Expression

She was his muse,

His canvas,

His light in the darkness.

A fairytale come alive,

A living shadow rippling

Through the light.

He got on his knees and cursed the Gods,

Cursed the dream,

Cursed the night.

She held him in her bosom,

As he wept,

And comforted him.

For she was his only means of expression

And he was damned without her

____________________________________________

This is a rough free form piece of poetry I wrote on the spot. Maybe it shows.

To me it’s about obsession and love, the creative mind and the torment that comes with that. What is it to you?

In 2018, You Will Be Alright

 

The D/s dynamic.

Master. Slave. Submissive. Dominant. Switch. Primal. New. Old. Divorced. Separated. Isolated.

No matter what you’re feeling, no matter where you are in life, 2018 will be okay for you.

It’s easy though feel fear approaching the new year. What have you achieved? Where are you going? How will you get there? What plan do you have?

The thing is, through hard work and determination, through taking one step at a time – no matter if they’re baby steps – you’ll be perfectly fine. It’s an old saying but it’s something that I found when I was at the lowest in my life – things have a way of working themselves out. What that means for you, time will tell – but things tend to fall into place.

But you can’t expect things to come to you. These things take work. Time. You have to want what you’re seeking. And some days you need to challenge yourself, cauterise the negative thinking and get out of bed.

The same goes for people new to the dynamic, new to exploring where they fit into all of this – whether you’re single and looking for the right partner, whether you’re in a marriage and trying to find the right balance –

All you need is patience, love and the drive to explore and educate. You may not feel up to it every day, some days it will be tough and overwhelming and you will feel like you are about to crash, but keep pushing, keep moving. Keep thinking this is just one day, tomorrow is a new start. A fresh start.

You can achieve anything. If I can, you definitely can.

 

I Used To Want To Be A Nude Photographer


I used to want to get into nude photography. 
I wasn’t just interested in capturing the bare form of a man or woman though, that didn’t interest me as an artist. 

I wanted to make the piece as much about the setting as it was about her form. I wanted the piece to be as much about her trust to me, and my trust to her as it was about the setting.

I’ve always felt like a director, have always loved films and TV. The technical aspect of it has always enriched my mind and stimulated me mentally.

To that end, I could see myself capturing something other people think is mundane – a woman nude vacuuming. About to step in the shower. Hanging the washing.

I love nature, so I’d have to do a theme and set in nature as well. Maybe back home, where the grass is sun kissed and the forest is overgrown. 
Since I’m a fan of Halloween, a Halloween set would be fun. It could either be campy, like an old William Castle flick, or it could be atmospheric and offbeat.

I do have to stress that it wouldn’t be something as forward and conventional as a Hustler mag. I’d want to build around a concept – but more then that, I’d want something that means something to the model, rather then her purely being an instrument in the process.

As much as she might be my conduit for the art, I would want it to be a collaborative effort. A symbiotic relationship. Something she could be proud of just as much as I would be. 

Whatever we do, the possibilities are endless, really, as I’m always inspired to write or capture something in someway.

The Nude Selfie

I’m writing this at 1.57am so apologies if I’m rambling or not making sense. But a topic came to my head and I wanted to talk about the nature of it. And since this is the internet, let’s do this. 

With everyone online, and humans being naturally sexual people (or sexually repressed people), it had to happen sooner or later. The nude selfie. The display of one’s own body. 

Sometimes it’s a cause. Other times it’s empowerment. Sometimes, it’s for shits and giggles. Whatever. But I wanted to talk a little about the art of it all.

Just now, I typed into Instagram the ‘nude selfie’ tag and I got quite a bit of hits, as you’d imagine. It’s late, I’m pondering. Sometimes shapes intrigue. Sometimes I like looking into people’s homes. 

It’s not the act of nudity that intrigues me, I just discovered. It doesn’t mean that much to me because I don’t know the person. Im sure they’re appealing, but it doesn’t hit me like my kitten being naked would. Im of the mindset of having that direct line to the heart behind the shell and that makes it sexy.

So when I see a nude selfie and it’s a man (though it’s usually a lady) with her girls and lady garden out, my mind kind of stutters. 

And I’m probably a snob, you know? Because what I’m getting at here is that what is more stimulating to me as a person, or as a sexual deviant, is when there’s some sort of composition to the image. Maybe they’ve got their hand over their breasts, their lower half hidden, maybe there’s a silhouette behind a shower curtain, maybe it’s comical in some way. 

I’m a fan of mystery. I’m a fan of putting thought behind it, because anyone can take a nude photo and go – here I am, Uncle Sam – and things are fair dinkum. But to work around it? To get creative? I dunno. That’s a person after my own heart. 

But then, I’m guilty of taking the non mysterious pic too. I’ve sent a few cheeky pics to my lady and on Fetlife I just got in and out with a snap. 

I dunno. Maybe it’s the creative beast in me, framing images and thinking of low lighting and ways to position yourself. Sometimes I think I’d like to photograph someone in the nude. But in a tasteful-Playboy-like way, not in a hopping-in-the-shower-here-I-Am way. Although! Naturalistic is beautiful too. And I definitely am an admirer of a beautiful lady slinking off into the shower. But I’m getting sidetracked. Where was I? Oh photography.

I’d like to do that. I’d like to do a set with a theme, kinda like Suicide Girls but probably a bit avante-garde and black and white and artsy somehow. See? Snob!

There’s beauty in the human body. And I think there should be thought, on occasion, to be creative about how you capture this. Obviously this is my ideas, and when sending cheeky snaps to one another, things can be simple and sweet, but for the nude selfie folk out there, the artists, the instagrammers, whoever and whatever, experimentation could be fun.  

Portrait

 

 

6bdcf66f8b541e39f281b7a5e4817e8f.jpg

This one’s just a short one, born out of the notion of looking at people and thinking of what kind of life they lead. I went for intimate and short but sweet. Let me know how I went.

 

Picture this, if you will.
A blonde woman arrives home dressed in her work uniform, a dull grey top with black suit pants.
With a sigh, she throws down her purse, a simple pink thing, and collapses on the bed.
She is 24 and lives with her mother. She is single. She works Monday-Friday, nine to five, at a shoe shop. And this afternoon, she is exhausted.
Her room features walls decorated by a collection of album covers from her favourite artist – Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Cream – it was her dad that led her to fall in love with the rock and roll of the sixties and seventies.
The woman runs a hand through her long blonde hair and registers that it needs a cut. She sighs. Something else to keep track of across the week.
With that, she reaches down and slips out of her black pants.
Her legs, slender and pale, stretch across the floor, sliding against the fabric of the carpet.
She glances down at her underwear – plain bright green boylegs – and hooks her fingers around the elastic and pulls them off.
It falls to the floor twisted and crumpled.
From there, she unbuttons her top. That falls to the floor as well.
She’s wearing a black bra. It’s nothing fancy but it’s the kind of thing that becomes fancy in its plainness. Pretty soon that falls off as well, tumbling onto her blouse on the floor.
The blonde woman stretches back completely naked and feels the ceiling fan skim air down to her small breasts.
A lifetime ago, she would have hated her breasts – absolutely hated them.
Now, she thinks they’re the best thing about her.
She couldn’t describe why, perhaps it was just age that led her to see the appeal within herself.
With that, she fell into a peaceful nap.