Eroticism

[TrinityTrap]

The truly erotic is within. It transcends the senses and resides in the mind.

 

[Coconutty70]

Here is a thought - the history of the world is the history of men's love affair, one bordering on obsession, with the woman's body.

If this is seen not just in terms of desire, but also dominance and ownership, this seems like such responsibility! To bear the weight of feeling responsible for war, indirectly for it may not be her who schemes, or that she is so beautiful as to be an object, or symbol of power, and seen as the glorious prize! This reminds me of invasion, besiegement, greed & bloodshed. To abduct the most beautiful woman in the world would be to capture the greatest treasure! Though I don’t see Helen as passive and powerless… I’m sure she took advantage of her power. But in other fables I can imagine the woman as completely objectified.

But perhaps not all beauty is innocent, wasn’t it Lady Macbeth who questioned manhood to the point of murder? Despite the harm, there’s something erotic about being so completely obsessed with a woman’s beauty as to be manipulated to her will.

Many men will go to any lengths to to satiate the hunger caused by obsession, love or seduction.

 

[softbird]

If this is seen not just in terms of desire, but also dominance and ownership, this seems like such responsibility! To bear the weight of feeling responsible for war, indirectly for it may not be her who schemes, or that she is so beautiful as to be an object, or symbol of power, and seen as the glorious prize! This reminds me of invasion, besiegement, greed & bloodshed. To abduct the most beautiful woman in the world would be to capture the greatest treasure! Though I don’t see Helen as passive and powerless… I’m sure she took advantage of her power. But in other fables I can imagine the woman as completely objectified.

But perhaps not all beauty is innocent, wasn’t it Lady Macbeth who questioned manhood to the point of murder? Despite the harm, there’s something erotic about being so completely obsessed with a woman’s beauty as to be manipulated to her will.

Many men will go to any lengths to to satiate the hunger caused by obsession, love or seduction.

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I've been reading Alison weir's brilliant account of the the war of the Roses, and I had already known that Margarate of Anjou was quite a important figure of that war, but she, it now appears to me, was so instrumental. It was at her behest, married to an ineffectual henry VI, who or may not have been the father of Edward, her son, who was to be, but never was the next kind (having been killed by Richard of Gloucester, later Richard III), and her many men who swarmed around her, doing her bidding. These men wasted countless innocent lives, ruined a whole kingdom for the love of one woman bent on destroying the Yorkists.

I don't know how this responsibility is to be born. But it is a tragic lining, and with each silhouette, or shadow of a woman, i see this tragedy embossed in it.

Perhaps I am romanticising this just a tad. Forgive me all! xx

 

[softbird]

Velvet. That's what I think about, that's how I feel when I am with women, or think of women, when a woman kisses me, or cups my cheek in her palm. I feel the same velvet when a man's hand claims me, my neck, my buttocks, the inside of my thighs.

I think it's not so much the touch that does it, but my own awareness of my body. When I am touched, my mind or consciousness detaches from my body, and I rise above the scene, looking down, and I see, as if watching a play, or as if chancing upon a secret moment between two people, I see myself held, I see my body pursued, desired by the one beholding me, and then I think, velvet!

 

[Coconutty70]

Velvet. That's what I think about, that's how I feel when I am with women, or think of women, when a woman kisses me, or cups my cheek in her palm. I feel the same velvet when a man's hand claims me, my neck, my buttocks, the inside of my thighs.

I think it's not so much the touch that does it, but my own awareness of my body. When I am touched, my mind or consciousness detaches from my body, and I rise above the scene, looking down, and I see, as if watching a play, or as if chancing upon a secret moment between two people, I see myself held, I see my body pursued, desired by the one beholding me, and then I think, velvet!



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Ah, that’s it… I just melted! I succumb; I yield, especially to those words! Uh…

The first image, of the back and hidden face! I just stared at it… it’s about boundaries, isn’t it? When you’ve been hurt and you need to turn away from the approach of another, but the image is so erotic, it still means the desire is there, despite the uncertainty.

I feel like as if I’m the subject of the last image: hand over my face, looking across, motionless but my imagination running like a locomotive.

Silly me for checking in before I start work. Now I am stopped in my tracks… ok, now to use this as inspiration to move and create. **deep breath**

Ok… coffee………

 

[softbird]

I evoke light again, because I never cease to enjoy its many gifts. Light brings the new day, and my body’s place in its vicissitudes, its contours, its manifestations. Light casts visions of simple pleasures, like the shimmering wing of a bird in flight, or the silhouette of a longed for moment of comfort, or joy.

Light is a kiss, an embrace, a curtain unveiled, a knife slicing open my heart to reveal my need, soft, insistent.

 

[bookworm69]

I evoke light again, because I never cease to enjoy its many gifts. Light brings the new day, and my body’s place in its vicissitudes, its contours, its manifestations. Light casts visions of simple pleasures, like the shimmering wing of a bird in flight, or the silhouette of a longed for moment of comfort, or joy.

Light is a kiss, an embrace, a curtain unveiled, a knife slicing open my heart to reveal my need, soft, insistent.

Beautiful images! Are you the model? I especially love the way the light and shadow take so many forms in Image No. 5 (great legs and ass, by the way). Yes, light embraces form.

 

[softbird]

Are you the model?

I hate to disappoint, but no!

 

[Pad_Foot]

I hate to disappoint, but no!

Those .. aren’t you.
I think he’s confused
??

 

[softbird]

Those .. aren’t you.
I think he’s confused
??

What is confusing about those images not being of me? I am confused...

 

[Pad_Foot]

What is confusing about those images not being of me? I am confused...

They are you ??
Then… you should be a model
He’s right !

 

[softbird]

They are you ??
Then… you should be a model
He’s right !

I give up...

 

[Pad_Foot]

I give up...

Your query confused me
I haven’t thought anything you’ve posted was you !

 

[softbird]

Your query confused me
I haven’t thought anything you’ve posted was you !

They're not...But you said...oh never mind! this is so confusing!

 

[Pad_Foot]

They're not...But you said...oh never mind! this is so confusing!

It’s 1:00am
My bad

 

[softbird]

It’s 1:00am
My bad

Go.to.sleeeeeeep!

 

[ho_hum_drum]

I evoke light again, because I never cease to enjoy its many gifts. Light brings the new day, and my body’s place in its vicissitudes, its contours, its manifestations. Light casts visions of simple pleasures, like the shimmering wing of a bird in flight, or the silhouette of a longed for moment of comfort, or joy.

Light is a kiss, an embrace, a curtain unveiled, a knife slicing open my heart to reveal my need, soft, insistent.Is there a relationship between “class” and eroticism?

So, I think there is a difference between Eroticism and pure sexuality. While the sexual can also be erotic, the erotic is often not necessarily sexual.
George Battaile said once that eroticism as thriving when it breaks prohibitions, goes beyond the physical, into something else, something we can’t express but feel. Perhaps, he is referring to o something similar to what the Romantics called the sublime.

So this thread is about the erotic, moving away from the sexual to something being it, something more sublime.

Hopefully we can work out what eroticism actually is.

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Hi! Well.. I’ll have a go.
I think the “erotic” combines ideas, feelings, experiences, memories within an implied sexual context to create an irrepressible, spontaneous, powerful and positive feeling in one’s being that life is good and worth living. I guess sometimes there’s feelings of longing and hope, perhaps even envy, in there as well, well, definitely for me…, not in a bad way, just kind of bitter sweet..
Of course, all of these things are very subjective…
Thanks for a good thread.

 

[Coconutty70]

I evoke light again, because I never cease to enjoy its many gifts. Light brings the new day, and my body’s place in its vicissitudes, its contours, its manifestations. Light casts visions of simple pleasures, like the shimmering wing of a bird in flight, or the silhouette of a longed for moment of comfort, or joy.

Light is a kiss, an embrace, a curtain unveiled, a knife slicing open my heart to reveal my need, soft, insistent.

I’ve got a habit of gasping on this thread! Beautiful, alluring but this time soft at the same time. These are much gentler than many of the other images! The soft light shining through the material is suggestive but the contrast is less jarring, not seeking power, control or agenda. This fifth picture is the odd one out, it’s saying “check this out!” like I’ve been set up to come across her when I walk in and see her standing there. I imagine her turning around with a knowing smile which says, “Feast your eyes on these shapes!”.

The facial expression in the third pic is softer and more in the present moment, rather than seeking to provoke a reaction (I think often it’s the artist’s desire to control the future, like an anxiety, wanting the viewer to like the work). These other photos are just… there, like being in the room. They don’t portray the other, they portray the us.

You usually select the tall, slender model… they’re your type! So is this different? I can see how it looks like the third picture is the librarian. And I thought she had quietly been here before. If i were an archetype, I would be falling into my old ways of being the seeker. Haha. I love the confusion… the ambiguity is erotic after all!

 

[softbird]

Does anyone see the images I posted in my last post? I don’t see them? Is that just me?

 

[Coconutty70]

Does anyone see the images I posted in my last post? I don’t see them? Is that just me?

They’ve disappeared for me

 

[peekingone]

Velvet. That's what I think about, that's how I feel when I am with women, or think of women, when a woman kisses me, or cups my cheek in her palm. I feel the same velvet when a man's hand claims me, my neck, my buttocks, the inside of my thighs.

I think it's not so much the touch that does it, but my own awareness of my body. When I am touched, my mind or consciousness detaches from my body, and I rise above the scene, looking down, and I see, as if watching a play, or as if chancing upon a secret moment between two people, I see myself held, I see my body pursued, desired by the one beholding me, and then I think, velvet!



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This group of photos are beautiful. First four are amazing.

 

[Coconutty70]

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.


(George Rouy)

 

[bookworm69]

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. Perhaps she knows; perhaps she is pretending not to. Perhaps she is moist from the idea of being seen. 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 you were meant to see it!

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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)

@Coconutty70 …very sensual images.

 

[softbird]

Rouy's work always fills me with some kind of trance. I don;t understand his work, but I am also attracted to it. And I think this incomprehension itself is erotic, because isn't that what sparks the exquisite thrill of being in a moment so divorced from everything, as if comprehending something so incomprehensible, one is also held in its grasp.

It is the way someone's eyes, through the window as they pass, chance upon my naked form, or as I am clasping the straps of my bra behind my back, or in front (which I prefer), or if I am applying lipstick and I see in the reflection of my tiny mirror a man stealing a few seconds of me. In these moments, what they take is a piece of me, nameless, I am am pure Woman, pure incomprehension to them.

Thank you for sharing, @Coconutty70 x

 

[Saltybabe06]

Borders are beautiful, they are liminal.. there, we find the most erotic of things.. in Firenze once, I was in the train station waiting for the train to take me to Sienna. The announcements on the platform were blaring words, so beautiful, because they meant something, but my Italian is, at best, nil! And so, like a dreamer, I imagined my Italian lover, imagined, whispering words to me over the loudspeaker, ah! The romantic tones of train announcements!

But people began to move, run, the platform suddenly a flurry of bodies, and so I joined them, ran through the tunnel, following this wave. Old nuns sped past me, how fast these women could run!

And I remember thinking these words are magical, and ai felt myself running as in a dream.

We found the train, and I crashed into a seat, breathless, not knowing if I had followed these people to the wrong train. Should I have stayed at the platform. For a full hour I was in liminal space. Unknowing. And then my Italian lover said the word over the carriage speaker, Sienna, and I felt like I had come home!

That's some heavy shit wow!