Dream The End » Anaïs Nin https://dreamtheend.com Thu, 22 Apr 2021 19:09:41 +0000 en-US hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.5.1 Anaïs Nin – Bio https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20893 https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20893#comments Thu, 12 Feb 2015 21:52:09 +0000 DTE Studio http://www.dreamtheend.com/?p=20893 Anaïs Nin was born in France in 1903 to Cuban parents. She was spent her early years in France and Europe, and moved with her mother to the US following her parents’ divorce. She began writing journals at the age of eleven and continued throughout most of her life. These journals are considered by many to be her most important work. She is also considered to be one of the finest writers of female erotica. Nin died in January 1977.

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Anaïs Nin is featured in Edition: Love + Sex baby

]]> https://dreamtheend.com/?feed=rss2&p=20893 0 Excerpt https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20961 https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20961#comments Thu, 12 Feb 2015 21:51:53 +0000 DTE Studio http://www.dreamtheend.com/?p=20961 I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ.

]]> https://dreamtheend.com/?feed=rss2&p=20961 0 Excerpt from “Delta of Venus” https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20996 https://dreamtheend.com/?p=20996#comments Thu, 12 Feb 2015 21:51:38 +0000 DTE Studio http://www.dreamtheend.com/?p=20996 The free, uncapturable adventurer, jumping thus from one golden branch to another, almost fell into a trap, a trap of human love, when one night he met the Brazilian dancer Anita at a Peruvian theatre. Her elongated eyes did not close as other women’s eyes did, but like the eyes of tigers, pumas and leopards, the two lids meeting lazily and slowly; and they seemed slightly sewn together towards the nose, making them narrow, with a lascivious, oblique glance falling from them like the glance of a woman who does not want to see what is being done to her body. All this gave her an air of being made love to, which aroused the Baron as soon as he met her. When he went backstage to see her, she was dressing among a profusion of flowers; and for the delight of her admirers who sat around her, she was rouging her sex with her lipstick without permitting them to make a single gesture towards her. When the Baron came in she merely lifted her head and smiled at him. She had one foot on a little table, her elaborate Brazilian dress was lifted, and with her jeweled hands she took up rouging her sex again, laughing at the excitement of the men around her. Her sex was like a giant hothouse flower, larger than any the Baron had seen, and the hair around it abundant and curled, glossy black. It was these lips that she rouged as if they were a mouth, very elaborately so that they became like blood-red camellias, opened by force, showing the closed interior bud, a paler, fine-skinned core of the flower.

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