Category Archives: Sex

sex

At the Core of a Creative Existence

I watched an interesting movie yesterday while I was moping about, called Séraphine. It was a French movie about an average woman, leading a life of hardships, doing whatever jobs possible in 1927 France and who had a passion for painting. She thought she was given a blessing by god that pushed her to follow her gifts. She did not really understand why or where the divine inspiration actually came from, but was compelled to paint at whatever the cost. She was a middle-aged woman, older than myself, living in a place and time of poverty. Yet she found the greatest joy in nature and collected items from her environment to temper and color her paint, blood from a cow liver, mud from a creek, flowering plants by the roadside. She brought these elements into her small one room living space and spent the nights grinding these items into her paints, then created amazing images of that nature in vivid almost childlike impressions. The woman who played Séraphine Louis (Yolande Moreau) was mesmerizing at bringing such honesty and truth to the character. In the end she is discovered as an old lady. The success drove her mad, and she spends her last 10 years in an asylum, disconnected from nature and painting as her imagery becomes legendary.

I saw so many parallels between Séraphine and myself. For many years I have worked in a world of seclusion, being compelled to create something that I never quite understood. I have worked many jobs, just trying to make a living in order to survive. I know my desire is for the naked male, it is my divine inspiration. My connection to my own desires is so strong it often becomes intoxicating. Yes, I know gay men are supposed to become obsessed by sex and the flesh, but somehow it’s not the sex that I am drawn to, it the emotional feelings and what is stirred within those moments before or after sex that I am most fascinated with. It almost seems, to physically touch someone dispels the allure and the touch often leads where I have been so many times before, becoming lost or blinded by its emotional entanglement. I caress my subjects not with my hands, but with the light. I adore their beauty, idolize their skin for its soft silky textures and the way the light glistens on the nape of their neck. Sex is actually the furthest thing from my mind when I am shooting. Sure there are those moments when I become aroused by the process, and it is those moments when I know my images will gain their greatest potency, because I am truly in touch with the erotic core of my process. As Séraphine brought her connection to nature into her vision, I bring that world of sensuality and seduction I have known and longed for into my vision. I realize now it has been the core of my life. I am romantic at heart, I have always been romantic. I spend my nights grinding all the elements of my existence into the tools of my pallet. I have yet to make any money on this process and live my life on the edge of finical struggle. I have the skills, talents and tools to create something that is more viable and commercial, but then it’s really not my vision anymore and becomes something created for others. Though my style and approaches have changed, I am still true to myself and it still remains the journey into myself. I do fear the influence success could have on what I do and I think in many ways it sort of holds me in this place struggling to survive. I am the most content when I am creating. Though my focus is shifting toward self promotion, I still can step back into my world of beautiful light and find the security of those remarkable highly intimate moments with my subjects when the ordinary is allowed to become extraordinary.

Soul Seeker

This morning when I looked on Manhunt, as I do every morning to peruse the personals in quest of new subjects for my photo experiments, I saw a name that actually intrigued me: Soul seeker. Of course I had to respond: “Soul Seeker – Interesting thought, that might make you either a god or a devil, searching for lost souls in a sometimes seemingly soulless environment; like a decent into a modern Dante’s Inferno. It’s really a brilliant concept.” He is a 32 year old, Top/Versatile Male that is 6”0 with a swimmers body, light brown wavy hair and a devilish glean in his blue eyes that has been taken in a multi impression mirror, so we can see the duality of his expression. My mind began spinning amazing thoughts about the possibility of the concept of a devil/angle searching for our lost souls in a man hunting site that has become a dream like world mostly plastered with impressionistic images of cocks, ass and mostly naked bodies seeking sex and quick hookups and an occasional long term relationship. WOW! What a perfect place for such a person to dwell where they can easily claim those souls, many seemingly lost; drifting, waiting, anticipating, on the edge of a dark desire that will either fulfill or consume them. For the most part they are looking to be consumed. This is beginning to sound a lot like a Tennessee Williams play or a short movie, or a study for a new photographic series. “All hope abandon, ye who enter in!” Why does this world of cruising men seem to always have such a dark edge? It is a delicious reverie of the flesh, a mysterious glimpse of a shadow in the darkness, most of them blurred, just a little beyond focus where we get a vague impression, but not sharp enough to contain any hints of reality. Abs are hyper extended, bodies contorted into complex unnatural poses, taken sometime from even more unusual positions. I am captivated and often envious that what I work so hard to create, can become genius at the hands of a skillful cell phone. Light setting in the wrong position creating equally as interesting color casts, that add a garish tone to the overall feel of the image. A skillfully placed strobe to obscure the face, adds to the soulless nature of the headless bodies. It’s like we are all trying to hide something, perhaps our insecurities and yet reveal something someone else might see in us and desire. I sometimes gaze in awe of the brilliance of these images, reading the brief snippets they project out to us and often ponder, who is this person, really. It fascinated me to no end. And I wonder if perhaps if I am not the soul seeker, that devil also trying to steal some of these lost souls. But often the subjects I have culled from these depths and brought into my studio to illuminate redeemed that self respect and dignity they often can’t see within themselves. This is where my imagery becomes it’s most powerful and provocative, restoring all these sorted bits into a distinguishable whole that is pure, healthy and vital. I have often thought it would be interesting to show a collection of these internet images. Printed, matted, framed and hung in a gallery where we could admiringly peer into the depths of these wondrous visions. The art of self selling one’s own sex is often for more interesting then what we give it credit for on the surface.

Requiem of a Dream

I began to realize yesterday what a dream life I have. I am creating and living in a fantasy world that many people only dare dream to enter. Though some of the imagery may not always be that interesting, it is the process of creating it and the connection to the subjects that is really the fascinating part of this type of work. Since my regular work schedule has now shifted from mid afternoon to early evening, I am having to shift my shooting schedule to later evenings. There is something about shooting in a dark studio that becomes seductive and alluring. I mostly use a strobe system that over powers all light so it does not matter if I am shooting in a studio filled with daylight or at night only using the modeling lights from the strobes. I know the effect and how the light works so well, that I can perfect it without even seeing the actual results on the subject. But at night when the subjects are surrounded by darkness and they can only see themselves in the mirror across the room in the beautiful light I have bathed them in, something magical begins to emerge from their personalities as their inhibitions begin to drop. I tend to choose music that many people do not know, that has a hypnotic quality to it that allows the subjects to become lost and delve deeper within themselves. When the subject looks away and becomes unaware of my presence in the space and lets go of themselves these become moments I really look to capture.

Last night I was working with a 24 year old guy on the subject of alluring glances. That moment when you are in a dark, possibly a crowded space, and see someone across the room you desire, how you target your entire being into pulling them in and seducing them with a look. Once they connect, the hunt is on and the more powerful that seduction intensifies, through our eyes and body. At first I found it difficult to relate this concept to a 24 year old, because it’s not the way the younger generation connects anymore, but it was of my generation. But he soon got where I was trying to get and his alluring nature became intoxicating. The balance of light, the beautiful rugged texture of his clothing made me long to reach out and touch him, to hold him, to desire him, to pull him closer to me, and to enter his world physically, emotionally and mentally. It is this moment where the reality blurs into a sort of dream state, where all our senses become heightened and that passion of desire begin to reveal itself. When the photographer and subject can connect to each other on this level the imagery becomes very powerful, even to the unknown subjects who will eventually view these images. These are the moments I have always longed for and found most captivating within my own life. These are the moments I was most keenly aware of how powerful my presence and seduction was to others. It was a moment where the magnetism drew us closer, strangers in a dark lust, disrobing each other with our eyes, risking everything to expose our souls to someone else. Sometimes we have the courage to pursue it and cross the room to make that connection, but more often than not we don’t because we are inhibited by our insecurities. But the moment of that first glance, more often when we don’t connect with them in those sorts of situations, is what leaves an impression that sometimes can linger in our thoughts for a lifetime. I am at my prime when I reach this moment of memory in my photography when I can commit it to my imagery and that dream becomes a reality to someone else viewing.

When I met Glenn, 14 years ago, in this same sort of situation, and we were both young men, I remember vividly this is what pulled us together. That first kiss in the middle of a crowded room was breathless and the world around us stopped. It’s was that moment in West Side Story where Tony and Maria, who shouldn’t be together, do come together and the magic glow of a dream defying all odds begins. Unfortunately, that one ended in tragedy, but the beauty of that moment lingers forever and it’s what we remember most about the story and become haunted by, in the histories of our own memories.

Releasing The Unflinching Creative Possibility

There always seems to be a moment of truth when the ones that are so close to us leave. I feel a bit empty and lonely this morning as Glenn heads to work in North Dakota for the next couple of months. This happens every year that he goes off to do this particular job, but the first day is always the hardest. It’s a moment where I face myself and begin to put our relationship into perspective. I see how much I tend to take relationships and sometimes the people around me for granted. It is my nature to always be aimed at the target and I feel everyone around me believe so much in my visions, they help me remain focused. I love this about Glenn, he has always seen the truth of what I do, admires it, respects it, and has been supportive from the very beginning even when he doesn’t quite understand it. With Glenn he forces me to take breaks and make sure I am eating and makes sure all the household things are taken care of. I grow so accustomed to everything being handled. I don’t feel like I take advantage of him at all, because I don’t really expect it, but it’s what he likes to do, however when it’s always available I often begin to rely on it too much when I actually enjoy doing so much of this for myself.

These months in the fall are generally my greatest spurt of growth as an artist where I can delve deeper within myself without having to switch directions. I have an ambitious fall planned and now have a lot to do in a very short period of time. It is these periods of isolation where I really explore the possibility of how creative I can become. The studio will now become the total workspace for which it was designed and my focus will become more refined and less inhibited. I now have a web world to create and must absolutely focus on just that. It is still delayed by technical difficulties, as we still have not been able to load the templates. I have been in contact with the designer in England who thinks he’s found the issue so we should be up and working on that in the next 24 hours. The prep work is still in hot pursuit and continues. The new intern came in yesterday and worked all day on creating the image bars, and was very good at it. He worked wonderful on his own which allowed me to focus on writing the text. I have also set an ambitious shooting schedule with sessions lined up most every day for the remainder of this week, through the weekend and the beginning of next. We will begin setting the studio up this afternoon to begin the first shoot tonight. I keep hearing from lots of different people with many different talents that are now offering to jump aboard and help out in some way. I can feel the vision and dream starting to emerge and there is something extremely exciting about all this support from outside myself. It truly is becoming a community.

Relying on the Kindness of Strangers

I have a black old mangy three-legged cat that hobbles through my back yard each day looking for scraps. When I try to befriend it, in the garden, it runs away, afraid of human interaction. I don’t know where it lives or even where it comes from, but every time I see it I feel a strong connection to it.

I have two other cats that I have taken in as strays and nursed back to health. They almost look identical, mostly black with white beards from their mouths to their bellies. Kitty came first, when we were doing the construction of the studio, she was constantly at the site, climbing on everything. She is deaf and we never named her because it seemed pointless giving her a name if she could not recognize it. The fact that she can’t hear has some how gives her a boisterous voice that can become annoying when you are trying to sleep. She was a thin, boney thing with droopy eyes and the studio has now become her domain. Bob came by about a year later; he is named such for his missing tail, and walks oddly because of it. He is mute, and when he tries to speak, only a pathetic thin squeak emits from his mouth. He has recently been diagnosed with asthma and we have three options: we can either put him on steroids which will completely alter his personality or get him a kitty inhaler that is outrageously expensive, or allow him to live naturally with his lungs becoming restricted and eventually suffocating. He too came to us emaciated wearing a purple collar that was ratted around his neck and big curious eyes that made him look like he had just come from a circus. Glenn walks them each night through the neighborhood, allowing them and us to explore their worlds, which they enjoy immensely, and now seem to demand, when it gets dark.

I digress and what I was trying to get to was that I have always had a thing for strays. When I was bartender at a hot gay club in Washington DC, in the late eighties, after work on my way home I would often pick up the young male hustlers and take them home. Not for sex, but random acts of kindness often washing their cloths, letting them shower, and feeding them. They somehow always seemed to remind me of my home in Montana and these little acts of kindness went a long way and I was always rewarded, by the dropping of their street attitude as they allowed me into their private personal worlds. They would tell me the stories of their plight leading them to this point in their existence. It was a world I understood and identified with, the desperation and destitute they often felt. Several years earlier when I was in Dallas, at the end of my first relationship, without a job, I too had relied on the kindness of strangers for my own survival, so to speak, so could relate to them and many of them were from places like Montana. My friends where horrified that I would allow these strangers into the house, dismissing them as the underbelly of the world. Then again, it’s part of my Montana nature to be compassionate and look out for others.

I think it is one of the greatest skills I possess is my ability to communicate with anyone. I see in the work I create that experience and exposure allows me very easily to cut to the core and strip away all the grime with which most people surround themselves. This is the true nature of what I do and why I got into photography in the first place. I sometimes forget this and it feels lately have gotten so far from in my process. I am beginning to line subjects up to begin shooting in the next couple of weeks. I now see this is the core of what I need to get back to in my work. All of this talk of creating shows or exposing my work to a broader audience has distracted me, as I recognize I have grown a bit distant from my process. As I am beginning to build this web site I see this is the real essence of what I do and have been doing all along. I think many people in Montana now fear me for my bold and honest approach. As it feels it’s becoming harder to find those subjects willing to reveal themselves.