction and arousal.
    More times than not, I ask and encourage my clients to wear a blindfold to allow them to
    minimize the distraction of sight. Often this is the first time they have been blindfolded so I am
    consistently retaining a hand on them to assist with a sense of safety, aiding in their ability to
    ground into their bodies. 
    With tantra massage there is a focus on the four elements and related style of touch or massage.
    Earth touch being firm grip and force on the body, shifting from chest to arms, legs to feet. Water
    is a more liquid touch, often involving massage oil and rhythmic movements. Fire touch helps to
    create those peak moments and sexual stimulation. A perfect time to incorporate some lite or
    heavy bandage to focus sensation and pleasure. Lastly and often after a release some lite air
    touch or fingertips on the skin, exploring the entire body from lips to fingertips to toes. 
  2. Stress Relief and Relaxation: Breathwork and sensual touch can promote relaxation, reduce
    stress, and help improve mental well-being by engaging with the parasympathetic nervous
    system (heart, lungs, digestive system, and sexual organs).

Too often we are told to practice meditation and mindfulness with little to no experience. Too
often, ending brief attempts with frustration and miniscule benefits. 
My personal breathwork practice and work with clients has provided me with an active method
to experience and witness others in a meditative state.
Various forms of breathwork over a brief period, from 5 to 15 minutes, can be enough to increase
oxygen (prana-life force), reduce carbon dioxide in the body, and help release stored tension and
energy. 
The combination of breath, music, smells, lighting, movement, guided meditation, touch, and
stimulation creates an opportunity to surrender, ground, let go, experience the moment, and drop
into the immense amount of pleasure the body can receive and experience. 
It is during these extended moments that I engage the imagination to adventure beyond the limits
of the body and the room. Invoking sacred journeys and connections with Pachamama (earth)
and father universe, one’s higher self and spirit guides. These connections often tie back to the
original intention set by the participant. Seeking out their higher-self or inner child for direction,
insight, and impactful downloads. 
Feeling empowered, grounded and connected, the outside world and endless list of demands and
to-dos slip away, and pleasure begins to take center stage. Breathe, release, engage your throat
chakra and give voice to every cell of your body. 

  1. Self-Exploration and Sensory Awareness: These practices encourage greater self-awareness,
    body positivity, and exploration of desires, leading to improved self-acceptance and sexual
    confidence.
    We do not often communicate our boundaries, desires, and health practices at the time of
    engaging with a sexual partner. This can limit our sexual experience, lead to undesired outcomes,
    and increase anxiety about exposure to sexually transmitted infections. 
    Each of my Tantra Touch and intimacy practice sessions starts with a structured discussion that
    allows for an opportunity to share on these topics helping to create greater self-confidence and
    shared awareness. 
    The combination of all these elements, practices and shared openness leads to an environment in
    support of exploration, increased sensitivity, and appreciation of what our bodies are capable of
    experiencing. 
    These sessions are a perfect opportunity to welcome new experiences, challenge limitations with
    consent and introduce new sensations. The intentional combination of bondage, breathwork and
    sensual touch is an invitation to surrender, ground and release. 
    Every session takes on a life of its own. I never know when we begin, where we will end. I am
    profoundly grateful for the trust of my clients and their willingness to embrace the experience. 

After a 60-, 90- or 120-minute session the peace and tranquility in the room is palatable.
Butterflies circling and landing on the beautiful naked soul, grounded and at peace on the table
under a light sheet to assist with grounding and integration. 
Whether your pleasure practice is solo, partnered, group or part of your regular self-care, consider including breathwork, bondage and sensual touch for an enhanced intimate and erotic
experience. Allow me to guide you or connect with someone you trust. Your body is waiting, are
you ready?
For your own pleasure practice, I have noted some steps you can take to create your own tantra,
personal pleasure practice or to engage with another for some steamy, sensual, full body
pleasure. 
Your practice: start with setting the stage. Set aside some time, pick a space, create a vibe, and
think about what you want your personal or shared experience to entail. 
Do you need a moment of surrender and passion? Are you feeling dominant and particularly
kinky? 
Incorporate mood lighting and music, essential oils, and toys (ropes, ice cubes, blindfold, silk,
nipple claps, massage oil candles, get creative).
Having set the stage, start with some grounding breathwork and music to help you drop out of
your head and into your body. An effective practice includes belly breaths, taking deep breaths
through your nose, filling up your belly, and releasing out of your mouth through pursed lips.
You can count to four on the inhale and six on the exhale to help with focus. Do this for 3-5
minutes, then hold for 30-60 seconds at the top or after the exhale. Then repeat for 2-3 cycles. 
You can also increase the speed and focus of your breath. Inhale through your nose expanding
your chest, exhaling fully through your mouth. Or take short, quick (fire) breaths in and out of
your nose for 60 to 90 seconds. Making sure to take breaks, sitting, or lying down or doing so in
unison with your partner. Added benefit with eye gazing, interlocking lower body and legs and
being nude. 
You can also use this time to concentrate your breath and energy in different parts of your body
from your belly, heart, throat to the soles of your feet, sit bones, top of your head and most
importantly your root chakra at the base of your spine. Activating your sexual, Kundalini energy
and getting the juices flowing. 
Tantra Touch is about conducting sensation with intuition and allowing your body to be the
instrument. Giving a well needed break to your conscious mind and ego. Allow your sensual,
erotic, and animalistic self to lead the way. If it helps, wear blindfolds, including oils and ice for
sensual touch and sensation play. Do not be shy, include touch and massage of your nipples, lips,
cock, balls, and hole. Either laying down, tied up or cuddling with your partner. 

Build the energy and then take a step back to breath, move the energy around the body with lite
touch and breath. Then stir the pot allowing the vibe of the room and music to stimulate and
accentuate the feeling. 
When it is time we welcome the release with your entire body. Breath into your orgasm and
allow your throat to expand with moans and groans of pleasure. Let the universe know your
orgasm is profound, magical, and primal. Burst with the spark of life that transcends time,
galaxies, and gravity. 
But do not stop there. Allow yourself to remain in the moment. Resist the old training that forced
us to clean up and shy away from our body’s potential. Allow your drip, your cum to breathe, to
taste the air you breath. Lay still, relax and release. 
The angles and butterflies are on their way. Resist the temptation to check back in with your ego
and conscious mind. Drift away into a timeless experience of meditation brought on by the full
body experience of pleasure. 
These moments, these experiences are equally as important as the countless other moments that
take up so much of our time. I am of the opinion that our new opportunity in this age of Aquarius
is to spend more time experiencing the pleasures of our body solo and with others. Just maybe,
with more practice, more awareness, and more intention the peace and joy we all seek will be
less illusive and more palatable in the world around us. ~ Chad Putman

————————————————-

Chad Putman, MSW has been practicing tantra for the past two-and-a-half-years. Having studied under seasoned tantra and energy practioners in Costa Rica & Tampa, FL. His mid-life crisis, turned opportunity, lead him to San Juan, Puerto in 2022 in search of a fresh start and renewed zest for life. 

Today his practice of tantra is a spiritual way of life. He has developed his own intuitive services for gay, bi and queer men grounded in breath, embodiment and transformation. He offers tantra touch, intimacy coaching, small group sensual experiences, workshops and international retreats. His celebration of the male body, intimacy and sexuality has empowered clients to reconnect with their bodies, pleasure and intuitive self.

If you would like to connect with him please visit makeyourithappen.com, Instagram @chadputman75, YouTube @chadputman and Onlyfans @Rearontogo or Text 518-225-0957 or chadputman1@gmail.com

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Insta Censored My Ass, Again

Even out-of-focus ass shots are forbidden on Instagram these days, so I’ll give you the uncensored version below, which Instagram so unceremoniously removed from my feed. Oh, the tarnishing of such a legacy is what’s truly obscene! Down with censorship! Down with banning books! Down with this selective freedom of speech and expression when so much hate and vile rhetoric is otherwise allowed!

Just kidding – these sorts of censorship blips have only served to gain more visitors and clicks to this site – which marked over a million hits last month in some strange surge of blog action that has also brought in over 100,000 visitors thus far this month, so censorship seems to be working in my favor. Call it the Barbra Streisand effect. And while this practically-pornographic jockstrap post may have some justification for being removed, the removal of the photo below just shows America’s puritanical hypocrisy. It’s not like I proudly proclaimed I grabbed someone’s pussy without their consent…

PS – Happy anniversary to Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book – great day for it!

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Mr. Oud Senses the Time for a New Project

It speaks in whispers and the faintest of nudges. 

It reveals itself slowly, in small steps and stages, and for the first few instances you may not quite be sure what is being suggested. 

Don’t worry, all will be revealed, you need only be open to the universe. A little bit of patience, a little bit of listening, and a lot of observing – and soon the mission will be clear – or at least the general way the universe wants you to proceed. 

Another thing to set your mind at ease: the world wants you to fulfill your destiny. If you make a drastically wrong turn, it will make notions to offer correction. If you take a mistaken step, new paths to get you to the same destination will appear. Watch for these doors if you feel stuck or unsure. 

Mr. Oud has learned to heed the whispers, to direct his steps according to the little nudges. 

Mr. Oud leans into where the universe is subtly directing him, taking challenges as invitations, discomfort as stimulation, and that initial fear and loathing as an intriguing thrill to conquer. 

Mr. Oud takes his time, trusting that the necessary components will fall into place as they are needed, even if the total picture hasn’t quite been projected just yet. Having faith in your trajectory is one of the most tenuously frightening spaces to find oneself, especially the first few hundred times. 

Mr. Oud is old hat at this creative conundrum.

We will leave him to his work on a fall day that promises autumn things…

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