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Reflection … Reinvention … Recovery … Anne Takes A Pause

Sensuality Reads

Pubic Hair Is Back, Announces The New York Times

Dasha Zhukova’s BDSM Throne Bashing Is Well Deserved

jd Forte’s ‘The Up and Comers’ & A September 11 Women’s Rights Reflection

Lea Seydoux Seduces In Lui Magazine Relaunch, Lensed By Mario Sorrenti

Anne Rethinks ‘Flawless’, Third-Tier Male Photographers & Values That Matter

Science Argues Women Like Men With Bigger Penises

Kate Upton As Marilyn Monroe & Amanda Marcotte’s PC Madness

Victoria’s Secret Angels have Appeared Often In GQ & Esquire

Marilyn Monroe Photographer Bert Stern Looks To Kate Upton As Next Muse

‘Mine’ By Alvaro de la Herran Starring Marina Jamieson & Garret Neff

The ‘50 Shades of Grey’ BDSM Devil Seduces in the Eternal Submission Collection
Red Genitals Not Arousing In Recent Study, But Men Do Tip Red Shirt Waitresses Better

2013 Is A Year of Revelation and Artistic Rejuvenation for Anne

Sexual Politics & Fashion, 50 Shades of Grey Meets YVVY’s Nude Edition

Islam, Western Guilt, Original Sin & Sensuality | Koray Birand’s Alyssa Miller Images Celebrate Female Eroticism

Loving Relationships | 32 Health Benefits of Sex

American Culture Promotes Female Sexual Dysfunction

For Sister Margaret Farley Responsible Pleasure Is Not a Sin

Strong American Results in Female Sexual Desire Drug

Self Love Is Saying ‘No’ to Fashion Body Images You Hate

Saint Shakira Calls Libido the “Engine of the World”

Male Ego, Women Faking Orgasms & Sensual Chaos in Our Bedrooms

‘Pretty Boy’ Andrej Pejic Talks Sex, Love & Leaving His Gender to ‘Artistic Interpretation’

Find Your Sensual, Sovereign Self with Lone Morch in Paris

Sensual Dames Love Stockings & Garter Belts from Secrets & Lace

Tara, Candice & Robyn | Steven Meisel | Vogue Italia June 2011 | ‘Belle vere’

Franca Sozzani on Curvy Girls, Sensuality & More Body Types in Fashion

Givenchy Transgender Model Lea T Stars in French Vogue (2010)

Tom Ford Embraces Natural Breasts, Not Bombshells

Orgasmic Female Brain in ‘La Petite Mort’

Ever Woman Should Own Jordan Matters’ ‘Uncovered’

Men More Likely Than Women To First Look at Face in Porn Films

Selita Ebanks | Kanye West ‘Runaway’ Full Video Embedded

The Great Wall of Vagina | Learning to Love Our Genitalia

Body Talk | Owning Vulvas, Clits & G-Spots

Mysteries of the Garden of Eden’ | History Channel | In Latin Apple Means Evil

Sexy Doublespeak | American Women & Sexual Honesty

Statistics Say Conservatives Buy More Porn

Forniphilia | Women As Doormats and Other Art Furniture

Women As Muses: What Is Our Place in the Modern World? Or Are We Just ‘Slut Girls’ Today?

Are Stay-at-Home Moms Majority of Cheaters On Ashley Madison?

Fashion Model Andrej Pejic’s Video Interview | A Star Is Born

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Anne’s Essays

The Sexiest Pumpkin Risotto with Lobster Meat Ever

Joe Wehner | Anne Enke Unplugged | ‘Talk to Me’ #1

Women As Muses: What Is Our Place in the Modern World? Or Are We Just ‘Slut Girls’ Today

Will Terrorist Bombers Really Wear Corsets?

Shakira: Brainiac Activist with Curves

Becoming An Ice Cream Sundae via Chocolate Mousse Cake | Chocolate Decadence All The Way

Reflections on Female Sexual Desire: Anais Nin, Marilyn Monroe & Isabelle Allende Join Forces with Anne

Every Woman Should Own a Copy of “Uncovered” & Watch Meredith Viera’s NBC “Today Show”

Marilyn Monroe | A Smart, Sensual Blonde

Beyond the Veil: The Intersection of Sensuality, Culturally Appropriate & Women’s Rights

Saint Shakira Calls Libido the “Engine of the World”

Controlling Women’s Bodies Is a Fight to the Finish

Revolution, Liberty and Independence: Georgia O’Keefe & Judy Chicago as Smart Sensuality, Feminist Artists

While the World Debates Burqas, Fashion Designers Show Beautiful Abayas at Paris’s George V Hotel

Aphrodite Joins Yemaya and Mami Wati for a Swim in Human Consciousness

Smart Sensuality Women as Envisioned by Ellen von Unwerth

A Somewhat Decadent but Fundamentally Good Group of Lubna Ahmed Hussein Lovers Hear Her Calm, Steady Voice: “I Want to Change This Law’

Drawing a Line in Lubna’s Sand, Saying ‘No More’ to the Growing, Global Erosion of Women’s Rights in the Name of Any Man’s Religion

The Sexiest Pumpkin Risotto with Lobster Meat Ever

Arriving At Le Yacout | Dark Drabness Into Sensual Splendor

Marrakesh | Deeply Sensual Dining Pleasure at Le Yacout

My Original Sins: Making Peace with Revelations & Judith Jamison, Thanks to Barack Obama

‘Ashes and Snow’ | Gregory Colbert’s Cathedral to Life


Burning Rubber: Milan to Lugano to Zurich, then Paris

I promised us some light-hearted fun, a few “this is my crazy life” stories to celebrate summer and get me off this “Dare To Be Yourself” kick I’ve been exploring the past few months.

You know me … I’m always looking for connections … then and now … what’s it all about Alfie?

The events of my life are just about the zeros: none or a bunch, and little in between. To illustrate, I have two tales for you  … one about $1 and today about $1000.

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Anne For Real | Formidable but Sensually Flawed in God's Eyes

Updated on Mon, December 19, 2011 by Registered CommenterAnne

010a%204x6Anne6-06.jpgI wish that I could be Mother Teresa, selflessly devoted to the needs of others, but I lack her character and her faith.

Thinking about Tim Russert and Mother Teresa, reflecting then on the terrible tragedies of the Kennedy family, and now Ted’s brain cancer, I’m inspired over their commitment to Catholicism, and their conviction that their Catholic faith has never deserted them.

This has not been my relationship with the Church. My story is nothing compared to the horror stories of young altar boys, and yet, it affected me deeply. I have never escaped it until now … this moment, as I make it real.

Another Anne, Another Scarlet Letter

In my case, God judged me harshly, placing a Scarlet letter on my self, when I was a young woman.  I went to God seeking solace, and instead he cut me loose from everything that mattered to me, forcing me into adulthood a month before my 16th birthday.

The irony of the moment is that my molester, my parents’ best friend, received his body of God.  Together, we made two pacts the prior Saturday afternoon. Swearing on the Bible that we were telling the truth, Father Ben informed us that one of us was committing a mortal sin and going to Hell. Professing ours to be the true version of that dreadful night — when I truly believed I would die before morning — one of us made a pact with God; the other with the Devil.  

I remember being so uncomfortable with the Priest, as I sensed I was not convincing him that my story was true. I had not asked for religious intervention in this matter. It was forced upon me. My attacker and Father Ben were drinking buddies.

I’ve never understood the concept of double trouble in the Catholic religion. If I’m going to Hell anyway, why worry about messing up again? Father Ben explained that to receive the sacraments in this fallen state, would result in another mortal sin.

It made no sense to me, but Father Ben took being God seriously, and especially his resolve not to see me in further trouble. After administering communion to my attacker, kneeling next to me in a cruel moment of fate, the Priest paused before the much younger me … head back, tongue stretched out, waiting uneasily … and then moved on.

For non-Catholic readers, I believe that there is now a sense that the Priest is an agent of God, but in those days HE WAS GOD. 

Branded A Hussy …

The reality of life and human frailty crashed down on my head, because I believed Father Ben was indeed God. In those years, I was one of the most devout Catholic girls around, relying on my faith to help me deal with a formidable home life.

This over-sexed, spiritless, decadent man, who woke me with one hand in my vagina and the other on his penis (sorry dear readers) brought my entire belief system crashing down on my head.  The nightmare only ended because his wife, my adored, nine-month pregnant surrogate mother, arrived home at midnight.

Running away the following morning, before he returned to get me for a day trip to Sioux Falls, I never saw her again, yet another terrible loss to me. There was no way to keep her and our relationship out of the mess.  

Hearing hushed marital whispers down the hall,  I waited all night, for my early execution. I knew that something terrible was going to happen. Our families were best friends.

 … and a Diva With Raging Hormones

The Priest broached the fact that I was exploring my sexuality as a young women and, in truth, do have a gift for storytelling. 

Expressing serious doubts that the event had actually happened, my parents suggested that I was a diva with an overactive imagination. Their final commentary was that if in fact it had happened, I was the cause. As we all know, I seek the limelight.

I must say now that my uncle Vernon, my beloved aunt Mavis and my grandmother Marie … all the adult Enkes except for my father and mother … stood rock-solid behind me. Without them, I have no idea what I would have become as a woman.

via Flickr’s efforest

 … With Delusions of Grandeur

However, I couldn’t convince the people closest to me. I was either lying … or I caused the event to happen, according to my parents.

Don’t ask me how a teenage girl with rollers in her hair, sleeping next to this horrible man’s six-year-old daughter, is offering herself up as sexual bait … but some people on Planet Earth are genuinely perverted in their own train of logic.

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Anne For Real: A New and Far Better Appraisal

Rattled from last weekend’s chemistry washout between two people who had talked extensively with each other before meeting, I sent this man three additional photos of me, besides the six he had already seen.

“I’m not going through this situation again,” I told him. “Here … I think I look fat in this photo. And here … surely my Botox is wearing off in this one. Here, this photo was taken in bad light.”

Based on the same photos, meeting the same woman one week later, B smiled broadly, as I opened the door to his Mercedes 500 roadster.

This highly accomplished men looked at me and said: “Anne, I’m a simple man, so I will keep this short and sweet. Watching you walk out of your building and towards the car, I had only one word on my mind: Bingo.”

Dropping me off last night, my new friend lavished a long list of gorgeous adjectives on me. He also gave me some unsolicited but friendly advice, words echoed endlessly by my dear friend Robert, who has watched me struggle hard to unearth the Anne in me. 

Once and For All, Anne

To summarize: “Stop worrying about what other people think of you. Trust yourself … you’re a magnificent woman … And for the record, this guy has his own issues. He envisioned you as a woman he can handle; he repackaged you in his mind, because he can’t handle the real deal. This is the first subject that you address in your profile. You write: I’m considered a real handful, and not because I’m so busty.”“I concur. You are a handful … but oh what a wonderful one. It’s rare to give someone such a high quality day. I can count mine in life, and this is one of them. Thank you.”

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Before Summer - One More Deep Reflection: June 7, 2008

Hello, my dear friends. I’ve been in psychological and business overload this past week, clearing my head and feeling that it’s time to stop being so serious at Anne of Carversville. We all need a summer break.

Flickr: Rich007 photostream 
I intended to write tomorrow about something totally frivolous … my 154 kmh car chase through the Italian alps, with helicopters overhead, and a road block waiting for me and my driver, as we dropped down to pick up the road to Zurich.

I could recall making an emergency landing in Jamaica, with two Pan Am engines on fire, the day I left my husband for the first time. That journey ended in Santa Marta, Colombia, with me sailing alone up the Magdalena River at 3am … the only English-speaking person on a barge of Colombian workers. We shared no language, but they got me to my destination, which was the sea. No surprise there.

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Estrogen in Women Can Have Testosterone Effects

Scientists reported last week that estrogen fuels feelings of power and competition in women in much the same way testosterone does in men.

Estrogen levels shot up in power-motivated women when they won and plummeted when they lost, while the opposite was true in women who appeared not to be interested in power, the researchers found.

“The biology of dominance in women has been vastly under-researched. On top of that, it sets up very nice parallels with men and testosterone,” said Steven Stanton of the University of Michigan, who conducted the study.

I’m pleased to see this more discriminating look at female biology, rather than the comprehensive, global view of what it is to be female, vs male.

The researchers linked higher levels of estrogen to personality type and not just power motivation. I believe there’s a correlation between personality type and sexual behavior, sexual perspective, even one’s own sexual identity in general terms, not straight, gay or bi.


Life Journeys: Trying to Find Our Own Path in Life

Following the open road is a liberating experience, and one rarely arrives at the intended destination.

I began this quicky J’adore, looking for photos of Bucks County horses, as a followup to my aborted photo session of last week. I came upon this gorgeous photo of roads by Flickr’s noushin n 


Looking at these superb photos made me think of my own life journey and also the poem Ithaka by Constantine Cavafy. (See: Sailing Towards Ithaca 2-27-08).

I enjoyed a No Chemistry but great conversation lunch on Sat. with a psychologist who could quote this poem. I was touched. If you haven’t read this Feb. Journal, I think you would enjoy hearing Sean Connery read Ithaka, with beautiful visual effects.

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My Way | A Confession About Stealing Peonies

It wasn’t lilacs, but peonies . . my very favorite cut flowers … that presented me with my first ethical dilemma in life.  Looking at Darwin’s photo below, reminds me of an old man who taught me a big life lesson.

via Vol-au-Vent at FlickrA Budding Beauty 

It was a warm and lovely spring Saturday in my tiny town. I was scheduled to go to confession at 4pm; my long, straight hair was freshly washed and  bound in curlers. And yes, I admit this to you … at eight years old, I had lust in my heart … for Mr. Gilling’s peonies.

Mr. Gilling was a lonely, difficult man whose garden bordered ours in the back. We never saw him. If he appeared at all … it was to yell at one of us neighborhood kids.

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