Taste

The taste of arousal in my mouth is the same as inspiration. Will that even make sense to anyone? I get a taste in my mouth when I have an exciting idea for a painting and I get the same taste when I want to be fucked. Well, taste is the closest way I can describe it. It’s like a feeling of warm air inside my mouth that gets registered by my taste buds.

Another commonality in my experiences of art and sex is that they are both best when uninhibited. The best fucking happens when you are so immersed in the sensations and emotions of the experience that you don’t care about the ugly sounds of squelching and screaming, the comical faces, the abject imperfection of the body and the immense vulnerability of exposure. The best sex happens when you don’t try to tame it or make it presentable. Don’t pretend that the porn you like best is pretty.

It’s the same with art. My favourite sort of art is… the beautiful grotesque. The ugly honest. The awkward vulnerable. The spectacular perverse. I love when art tells me things I don’t want to hear but does so in magical ways. I love art that excites and confronts and challenges.

I love being slapped in the face. Literally and metaphorically. I love one hand around my throat and the other violating my cunt. That one I mean literally but I’m open to creative interpretation.

Right now, I’m way better at fucking. My art is still far too mannered. I’ll work on that.

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Old selfie taken in 2013 for a fetish website.

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