Appearances

Wow, blog!  That post from earlier today was a big pile of depressing!  So here's something less sad that I dug out of the drafts pile.  I wrote it a couple of months ago, and have no idea where I was going with it.  But here it is, probably in incomplete form, for your reading pleasure!

Working as a professional naked chick does weird things to your relationship with your body, and bodies in general.  At least it did to me.

I get that for many people, their bodies are deeply personal to them.  And why wouldn't they be?  They're the container we're in.  It's the space our minds and spirits inhabit.  We carry them with us everywhere we go.  And yeah, that's pretty personal.  So it follows that the appearance of that container, that space, would be similarly personal.

But when the thing that I was selling was that container, I inevitably changed my relationship with my body.  I've become much more utilitarian about my appearance.  Does it get the job done?  Is it bouncing light as it needs to, carrying me where I need to go, responding to sensory input in the ways I'd like it to?  Cool.  That's what it needs to do.

I'm also pretty honest- at least I think- about the limits of my body.  I don't view that as a personal failing.  There is no way that my body can be perfectly suited to everything.  It isn't.  Nobody's is.  It's suited to that which I need it to do.  And that is exactly what I want.  No more, no less.

Art

I like making art.  I like creating pieces which evoke a response- be it emotional, reflective, or simply "Hey wow, that looks neat!"  Honestly, most of what I do is geared toward that last one.  I admire folks that create with political or social commentary at the forefront, or who really pour their heart and soul into pieces.  But most of what I do comes from a place of "Haha, I'll bet this will look cool!"

This is why I'm no good at writing artist's statements.

But anyhow.  Once in awhile I do shoot content that comes from a more personal place.  This was one of those photos.  I shot it in the fall of 2010, and it was a visual representation of my relationship with sex at the time.  Not so chipper.

Through a somewhat convoluted series of events, this piece ended up in an erotic art show.  I was rather surprised and thrilled by this news (given than I hadn't, ya know, actually submitted the piece to this particular show).  And also somewhat bemused.

This photo came from a place of such frustration and resentment toward sex.  It didn't matter how much I wasn't into it, or how much I was just going through the motions- the show must go on, baby.  So to have a piece with so much negativity tied into it be accepted into a show celebrating eroticism?  I'll admit, I was giggling on the inside as I framed and shipped the piece.

Why is this on my mind now, a year after these events?

In a turn of events that has me giggling once again, the photo that I use for this blog was accepted into an erotic art show.  Asexually erotic, FTW.