Eroticism

[softbird]

That's some heavy shit wow!

At the time it was...now i think about it with some embarrassment!

 

[Saltybabe06]

At the time it was...now i think about it with some embarrassment!

Good shit way above my head!

 

[ho_hum_drum]

I like to catch glimpses of people. I think this idea of seeing a part of someone, or a person in a space, that you wouldn’t normally be invited to see is very erotic.

You may briefly catch a beautiful glimpse of a beloved friend in the mirror as they step out of the shower, and admire the curve of her waist, and the shape of the side of her breast.

Maybe capture a snapshot of the inner thigh of your wife’s best friend as she crosses her legs opposite you; capturing the delicious curvature of her labia, spilling out of the side of her satin. Perhaps she knows; perhaps she is pretending not to. Perhaps she is moist from the idea of being seen. If you knew the answer, she might let you touch her, to see for yourself, when nobody else is looking.

Catching a glimpse of a scene through a bedroom window as you pass. Will you give yourself permission to go back and look again, or should you carry on and savour the deliciousness of that moment? It’s possible that fate designed the moment so that you should see it only fleetingly!

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It may have been like a theatrical scene, designed to allow your wandering eye to catch it momentarily! And now it is up to your imagination to describe the rest of the narrative to you, as you lie awake, tenderly reminding your body of the scenario that was captured during the day’s journeys.

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(George Rouy)

I concur! I live with a constant observing eye, always seeking the momentary, the fleeting revelation of something erotic or even just beautiful, sexy, lascivious. I do worry somewhat that this makes me a creep, a dirty “old(er)” man and I do my best to try and be very discreet about it but I would guess I have voyeuristic tendencies! It’s an undeniable drive and I consider it a fundamental joy of life.
P.S. I know nothing about art…

 

[softbird]

What is it about hats worn well? What do you see when you see a hat, adorned thoughtfully, purposefully? What do these images say to you, if they could speak?

is it merely that they hide, or serve as a contrast? What does it add? If the erotic is of the mind, and if the erotic is found in the gap between knowing and not knowing, where does the hat come in?

 

[wldadvfun]

softbird,

love this. the pictures are beautiful, your words are like a lover's tongue, lithe, slippery, sexual, wanting, giving.
please don't stop.

 

[softbird]

You usually select the tall, slender model… they’re your type! So is this different?

Perhaps I do...instinctively reach for the statuesque. But I don;t think beauty or eroticism lies purely in the statuesque. I think it is Affect, rather effect that harbours eroticism - emotion, sensation, perception. Wouldn't you say so? Surely, you know me enough to know by now, that I see beauty in almost everything!

Today, was one of the first warm days we've had in Sydney. I keep a hive of bees in my back garden, and during winter, i was afraid that my hibernating bees had died - the australian natives hibernate and feed off their stores to keep warm. But today, they clambered out and filled the air with their soft black stingless bodies, and I almost cried for joy!

 

[softbird]

softbird,

love this. the pictures are beautiful, your words are like a lover's tongue, lithe, slippery, sexual, wanting, giving.
please don't stop.

"lover's tongue" now, isn't that the most erotic image!!

 

[bookworm69]

What is it about hats worn well? What do you see when you see a hat, adorned thoughtfully, purposefully? What do these images say to you, if they could speak?

is it merely that they hide, or serve as a contrast? What does it add? If the erotic is of the mind, and if the erotic is found in the gap between knowing and not knowing, where does the hat come in?

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Love your images of hats. If chosen well, hats enhance a woman’s image by complimenting or by contrasting. They are an excellent framing device. The best ones say, “look or don’t look … I am unique, independent and strong.”

 

[softbird]

Love your images of hats. If chosen well, hats enhance a woman’s image by complimenting or by contrasting. They are an excellent framing device. The best ones say, “look or don’t look … I am unique, independent and strong.”

The icing on the cake? The cherry on top? Or the snow caps on distant mountains?

 

[bookworm69]

The icing on the cake? The cherry on top? Or the snow caps on distant mountains?

Yes. All of the above.

 

[softbird]

In some other secret cloister, a voice speaks to me about the Japanese - Wabi sabi, the beauty of imperfection. There is such grace in imperfection.

But I aslo see something else in the Japanese psyche - Ichigo-ichié - the notion that this moment, this very moment as you read my words, as you feel the sensations that you feel, will never be again. This is the moment that is truly alive, and it will be succeeded by other moments - one time, one meeting. There is so much invested in that moment, a meeting of minds, souls, sensations that lives on its own by its own merit.

Then there is ma - the space between things that announces emptiness, but which also announces the things themselves. It is the moment (Ichigo ichié) when your finger pauses before touching my cheek, that space between your finger's movement, and its contact with my flesh - ma - and knowing that these things are no longer the minute the act is done - Mono no aware - these things make the Japanese psyche the most erotic of mindscapes. The moments matter, the moment between my writing, and your eyes as they read, this connection, this fleeting coming together. These are beautiful things, my darlings.

 

[bookworm69]

Perhaps I do...instinctively reach for the statuesque. But I don;t think beauty or eroticism lies purely in the statuesque. I think it is Affect, rather effect that harbours eroticism - emotion, sensation, perception. Wouldn't you say so? Surely, you know me enough to know by now, that I see beauty in almost everything!

Today, was one of the first warm days we've had in Sydney. I keep a hive of bees in my back garden, and during winter, i was afraid that my hibernating bees had died - the australian natives hibernate and feed off their stores to keep warm. But today, they clambered out and filled the air with their soft black stingless bodies, and I almost cried for joy!

I don’t see the women in your images as necessarily “statuesque” … as much as projecting an energy of eroticism, reflecting the elements that you describe above. And beauty IS in everything.

 

[Cabeza]

In some other secret cloister, a voice speaks to me about the Japanese - Wabi sabi, the beauty of imperfection. There is such grace in imperfection.

But I aslo see something else in the Japanese psyche - Ichigo-ichié - the notion that this moment, this very moment as you read my words, as you feel the sensations that you feel, will never be again. This is the moment that is truly alive, and it will be succeeded by other moments - one time, one meeting. There is so much invested in that moment, a meeting of minds, souls, sensations that lives on its own by its own merit.

Then there is ma - the space between things that announces emptiness, but which also announces the things themselves. It is the moment (Ichigo ichié) when your finger pauses before touching my cheek, that space between your finger's movement, and its contact with my flesh - ma - and knowing that these things are no longer the minute the act is done - Mono no aware - these things make the Japanese psyche the most erotic of mindscapes. The moments matter, the moment between my writing, and your eyes as they read, this connection, this fleeting coming together. These are beautiful things, my darlings.
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Amazing images

 

[CaptCharles]

See how she blends with light into the world around her. See how she eludes capture, eludes our comprehension. And yet, she is real, real, in the immediacy of our apprehension. How often do we miss the erotic present, and we only get the traces of their having been there?

The erotic never stays, it is like apparitions that plague the soul by their ephemeral nature.

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I am in awe. You have truly captured an erotic art form all in itself, though the written expression of your mind.

 

[softbird]

I am in awe. You have truly captured an erotic art form all in itself, though the written expression of your mind.

You’re too kind!

 

[jackburns]

Eroticism has a lot of definitions. Honing in on the idea that eroticism is primarily a mental sensation has always been the path that works for me. It may have primal elements but it's more than primal. I equate eroticism to modal jazz; instead of building on a chord progression, the base is on scales. The result is music you feel, instead of music you hear.

 

[softbird]

Let us stay with the Japanese mind a little more. And perhaps cast our minds back to an earlier thought about bodies as canvases. The most erotic thing a person could do is to write on my body, verses, or draw images on me, paint me, or use me as parchment to write prayers...When my body becomes the site of thought, or expression, then I become more than me, more than woman, I become archival, historical. I become possessed but also possessing something.

The ancient Shintoists believed, the story goes, that the gods wrote our names in the space between our shoulder blades, our true names, that only the gods, the kami, knew. This way, the kami would know you when your time came to enter the spirit world.

 

[peekingone]

What is it about hats worn well? What do you see when you see a hat, adorned thoughtfully, purposefully? What do these images say to you, if they could speak?

is it merely that they hide, or serve as a contrast? What does it add? If the erotic is of the mind, and if the erotic is found in the gap between knowing and not knowing, where does the hat come in?

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To me it is elegant, confidence and look at me in a very good way. These are great.

 

[softbird]

I often find myself melting when my eyes catch a soft fluttering of a leaf in the slight breeze, or the hems of dresses that dance and sway to the wearer's movement, or the wind's caress, or the ruffling feathers of a perched bird as the wind sends kisses, or the moment, the moment when a wisp of her hair breaks from the rest and falls over her eyes, her cheeks.

Such wispy gems make my heart melt, and my heart hurts, hurts from such criminal beauty.

 

[sunset_dreaming]

Your third image personifies that criminal beauty. Her facial expression is teetering on the edge of whimsy and mischievousness

 

[softbird]

Your third image personifies that criminal beauty. Her facial expression is teetering on the edge of whimsy and mischievousness

And do you see that tiny wisp of hair cutting across her nose? I die each time..

 

[sunset_dreaming]

And do you see that tiny wisp of hair cutting across her nose? I die each time..

Adorable. My mind is gravitating toward mischievous more than whimsical. Almost like she has something she wants to tell you yet savours your anticipation in needing to hear it….

 

[32aaPixie]

https://cdni.pornpics.com/1280/7/691/11469449/11469449_032_a603.jpg

 

[softbird]

I have a love hate relationship with corsets. On one hand, I find it repulsive to think of the women and their broken ribs , their fainting spells that rendered them completely hostage to male desire, male dominance.

But, I wear them, and suddenly I am cowed by its tight embrace, that fabric, and its drawstrings that say to me, "I am I alone can give you breath." How often have I become the docile little thing, and how often have I enjoyed this role, the constant craving.

Siri von Hurstvedt wrote a piece called "Eight days in a Corset." And while I read this with admiration, her impressions did not strike with me. Still, I find myself in a strange situation in wishing for the ties that bind, for the sorcery of corsets, for corsetry.
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[ho_hum_drum]

I have a love hate relationship with corsets. On one hand, I find it repulsive to think of the women and their broken ribs , their fainting spells that rendered them completely hostage to male desire, male dominance.

But, I wear them, and suddenly I am cowed by its tight embrace, that fabric, and its drawstrings that say to me, "I am I alone can give you breath." How often have I become the docile little thing, and how often have I enjoyed this role, the constant craving.

Siri von Hurstvedt wrote a piece called "Eight days in a Corset." And while I read this with admiration, her impressions did not strike with me. Still, I find myself in a strange situation in wishing for the ties that bind, for the sorcery of corsets, for corsetry.
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Nothing wrong with being “hostage” to male or female desire and dominance!
We’re all “grown ups” and know what we’re doing.
We all understand what provokes and what doesn’t and I err on the side of assuming intelligence in others.
I do seem to very often find this narrative being pedalled, sometimes rather subtly, that women are just soooo innocent and naive, to which, I think…, bolloks!
Minor rant over!
Beautiful pictures…