Eroticism

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.

Women are such vulnerable/powerful beings. On one hand, they so often suffer at the hands of their lovers, but when the relationship is healthy, to be able to feel enpowered and sexually powerful (merely) by wearing by a corset or lingerie, what an intoxicating sense that must be. As a man, I don't think I have ever felt anything like that simply because of something I wear.

Corsets provide structure, form, very practical. It's also a weapon for seduction, and when finally seduced, it allows intimacy when she finally lets you take it off. It's the Swiss army knife of clothes. And maybe the first lingerie you wear outside. I love a corset on a woman.

Hate the history of corsets, love the corset in the modern.
 
When the fishermen cast their nets, they cast them with hope, with ardour, with the promise of what is to come, but it also a penance, and also a submission, a submission to the forces that keep the world moving.

Such is the feelings and sensations I get when I cast my eyes on women who walk past me in fishnets.. How...how every intoxicating! How completely captivating!

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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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Very classy 😁
 
Trigger warning, this is different for a moment. Maybe it doesn’t belong here… but Softbird talks of Wabi-sabi and I am a great believer in Kintsugi as a joyful aesthetic.

I invite you to see the joyous images of women who have survived breast cancer, and posed as models for The Grace Project.

https://the-grace-project.org/

ā€œThe Grace Project is an empowering photographic project by fine art photographer Charise Isis that captures the courage beauty and grace of those who have had mastectomy surgery as a result of breast cancer.

The very act of standing in front of a camera revealing their scars, allows each of her subjects a transformative experience, giving them permission to step into self acceptance and the opportunity to share the story of the scars that have been written on their body.

The portraits are inspired by Hellenistic goddess sculptures that have survived the trauma of history, such as the Venus de Milo. Although broken, these cracked and scarred relics are celebrated as beautiful, their brokenness revealing the delicate nature of life, and endurance, and the inherent beauty that still radiates
.ā€

This is something that holds some personal meaning. The women in these photographs are uniquely beautiful. Sometimes breathtaking.
I bow my head in humility.
 
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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’m so happy for you. I had a hive for two years. It was difficult in Ireland because there were sometimes very few days for the bees to go foraging, but they always somehow managed to find enough. She was a fierce queen (as are many irish women! In history and in modern life) and her children had her genes. I hope your queen is more gentle to hold.
 
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I've finally managed to resurface, and I will resume posting...so if you're wondering (probably not!), then I haven't really left. I've just been drowning in all kinds of things...some lovely and sweet, some not quite, but such is the way of the world!
 
I've missed you darlings, but I bring mixed moments today, moments of reflection, solitude, moments of ethereality, and moments of heightened passion. Moments where glimpses are stolen, or even given to the eye that thinks its stealing, because today I brim with a kind of longing for the world, a longing that I cannot explain, such longing that makes me shudder - it is not the longing for sex or physical lust, but my heart is open today, and I feel so immortal, so ecstatic. Ask me to explain, and you will only get a smile and a soft shrug. I cannot explain it.
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I've missed you darlings, but I bring mixed moments today, moments of reflection, solitude, moments of ethereality, and moments of heightened passion. Moments where glimpses are stolen, or even given to the eye that thinks its stealing, because today I brim with a kind of longing for the world, a longing that I cannot explain, such longing that makes me shudder - it is not the longing for sex or physical lust, but my heart is open today, and I feel so immortal, so ecstatic. Ask me to explain, and you will only get a smile and a soft shrug. I cannot explain it.
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As always so many beautiful images of shadow and light, of form and of motion captured… feminine in its understated, yet powerful presence.

My favorite is No. 5, highlighting the woman’s broad, naked back … three flowers atop of tight, form-fitting skirt. Beautiful and so sensual. ā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļø
 
I must have woken up and found myself in heaven. For this surely must be the most alluring thread in the whole of Lit. Funnily, it is also the thread that many of the regular visitors to Lit who are quick to post things in threads that are overtly sexual rarely visit. It's a shame. There is a singular pleasure in the tormet of eroticism
 
Spaces, architecture has its own eroticism - spaces are like churches of a different religion, a spirituality borne of brick and mortar and imagination. Often, without realising it, we drown in such spaces, their vastness engulfing us, till we become mere features of a bigger artwork, elements of a canvas. Isn't this also quite an erotic moment, the thought that we are children of a vaster cosmos, and that when we meet, come face to face, it is only by accident.

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