Friday 21 May 2010

The Sweetest Moment

It is the sweetest moment. A moment like that can be complete. From then on it is life, life with its commitments, loyalties, determination and struggle. But a moment, a moment that covers no distance in time, have no space, can be true.


Does he have to be handsome? I don't think he has. He has to be possible, the animal has to be there, lurking.


My friend brought him and told me who he was, where he came from, whom he knew and what he did. He turned his eyes at me and looked at me.


This was what he did. He looked at me and he saw me. He saw me but not in the sense when the Goddess or her angels look into your soul and see all of you. He was no magician, he couldn't know me, couldn't see more than what was there.


He saw me in the way a baby sees a bright shining thing and wants it, not because they know what it is, but because it shines.


He looked me in the eyes and he saw me, selfishly. His eyes told me that he wanted me. They told me he wanted to rule me, do things to me, take me and have me for himself.


I looked back. I looked into his eyes and saw what he wanted. And in that moment, the sweetest of moments, he could have me.


*


This land is mine but I’ll let you rule
I let you navigate and demand
Just as long as you know…this land is mine


('This Land is Mine', Dido Armstrong, 2003)



Friday 14 May 2010

Frank Frazetta, 1928 – 2010


The Grand Old Master is dead. It is sad, indeed.


I have always been fascinated by the different, the exotic. I read everything I could find about old and forgotten civilisations, about the Aztecs, The Egyptians, Sumerians, Ancient China and that sort of thing. There is a very special thrill I feel when I come across something that awakens this fascination, this sense of awe.


Good Fantasy can do that. (Notice, I use Fantasy with a capital F, meaning the genre (or genres) in art and writing and film.) A good Fantasy story, or picture, evokes that kind of excitement. I don't mind the heroes, the monsters, the beautiful damsels in distress, I love it. But one thing that really gets me hooked is if I get that thrill of the exotic and different.


There is so much mainstream Fantasy that has lost it, that only repeats what has gone before, that are repetitions of old themes. It is nice, beautiful and even exciting at times but it never gives that impression of peeking through to another world.


The undisputed master of Fantasy art was, in my opinion, Frank Frazetta. He had that ability to transport you to strange places, primeval forests or enchanted lands. His heroes weren't necessarily the strongest and his damsels not always the most beautiful but he always had a unique style that gave me that sense of awe.


I guess that is why his style was so widely copied. Some did it through and through, while others picked out details, some did it well others not so well.


Modern Fantasy art owes a lot to Pre-Raphaelites and Symbolists, and, like some of those styles, it is not accepted as Art, generally, but seen as illustrations and poster art. I truly believe there is a lot of powerful imagery and symbols in commercial art, in illustrations and that sort of thing. It is not deliberately put there as in High Art but it is there, all the same, and sometimes in a very rough and unpolished way.


I will stop this rant and just say that it is sad that the one true Master of Fantasy Art has left us.


(Frank Frazetta, 9/2 1928 – 10/5 2010)



Wednesday 5 May 2010

What is it About?

I got some really nice and interesting comments on my last blogpost, In Denial?. My initial though with that post was to talk about and perhaps confess to a kind of being short sighted and not really accepting the obvious, that is, that fantasies are sexual (although they are much more than that). The comments, however, raised another issue and that has to do with guilt.


Despite the header for this post, I am not trying to explain what this thing is all about. No, just talk a little about it and perhaps start a discussion with you, Dear Readers.


Since I am not participating in any kind of real life activities concerned with BDSM, Spanking or D/s or that sort of thing (let's call it Kink, just to have a good word for it) I can only talk about what happens in my own mind when I think and fantasise about these things.


I do believe that even if you really are into it, really live it, and experience all of the physical sensations that go with it, there is a lot of fantasising going on, that many real and enjoyable floggings are, a kind of, living out of fantasies. What I am trying to say is that the mind thing is central, even for those of you live it in your real lives. Please, tell me if I am wrong or misunderstand things, which I am bound to do.


For me fantasies are a lot about consent and mutuality. But, and this is the brilliant thing with stories and fantasies, sometimes the consent is outside the story. I can let myself be enslaved in a fantasy, I can let it happen against my own will and I can be subject to, what is really, abuse. Even of the worst kind. My consent is outside the scene that is played out in my head or in my story. I am in full control even if I am helpless in the story.


Although I don't write much about the 'scene' I do love stories where there is consent, stories about love that contains submission and control. In these stories the consent is inside the story. And so is the trust. With the first kind there is no trust, rather the opposite, the other kind is based on it, the very essence of it. Those are really stories about love and friendship and being accepted for who you are with your mind, twisted and warped, as you may feel it is, at times.


To return to the issue of guilt, I think it is more prominent in the first kind of stories, the one that depict some kind of abuse, those where you are raped or enslaved or forced to do things. A story makes things more real, makes it seem as if it has happened in real life, you begin to think of the events and what it looks like, what it smells like and how it feels. I think the guilt is made more more prominent by this almost reality that is in fantasies and stories. How can you desire to be hurt or hurt someone, especially someone or by someone you love or loves you? Why do I find this thought of humiliation so delightful? That sort of thing.


For me there is guilt in the others as well; facing up to the fact that I have these thoughts, is hard, and the thought of living them with someone who wants the same is compelling but frightening. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I don't, that I do prioritise love in the form I have encountered it and the fact that I think my dreams and fantasies would shatter if faced with too much reality. This is really besides the point, only to show how I feel about it.


So, to get back to your comments. Lea talks about the contrast between the desire and the form, that reminds her of bad things, abuse and violence and that sort of thing. I think that is really why I feel guilty too, that it I don't want to promote abuse while I find it immensely exciting to be abused in my fantasies.


Lily said something which I found very beautiful, 'the “beauty” inherent within the acts which involve consent and trust'. For me this opens up a new vista of thoughts, thoughts that have to do with what I truly believe fantasies and my writing are about, a longing for trust and love, the kind that goes to the core of your being. It is too much to go deeper into here and I admit that this paragraph may appear a little cryptic but I do hope I may come back to this later, sometime.


Z said something which I liked, that it is because Kink is immoral that we enjoy it. I agree to a certain point, I do think it is part of the appeal although other emotions are involved as well. There is absolutely something of the joy of breaking the rules, doing what is not allowed there.


I honestly think fantasies about Kink are fantasies about very basic human needs, and that trust is not just a prerequisite for indulging in Kinky activities but really a fundamental driving force behind them. It is the sense of being safe that is at the core of it. But to end this with a disclaimer, this is how I feel about it and I really don't want to try to explain away anyone's experience or take on it, I really don't. I invite you to give your view on these matters and I hope I will come back to it and elaborate on it.