In a few of these 6040 blogs I have written of my early attraction to the female sex. It began in kindergarten where I would lift up the skirt of one of the Diligenti quintuplets (three girls and two boys) in Buenos Aires.

My only awareness of my female side happened in the early 80s when I watched Art Bergmann perform with his passionate guitar playing.

Sarah Tonin

And for many years I have received emails or phone calls from women who tell me, “I want to be photographed by you.” This I quickly understood that they wanted to pose with little on.

For some years I wondered and thought and looked up the concept of eroticism. I quickly found out that the imagination of women for this sort of thing surpassed that of this man.

Now in March 2024 I have to assert that I am not interested in eroticism, tight yoga pants, and red carpet cleavage. I smile when I see a woman wearing a demure dress.

And, very important, I am only interested in one woman, Rosemary Elizabeth Healey Waterhouse-Hayward. And she is dead.

I miss the comfort of snuggling up to my grandmother or embracing my mother. I miss that human comfort that women have given me in all my years. I miss walking around the block with Rosemary.

To illustrate this blog I want to place here two photographs of Sarah Tonin (really four as these are sandwich scans of two negatives each where I have mixed one colour negative with a black and white one.

When I originally took them my intention was to show a beautiful woman at her best. But some of that eroticism crept in. Perhaps in this renewed version it has diminished.

I cannot speak for doctors as I am not one. But I am wondering if I am entering my clinical stage?