Art and Sexy Things like Vampires…

Today I’m in tech rehearsal alllllll day for Dracula! We open tomorrow evening, and this show is a ginormous production with a million moving parts. I’m really proud of the producers and creators for building this wonderful monster of a production. I play a tiny role: the ship Demeter whose crew is murdered by Dracula as I sail my way, tempest tossed, to shore.

The act is about relationship, power, control, and spirit.

I’ve realized I’m at the point in my (many) career(s) where the manipulation of energy itself—between myself and my audience, a room, an individual, or a small group of people—is a medium I’m well versed enough in to feel as though I’m sculpting as I play. My choreography for Dracula is simple storytelling, acting as much as dancing or moving around the room. It’s rewarding to create this way and to have the opportunity to focus on costume and vision as much as story.

Speaking of theatrics, I’ve spent the week completely rearranging my house. My living room is becoming a dungeon-cum-performance space. I need room to teach and scene, and for performance choreography. My workbench, tools, and art supplies have been put into a room of their own, and that room can double as my guest bed… perhaps at some point in the near future I’ll build a cage in the closet for anyone needing a cur’s resting place.

I have yet to figure out how to afford it all myself—an undertaking I haven’t been so ambitious to chase before. [Insert shameless plug to join my Patreon and/or come take classes from me to help me maintain this undertaking!] The ultimate intent is a place to create, little by little, a microcosm of the art I’ve been dreaming of and working toward for the past few years.

“Listen. No Speaking. Touch” is a part of that vision. My work with The Scarlet Tongue Project is a part of that vision. The option to explore sensation, art, relational dynamics, energetic conversations, and share with my small audiences environmentally based opportunities in nontraditional ways is the rest of it. The world of my environment shall be a cultivated museum for play; a world constructed by yours truly for the discovery of my ticket holders; immersive theater meets honest connection rolled into the time it takes to have a proper tea…

“What does that mean”, you ask? You’ll have to sign up to find out. In my space the world is your oyster, however the limitations of my offerings are consent-based and dependent on our dynamic. Perhaps, imagine a museum of curiosities where you may ask about and potentially experience the artifacts in action…

Why? I grew up playing outdoors and creating games for all the kids to pass our time until dinner. I’m still that kid. I notice who likes what, I still carry with me a big imagination, and love instigation. With adult skills, better command of communication, a more detailed comprehension of consent, and a healthy knowledge of the limits and safety within my control, I aim to remind those around me how important it is to play. Let me be your instigator friend, and we’ll pass time as curious playful grown-ups can, before being called in for dinner.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

This writing takes time, research, and consideration. It is my art.
Please visit my Patreon, offer one time Support or email me for options. Thank you.

Conversations with Depression

Photo by RADskillZ Photography 2013

I am shrinking and I don’t know what to do. The malaise is strong and I fear I won’t ever get back up. Moments pass and I feel stuck in the mud of forever. It’s moments like these that I know I’m unimportant. Lowly. Covered in dirt without the excitement of being dirty. Destined for a lonely and meaningless death.

It’s hard for me to write these minutes, hours, days. Catatonic I lie on my bed “working”… steadily adding to the number of rejections I can get in an hour of saying hello to profiles of people who say they want, when what they truly mean is fantasy poster types I cannot play. Mostly incompatible with androgyny. I can’t throw on fem fantasy robes as easily these days. Suspending disbelief from straight cis ignorance is getting impossible with my handful of charming whiskers… I’m no longer passing.

How do I roll from my pillow into the heartbeat of a club? These limbs are heavy. It seems Universes away to try and grasp the vibrancy of my true dreams, but my visions are beautiful and they cost money. All I want is to be fed clean fruits from the Earth, enough individuals trickling through my parlor to live well, enough left to give back to my communities without struggle, and to do the work I know so well — releasing clients from their private Hells. I just want the opportunity to work and please.

And yes, I want pleasure too. To bask in the difference I make, know the world’s a safer and more beautiful place because of ethics I teach, an alchemy which we, in an hour or two, create. I want to see through their eyes after catharsis. My touch. This space. My rooms of calm and holding dreams most never dare to share, are wanting.

I do not expect a certain outcome, wading into these waters of wonder, but I bring a few post-it-notes as guide:

  • No marking
  • Humiliation please
  • Sensory deprivation and the patterns of twitching on this body
  • Broad smile on a blindfolded face, teeth bared
  • Excitement visible yet vulnerable
  • My fingers feel out each point for pleasure-ridden pain

Cat and mouse, I could bat at you, claws out, all day.

The moments I’m most grateful for have been marked with a head between my cloth covered thighs. “Deep breath in,” I guide, “Exhale. Now repeat”. Heady still, one remembers that scent and texts me about it half a week later.

Another one deeply lets go inside his heart as I cradle him, lips on my nipple, knowing their way to comfort. I collect his legs with my free arm, pulling his body closer and he is so small, so much smaller than me for a minute. Deep primal archetypes are we.

This one radiates Love — actual “in love” chemicals charge the air thick between us — as I push each needle in. His joy is a sensation I feel. His energy matches mine, and we build a solid castle of exchange. Love for love. Medical grade.

But no release today.

No release today.

No release today… no release.

Unlocking the intelligence of hearts and hands comes after Ego slips away… We are children in here, these bodies made of dissolving expectation and mounting tension. There is nothing more in this safe room than play.

So no release today.

No release today… no release.

Climax. Happens beyond the border of our yeses and nos. It is not a steep incline, jagged mountain cliffs drawn on a statistical chart. Climax is stiff in the center and warm soft air all around. The pressure is different. It is coursing, full of the living, there are countless entities pressing in, eternal knowings and also nothing. Endless stars in the sky. We are made of this moment, and to this Universe we give back a measure of pleasure with holy gratitude.

So tonight we climax. But no release.

It’s not my job to be your perfect half, whittled from ancient stories like a fitted lock and key, but to be your cat.

Calming you. Chasing away the bugs and other rats. Batting at you with lowly hiss, hunting, and sharp claws. Kneading you, warming you, guiding you to content within the meter of my purr. We wrestle and cuddle and ride the waves of tension ’till it’s time to ebb completely now. Our time is up.

Art saves me from depression… so do my loving, needy rats.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

Support my writing on Patreon. For one time Donations: Support the Artist or email.
This writing takes time, research, and consideration. It is my art. Thank you.

Hands On Pleasure and Work

I am starting classes in Sexological Bodywork! I’m really excited about this and looking forward to not only improving my personal practice (continuing to work on my own sexual body and health), but I’m looking forward to having more skills and deeper understandings of these subjects to help others with. This step in my education is building toward a very specific project which has been taking shape in my mind over the past 3 years. Enrolling in this self-study course (I can’t afford the interactive certification class yet) is both thrilling and affirming of my goals. If you’re interested in helping me with the certification process, or to take more of such classes, please contact me about the ways you’d like to help.

My end goal is a project which takes place at the intersection of art, sexuality, and identity. I will someday have a space of my own, crafted and laid out in such a way as to make my [audience/client/explorer/visitor] feel welcome, safe, curious, and comfortable enough to connect with me on almost any subject having to do with sensual exploration, gender, identity, behavior, etc. From our initial connection and conversations, combined with the prompts set up within my space, will come individual opportunities to learn about and create new experiences. That’s the basic gist of it. I have the final project almost fully designed and well articulated in proposal form at this point. It’s what I want to be doing as my primary occupation when I’m able to afford the building of said space.

Our bodies are the only thing we really own in this lifetime. I think it’s important to be connected with that primary source of, well, everything… We live alone, we die alone, our experiences are what we have in this lifetime. Our experiences inform us more than almost anything else in life. If people felt free to experience more, as a society we’d understand one another and be curious about one another to a level that’s currently not widely demonstrated.

I love supporting people on their journeys into the self. The ability to say, “I see you, and yes!” is an extraordinary one. I’ve been told no in my life a lot, I’ve been harmed and wronged by the enforcement of unequal treatment and disconnected expectations put upon my assigned sex and this body. To be forced to wear a shirt when half the world does not have to, to be left out of childhood wrestling matches because of the dress I have on or an idea of what I was categorically capable of, to be treated as someone else’s property instead of being approached as an individual with their own will and mind, emotional values, and physical rights while in public with a partner — I want no part in these games nor expectations. I, oldest child and proficient game creator, want to continue to make up the games I play with others, and to accept terms which feel fair and exciting to me. I will build my adult playground. If  you’re a respectful player you’re invited by when I do.

Investors, grants, and other sources of income geared toward an artist building their space, please come to me, thank you. In the meantime I will be learning. I will be practicing on and working with those of you who would like to engage in such explorations. I will be building my vision and spreading this perspective to anyone who is interested in my ideas.

Following, I illustrate some of the external reasons which reinforce these perspectives and my practices. Multitudes of examples pop up every day, here’s a recent one:

Someone on a forum I follow recently asked how to proposition a massage therapist for a happy ending. They noted that they had seen this therapist for a while and had good rapport. They mentioned they knew they could obtain such a service from other massage places around town, but at those places they would be paired with someone who they didn’t have a prior connection with, and that they might not be attracted to. These stipulations are what led this person to fantasize about a happy ending from their regular MT. They mentioned that the therapist they do see had said to them on one occasion that when anyone even brought up sexual touch during a massage her response was to walk out of the room.

My full response to this conversation is nuanced, but to begin with it is this: You don’t ask for a happy ending. Period.

It’s important to keep fantasies about coworkers and non-sexual employees in the realm of fantasy. This means you don’t get to tell your massage therapist about your fantasies or sexual desires. First of all it’s none of her business, and secondly it’s not what she’s being paid to deal with. Your MT faces losing their job, their license, their reputation, and their livelihood when you ask inappropriate questions such as “will you give me a happy ending” while they’re at work. It’s coercive (not to mention illegal) if you offer additional pay for the act, and it’s rude, opportunistic, and taking advantage of the situation not to. Additionally you put (in this case) a woman (an underprivileged person in our society and someone who, by the numbers, gets paid less for her equivalent work to men in the same position) in a rough/uncomfortable/dangerous situation while she’s at her place of employment when you ask such things.

Now, I’m not someone who thinks professional happy endings should be outlawed. But they are. People who have massage therapy schooling, licenses from years of hard work, who’ve signed off on ethics they’ve agreed to professionally uphold, school loans to pay off, and multitudes of fees paid into the system, do not want to be asked to put all of that on the line for your “dick feels”. Respect that.

Respect that.

Respect that.

Respect. That.

Full service sex workers and sensual massage practitioners are the appropriate people to ask about whether or not they’re open to giving you a happy ending as part of your massage. Intimate friends, lovers, and strangers you’re negotiating sexual conduct with are all great examples of people who are also appropriate to ask this question to. If the person you ask doesn’t offer such services or is disinterested, your job is to be gracious, thank them for fielding your question, and apologize if it made them feel uncomfortable. If you wouldn’t ask your barista for a handy because it’s inappropriate to do such a thing, don’t ask anyone else in the non-sexual service industry for one. It’s demeaning. It shows your privilege. It feels like entitlement. It can be triggering. It can effect non-sex workers very negatively personally and professionally. It communicates that you believe your sexual gratification should be considered before someone else’s safety and job security. That’s not correct, nor is it right.

Don’t be that dude. Your dick feels are not the concern of any professional woman (or person) who isn’t a sex worker. Even some sex workers aren’t interested in your dick feels (as in the case of most professional Dominants, strippers, and cam performers). The people who work at the establishments which offer that service are the appropriate (sex) workers to ask about massages which include happy endings.

Do I think your pants feels don’t matter? Not at all! I think pants feels matter very much to everyone who has them (which is a resounding vast majority of people). It’s just this thing here: we are responsible for our own bodies. No one else is. If we play well on the playground of life, other people might be interested in helping us out with our bodies. However, it’s no one’s responsibility to take care of you other than yourself. This is why we are a profoundly social species, we actually need one another, which is a huge incentive to learn how to socialize well with one another in order to get some of our social and physical needs met. However, one person’s needs don’t eclipse another person’s needs. This includes not being approached at work with sexual propositions (unless you work in the field of attending to other people’s sexual gratification).

What we’re talking about here is the importance of boundaries. Professional boundaries, personal boundaries, and sexual boundaries. Boundaries are awesome! They allow us to navigate our needs and the needs of others by defining what’s welcome and what isn’t, in various places, and with different people as we interact with one another out in the world. In the #MeToo era it’s become very clear that certain demographics of people tend to have less understanding (or awareness) about various boundaries which exist to keep other demographics of people safe, sane, healthy, and happy. These are things we’re learning more about these days. These are conversations we’re having publicly in larger and larger circles. These are ways we’re getting to know, understand, and respect one another individually to more profound levels. This is great (though perhaps not particularly easy)!

Here’s where I bring up the really important part of this conversation which is generally left out of the conversation: THIS IS EXACTLY WHY SEX WORKERS MATTER. Full Service Sex Workers (FSSW) are people who have decided to care about your pants feels and dick feels professionally. Full Service Sex Workers are the appropriate people to go to (outside of consensual personal intimacies) when you want a happy ending! There’s an entire industry of people who have decided that pants feels is what they want to dedicate their time, energy, education, and practice to. Go to them. They are a very valuable asset to our society which has demonized pants feels (regardless of the fact that most people have pants feels and would like to have some help in the pants feels department sometimes). Full Service Sex Workers matter. FSSWs work with your fantasies and desires to create a great pants feels experience for you. FSSWs are generally going to put you down gently and professionally when they don’t offer a service which you seek, and perhaps even give you a referral (especially if you’re a respectful and trusted client). FSSWs are the people you seek!

This message needs to be understood by our politicians, by our citizens, by our family members, by our congregations, and by our friends. If you value your pants feels at all (and I know you do), learn about decriminalization of sex work, and support the sexual and sensual health of your pants, our country, and the world.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

Please support my work on Patreon, or for one time: Support the Artist or email me.
~Thank you.

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