Okay, I will fess up… I have not been blogging much lately because I’ve been busy doing other things. Um, important things, you know, communicating, sharing, um… expressing, ah, canoodling, snuggling, um drawing, yes, a little of that, but most importantly, I’ve been busy having sex. WHAT? Don’t tell your mother that! Or my employment counsellor! Or my art-career mentors… what was I thinking? Well, actually, I wasn’t thinking… blissfully, I wasn’t thinking at all, I was forgetting about everything, everyone, everywhere, and just enjoying the moment… What? Too much information? Sorry… but how can you have a sex blog and not talk about actual SEX…
Okay… it’s out. I have sex. And I really like it. And because my lover and I do not live in the same city, it’s often all or nothing. But never nothing. We’re great on the phone. We’re great together. We have fun. There. I said it. Mom, I love sex. The funny thing is, my mom does too; she even told me it was “nice” when I was a little kid and she was reading me and my brother and sister story books about how babies are made. Even when I figured out what actual intercourse involved, in a physical sense, and proclaimed it “gross”, she was kind enough to tell me it was in fact “very enjoyable”.
So what made me such a prude? Why, with cool parents like that, why was I not immune to the guilt and shame so much of our culture carries about sexuality? I don’t know. I only know that in my mind, if there is love involved, it’s all good. I guess love is an easy word for me to use. Many might suggest that even if there is respect involved, it’s all good… but that wasn’t enough for me. There are alot of people I respect but I wouldn’t have sex with them.
And then there’s libido. Sometimes it’s like a raging wild horse, especially for b-o-y-s, but often for women too. And then other people don’t appear to be affected by theirs… and if you are in a situation where sex is not an option and-or barely even a possibility, somehow, we survive… we manage, we carry on. Ask a priest… it doesn’t completely disappear, you just get used to doing without. Like ice cream if you’re lactose intolerant.
Okay, I’m being obnoxious. Really, I don’t have much to say these days, I’m much too busy living fully through this period of a lack of lack. I am thinking about the new website… www.intimography.com. There’s nothing there yet but a logo with a tight-t-shirted model with large mammary glands, but we’re working on putting something up there soon.
Not alot of sites, blogs, etc. talk about intimacy when they talk about sex. That’s how I want this new site to be different. Lots of sex happens without intimacy but intimacy leads to the most beautiful experiences of sex. In my opinion… and yes, in my experience. Intimacy has many more manifestations than simply through sexuality, such closeness can happen between any two or more people in the world with getting “physical”. But because I feel that the human body has been exploited mercilessly through it’s vulnerabilities; apparent weaknesses like illness, nudity, and sexuality, that’s where I want to bring in a new “ography”… images of intimacy, of loving touch, of moments of closeness, of sharing, of difficulty perhaps, but of understanding. Once we get the new site up, we will send out a call to artists for this kind of images to share on the Web. In the meantime, here’s a reminder of an earlier call that asks for one form of this approach: http://www.victoriassketchbook.com/blog/intimite_photography/page005.htm.
Enough for today, I have other things to do… but I’ll be back. Love, Victoria
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