Author Archives: lagodiosa

About lagodiosa

I am an expat, a woman, a goddess, and writer. During the daytime, I play with the words delivered to me in the early pre-dawn hours. When that supply runs out, I take to the cobblestoned streets, and a new flow of intrigue presents.

The greatness of a nation can be judged by the way its animals are treated. – Mahatma Gandhi


Dog poisonings are common in Mexico.

I am one of many owners, who have had their pet poisoned.

As of this point there are well over 60 dogs which have been poisoned in my short time in this area of Mexico.

We humans, require laws to behave well, and consequence if we do not.  Sadly, Mexico is far behind on development in that area, and many are paying a price for that.

I lost my sweet 2 yr old dog, within the first week of what would turn out to be a lengthy assault.  The first poisonings surfaced in August of 2016.  It continued at a rabid pace throughout the following 12 months.  Then it lifted, to resume again every month or so for the following half year.  The latest poisonings took place this past week; 4 dogs have been poisoned.  One was in their safe yard, which is not unusual.  The poisoners tend to have a preference for placing poison in chicken, high on the mountains hiking trails.  However, there is no rhyme or reason to that placement as many a grieving owner will tell you.  Walking on the streets, it only takes a quick swipe of some tiny item, and your dogs fate is determined. 

How does one recover from such loss or witnessing of such pain and fear a dog will experience.  I don’t believe there is such a recovery.  I think there is a realization of so called humanities mental illness.   Yes, we as humans require policing.  

The government was involved in the planting of the poison.  The reason being was to reduce the stray dog population.  With that reduction, amongst other requirements, The stand a chance of winning a special status for the town, and the money that goes with that status. 

Pet owners here initially feel that this is a state of insanity.  

I was informed that church, which is a central in the lives of Mexicans, informs that population that animals do not have souls.  When you hear this from the time you are young, you may begin to believe this?

I feel very sorry for those who have been brainwashed to believe that. 

My dogs are larger, gentle and well trained animals which do not get off leash except when hiking far out of human population areas.  I have not taken my surviving dog for a hike since that happened.  He suffered and continues to suffer from the loss of his friend, and had grieved to the point of becoming ill.  I cannot walk him enough to keep his weight down, and he is now a good 15 pounds heavier and on restrictive diet, which is not controlling that weight enough.

We are planning visits to the US for our recovery.  We plan to  hike in safe areas, and dog parks for his exercise, and hope to recover further.  

How great is a nation, it’s government or people:

The greatness of a nation can be judged by the wayits animals are treated. – Mahatma Gandhi




A celebration speaks of connection, and those whom you are connected to.

Lack of desire to “celebrate” is wildly attuned to the level of nurturing that we experienced in our early years.

The degree of health of that celebration, says more about the participants. Much more, than the about the date or person being celebrated.

The ends of this continuum, have many degrees. On one end is embracement, and the other end rejection.

Some celebrate when a relationship is new, only to settle back into their normal routine years after the newness has faded.

It’s more about the people celebrating, than what is being celebrated.  

Obligatory celebrations are sadly lacking.

Those transparencies will surface.

You will (eventually) acknowledge whom you have in your life.

You will eventually mourn the illusion, and move on.

There are two species of human.  

Those whom were nurtured, and those who were not.  

Be it a birthday, anniversary, valentines day…

How powerful a celebration is, is not really about about the day, the event or the person being celebrated.

Again, the power is about the state of those celebrating (or not).

Those who embrace life fully (or can’t).

When celebration is lacking, one is likely amongst those, who have not been nurtured. 

Celebrations are not mere “Hallmark Holidays”.  

Passionately applied, they “are” for reasons beyond commercial purposes.

It is one thing to celebrate daily, both life and those in your life, and another not to celebrate, nor nurture. 

Relationship Hiccups and Women’s Health


The medical profession won’t inform you fully (if at all).

The pharmaceutical company further infuriates.

A spouse, knee deep in aging aspects, can barely see through his haze.


You may be on your own.

How do you, do MORE, than simply survive?

How do you maintain your ability to be intimate, beyond a cuddle?

Intimacy without penetration, presents risks:

1-Vaginal Atrophy.

2-Narrowing and shrinkage of your vaginal walls.

3-Painful GYN exams.

I recommend you not let that (vaginal) door slam shut. Blunt enough?

I am overtly sensual and passionate about all types of intimacy.

Yet, I found myself years ago, with a partner who was shutting down intimately due to pharmaceutical and aging issues.

As painful as that is emotionally, it is also harmful physically (refer to above) and steps must be taken to avoid that 1-2-3 punch.


For a woman such as myself, you do not want a permanent closing of that door, to that type of intimacy.

The physical steps to protecting yourself are:

Using dilators (Glass Pacik dilators are the best in my view)

Using a vaginal moisturizer 2 x a week (NeuEve Silver Vaginal Suppositories  are best, in my opinion)


The emotional steps, of support during this period, I have yet to discover.


Ladies, I’ve been the adventurous, openminded and kink friendly type-a-woman.
The best part was NOT the physical.

It is connective element offered when one is of that type of nature. All intimacy is of importance.  I would not be so fast to discard any parts of that recipe. All these parts are inter-connective.

It is quite possible the non-kink, vanilla type lady, will actually find dilator use to be a breeze? I wonder. For those with diversity in toys and other such items, may define those items as being for intimacy and the two, vs solo? At any rate, it took me some time to digest those items in a health, verses intimate light.


Take care my friends, and never let any door which could reconnect you to other souls, close. Keep your spirit, sensuality and health, a central focus.









On a simple level, it is a flushing out of toxins,

and easing of muscles.

On a higher plane, it is simply sublimely connective


I have to remind myself of the later.  


Think for a moment of that simple word.  


What image is before your minds eye?  Stop reading this for a moment and really answer that question.  Close your eyes and ask yourself this again.  What image is before you.

In fact, I will leave you untethered to your own thoughts.  All responses to this thread will remain private.


Yes, imagine that.

I would like to hear your response. 

Then, I shall share my response.





Sublime Energía


Goddess; fuel for the soul and cravings long sought.  Sensuality enlightened and YOUR passion returned.  Goddess stirs, this recipe forms… Dash of her energy, heaping handfuls of passion, and ahhh… tantric touch to bring that which YOU believed was unattainable. Silence the secrecy of technology, for once and all. Minus integrity, energy will not align. Bring to simmer, then quick boil. Consume all in it’s entirety and negativity shall recoil.  

Sí, yo te guiaré!



There is a certain nourishment, which accompanies human touch. Without such nurturing, one can suffer emotionally.  Not all touch has substance. There is touch which stems from sexual desire.  In itself, sexual desire is a mere blink of emotion.  Love based touch is resilient. Love in itself, can take weight your shoulders.  Love and sex combined, are powerfully… sublime.  Concern of societies norms, thrown to the wind, and all sensual desires embraced… THAT defies definition… and often society!  For me to have experienced that freedom, was in itself a gift.


Relationships evolve, affected by our challenges; both physical and emotional.  Our egos, may indeed fall under attack.  Aging issues can chip away at ego, particularly masculinity. That’s quite a test of friendship and commitment when those challenges present. It’s also a show of intelligence when those affected, can rewrite how they approach their partner.  


I believe that while everyone has that intelligence, few are able to get past the denial involved to create a fresh canvas in a challenging chapter.  A lifetime of intimacy renders us habitual, and behavior is difficult to relearn.  It’s human nature in thinking; What comes easily at one point, should later as well. To relearn how to touch, when emotions are compromised, involves strength and investment.  It’s that evolution in a relationship, involving an investment, that few can comprehend.  This is especially true, if the smoke of challenge is clouding that vision.  



For continued growth in a long-term relationship, you must invest energy. It takes a very powerful energy within, to grow in the face of challenge.  I noted in a prior post:

It is believed our chakra energy is formed in childhood.  No matter if you believe in chakras or energy, we must acknowledge the lasting touch childhood has upon us.


It’s unfortunate when the *two* do not possess that energy.  It is usually the one who is NOT challenged, which carries that emotional weight and understanding.


This has been the toughest realization of my lifetime.  I’ve loved and lost many dear ones, due to death.  Never before, have I felt loss of one who is among the living and within my reach.


My great grandfathers words ring deep, with this lesson.  Thank you, Papa.  Those words and that story, stand on their own and are due their own entry.

Shooting Star


A bit of chill in the wind,

warmed by a response,

to a shooting star.

Looking up, at the same time.

I am reminded, it was

not a dream.

Distance vanishes.

Brought by the magic of a star,

ah a meteorite. 

The warmth of hearing you once more,

more comfort than imagined.



This move still has an ethereal feel to it.

I cannot shake that dreamy; *Am I really here?* feel to this chapter.

It’s almost as if I dreamed up this town, the lake, the people and their smiles.

Stress upon stress fall behind me, most unable to follow me to Mexico.

The packing that preceded this move, turned into a frenzy in the final weeks.

And then, when that frenzied, determined smoke cleared…  

This is now my home.  A home which feels like home, much more than past moves.


I venture out, down the terrain of cobblestoned streets.  My hiking shoes protect my ankles, as I hoist groceries back up up up that hill.  Transportation is a couple of months

in the distance.  Uh oh… these groceries… I need a burrow at least!  

Where did I see that sign… Massage?    Was it down this street, surely it was?  But no, and so I travel into the village.  Poking my head into doors to find it is oh so so much for a massage.  so very businessy in it’s energy…  uh uh. Feet back on the cobblestones… back up that hill.    Oh once more down this street, that street…



Tantric, Stone, Deep tissue, Chakra and more…

The energy reaches, searches and meets with mine.

This fits like I imagined massage…  Thus my reward, for circling around and around, peaking through corridors and courtyards.


Sublime… so very… and then I hear an addition to the music.  Chanting a touch so low I can barely hear it, thinking it is merely a part of the music?

But, ah the direction is near me.  Little song, and a drop more of chanting, as she works that uncooperative neck and shoulder.   


Quieted, she places what feels like a coin… forehead and points… amid a tapestry of touches, scents, mist whooshing over me… she leans in and whispers, my sensing a question in her tone.. (Gosh my hearing is awful)… She repeats.  “You are different”

I laugh and think to myself… So what else is new?  


Massage over, this talented woman wrestles with English to explain what she meant.  The short of it is, all my chakras are open.

Which seems to surprise her, for most aches and muscle imbalances are in part due to some sort of energy imbalance, of which she explains is not the case with me.  So few words, but so hard to explain to me, for there is a language barrier.  She wants to know why this is, but cannot verbalize it.  I smile and explain how the love lives on… my mother.


It’s interesting, for I know so little of chakras, but instinctively I knew.  I knew that anything which fortified something deep, had to come from my mother/childhood.  Interesting for when I do a touch of research online, I find that childhood is when our chakras are formed.


So my chakras are open… hmmm… this escapee may be powerful in ways that indeed are rather ethereal.







(This painting depicts Picasso’s famous mistress and muse Marie-Therese Walter. A nude Marie-Therese sprawls across the bottom half of the painting, while her bust (a sculpture that Picasso had created in 1931) adorns a pedestal. The leaves are of a philodendron or love tree, a fast-growing plant that Picasso had in his own home. A closer look reveals Picasso’s lips emerging from behind a veil. )



As a verb, to muse is to consider something thoughtfully.

As a noun, it means a person — especially a woman — who is a source of artistic inspiration.


I’d also like to share the following descriptive…

“Many artists, writers, poets and musicians have said that their creative work has been inspired by an individual whom they refer to as their muse. A muse is someone who has such an influence on another that he or she becomes the focus and inspiration for that person’s creative work. The term has historically been used by men to describe the women that they have been in love with and made the subject of their work.

The word muse originates from Greek mythology. The Greek gods Zeus and Mnemosyne had nine daughters called the Muses. The nine daughters were of one being in heart, spirit and thought. If the muses loved a man, then the man’s worries instantly disappeared. The man who was loved by the muses was considered to be more sacred than a holy man.

Throughout the history of the arts, men and women have been inspired by their own muses. Think of John Lennon and Yoko Ono, two people who were inspired by each other and became the subject of much of the other’s work. One world famous artist who incorporated his muses into his work was the painter Pablo Picasso. Throughout his life, each of the women he met and loved became his subject.”

I came across the term muse in many a descriptive, of Picasso’s art.  He often would refer to his subject/mistress(es), as his muse.  I suppose that had impressed me to the point that muse became scented with sexual and intimate implications.

Pablo-Picasso-7Picasso’s mistress Marie-Therese Walter forms the subject of this expensive Picasso painting. The artist captures his muse asleep on a chair  a scene that is repeated in another painting from the same series, La Lecture. Picasso was 50 at the time; Marie-Therese was 24. It is believed that Picasso painted the piece within a single afternoon on 24 January 1932. The painting is famous for its erotic content.  This link offers a bit of history of a few Picasso’s which I found interesting.

I am an artist in written word, erotica, photography and art.  I have always wanted to go deeper into my art.  However, I put my supplies away, decades ago.

Now I am presented with yet another chance!  As I packed for Mexico, I unearthed those treasured art supplies.  I added  more supplies, infused with both new and worn.  The new was easy to behold.  These were new water color pencils.  They would bridge the gap between charcoal and color.  My hands always craved detail and the ease of a pencil.  It will be a difficult habit to break. My mind would crave color, but never having ventured beyond charcoal and pencil.

The worn were of my mothers legacy.  Pastels, lovingly worn, chiseled and chipped by that of my mother’s hand.  When I held them, I felt her.

Those pastels were to be used for a final project.  I was to pose as her model, for a nude. That project never birthed, but in her mind and mine.  I in a sense, was her muse.

Lesson learned.  Never wait, when inspiration embraces.

I will examine this further, and where her hand rested, we both shall create this and other visions.

Where shall this muse, the fuel for such inspiration, be found.

I have first hand, experienced the writing frenzy that is accompanied by a deep friendship or lover.

It is exquisite in colors, so overwhelming that the words and emotion outnumbered the ability to place all on paper.

I see the fire in Picasso’s work, and think of my artists supplies. In thinking back to past inspirations; I am beginning to understand.  For some (myself), inspiration must precede art.   The best inspiration comes from outside ourselves, in that of a mutual inspiration.



Is this deviant enough for you?


Deep anticipatory breath.




Anticipation and desire fogged my vantage.


In hindsight,


Answer with,


encouraging, yet defiant scent of NO!


Hands which restrained,


Delivering decadent jolts by mere stroke.


I assumed intent was as formidable.




A decade later.


Quietly and generous. A whimper, a squeeze


Barely audible,




escaped my lips.


Lip bitten…


Accompaning that slip.


This Siren possesses volumes, unspoken.


Words will not reach, foregone.


Sensuality ingrained, remains.






Tilt of head.


Upward gaze.


This Rx, is heat,


A firm pinch of mental restraint.






Firmly applied.


It’s all in the mind,


of the TWO.


Intent of just one, remains.


Without resolve.