The big part of his trip was traveling up Highway 1 from LA to Legget, OR. It’s something that he’s wanted to do for years. The drive took about four days. He camped a couple of nights along the way. Drove through the Giant Sequoias in California, Big Sur, San Francisco. It finally arrived in Seattle late Tuesday September 9th.

We did the usual tourist things – The Space Needle, rode the Ducks and Mono Rail, the Underground tour, and the Smith Building. So he got a bit of Seattle city flavor. One night, we took in the SinnerSaint Burlesque [link]. I made an extra $120 bucks at the ATM. I never realized that the machines are part slots. And we were comped seats by the MC. All in all, a great night.

The only rough patch of the whole visit was our aborted trip to Mt. Rainier. We wanted to take his motorcycle for a ride through Mt. Rainier park. In Puyallup, we missed a turn. A block later we made a u-turn and dumped the motorcycle. Neither of us were hurt, but his motorcycle’s clutch handle was broken. We gerry-rigged it with a shoestring and rode back home. Dad has been riding motorcycles since before I was born. In all the years that I have ridden bitch this was our first accident.

Dad left this week on Wednesday morning and made it home this afternoon. It wasn’t a spectacular vacation full of adventures, I know. This visit is just about family. My family does great job of hanging out together. We BS, kid, and catch up. If the narrative wasn’t exciting for you, then check out the pics below.

Ballard is a neighborhood in Seattle. It has a distinct Norwegian/Swedish flavor. You can buy lutefisk (gag) here. There are also little viking here and there. Ballard also still has some red brick roads. What is very nice is that it has some great access to the water. The images below were taken from docks, waterway locks, and waterside parks. It’s relaxing to sniff a bit of sea air from time to time.

The massage was our first since our re-acquaintance. It was full of emotion. Sierra had said that she liked to keep her appointments with friends as professional as possible. However, we ended talking very personally about life and happiness. I even shed tears. Sniffle. Sierra did put forward her best massage effort to date. It was a great massage. We enjoyed cups of tea, a walk, and a talk afterwards. A good session.

During our conversation, I mentioned that the Kinky Carnival was being held in my stomping grounds that night. Sierra had thought otherwise, but said she was going. A good carrot to put before me to insure that I would drag my lazy ass from the apartment and down the seven blocks to the Odd Fellows Hall.

The Kinky Carnival is an event organized by Teri Ciacchi. This year’s event was to support survivors and patients of uterine cancer which Teri belongs to the latter group. The Carnival, in its fourth year, is a sex positive event focused around kink culture. There were booths to sample various sensual experiences that are outside of the vanilla spectrum.

When I arrived, I was asked to sign an eleven point disclaimer/waiver. One of the waivers had me agree to the fact that I was not a member of law enforcement. I had to chuckle. If I showed up dress as a motorcycle cop and initialed that line, would I be received suspiciously?

Once the waiver was signed, I presented it to the cashier. She took the waiver and my cash. After checking my coat, I was escorted through the exhibits and instructed in the rules of play. Most play was limited to upper body, but there was very little left out in the scope of play. I could be tied, flogged, hugged, cuddled, kissed, bitten, shocked, eaten off of, pierced, massaged, touched with objects, and humiliated. What a smorgasbord!

I began with a little rope play. Tess is a gorgeous knot tier. She worked alongside of Max of BondageLessons.com. If she wanted, she could have had me hanging from the ceiling fans. Instead, as this was my first time, she opted for just a set of rope cuffs. I felt like I was in steel shackles. The wrists could not be moved together. It was such a simple knot, but it limited motion so well.

I wandered from Tess to the kissing booth. The woman there was gorgeous, too. Stacked like a brick shit house, but I could not stop looking at her eyes (which means that I never read her name tag). She just wanted to kiss people. She asked where I wanted to be kissed. “As I am tied up, I really think that is your choice.” She started with a steamy lip plant and worked to my neck. Glorioski! I think I spotted right there.

I walked around the rest of floor before returning to Tess. She was busy wrapping up another happy customer. So her other gorgeous colleague helped me come undone. Max is a lucky guy to have such attractive work mates.

The room lights blinked a few times. The show downstairs was about to begin. I made my way down and found a chair center row on the aisle. I had yet to see Sierra, but hope springs eternal. At the stage, Mistress Terry was having her boots polished by Peter. That’s not guy euphemism. Peter was dressed in a pilots jump suit and working a shoe shine kit. Mistress Terry’s knee high boots were getting a buffing and licking. Her black patent leather skirt shined against her dark skin. The arriving audience watched quietly.

The MC, a six foot glamorous biter, announced the shows commencement. I watched a French violinist/poet named Racoon, Teri sing the blues, a wonderfully graceful woman dance, another woman recite her seventh grade adventures with Debbie Does Dallas, a naked folk singer sing some of the funniest damn songs, and Peter get spanked by the MC and flogged by Mistress Kerry. The last put a thought into my head.

During the show I heard Sierra laughing from the corner. I glanced back and saw her leaned into her date on a bench near the rear corner. I have to admit a bit of jealousy. She left the show before me. I never did catch up with her that night. I wish I had. My glimpse was enough to catch that she was looking pretty hot that night. The jealousy had faded by the time I left the show. Oh well.

I finished my night with a good flogging. The line was short, but the wait was excruciating. In the meantime, I watched a woman get the spanking of a lifetime. She squirmed and twisted and the woman doling out the punishment twisted, pushed, and pressed the other. It was the funniest thing I saw. Then Elizabeth, my flagellator, put me up against the cross and beat the tar out of my shoulders. It was such a good feeling. Especially after Sierra’s massage.

Coat check was surprised that I was leaving before the Karnival closed, but work was just around the corner. I stopped by a local bar and got a favorite mixed drink. Felt a bit depressed that I was there by myself so the drink didn’t last long. The sting in my shoulder, however, still rings when I move just right.

Back at home, I slept like a baby. Work the next day felt like it was a thousand days from the night before. If it wasn’t for the lingering swipes of the flogger, I would have thought I had never gone to the Karnival, but only had dreamed it.

Jessica and I attended to opening night gala. We wandered the galleries and new titillation around each corner. The Little Red Studio provided a kinetic feast. We watched local burlesque dancers, listened to poets, watched a circle of strangers flirt, and were privy to much more.The show was well-attended. Jessica and I arrived early and by the time we exited the studio, the galleries were filling. We saw all walks strolling the floors. There was leather, vanilla, gay, straight, those not to sure, and those from the fringes. It was a people watching event to be sure.

The artwork ranged in quality (which gave me hope that my work might make it into the next show). I was disappointed with some of the presentations. There were hand prints and dirty glass. Some artists used construction paper for mats and flimsy frames. But this is focusing on a few bad apples. Otherwise, the majority of the work was finely done and presented.

After seeing so many pieces of erotic art, I started to understand what made the better pieces successful. Most pieces were exploring sex in some fashion. What made some stand out was the craft and time given to the work. There were a lot of photographs to be inspired by, but the unsuccessful prints were those that were quick 1-hour lab prints. They just lacked an artist’s interpretation of the subject. Similar images could be trolled from the Internet.

My first impressions were clouded by the crowds and general social atmosphere. I returned on Sunday to revisit the exhibits. It took the edge off of my opening night grousing. What I finally took from the show was a desire to return to my own projects. I think much of the art leaned toward fetish imagery. This placed next to pedestrian passion and sensual expression has a tendency to overshadow what most people can relate to. My work has never been a study of the fringe pleasures. It is about the core pleasures most people experience. This is something that needs to be more closely scrutinized.Next year, people will see what I am talking about.