The Malezine – Untitled (2016)

The longest bridge in Iceland, Skeiðarárbrú, was shut down permanently several weeks back.

Built in the mid-to-late 70s, it was the final section of the Ring Road to be completed.

It bridges the Morsá–a river formed from glacial run-off and melt. The flow has ebbed and river is perhaps a generous term–it’s really more of a wide-ish rapidly running stream these days.

Iceland has a reputation as the land of fire and ice due to all the indigenous glaciers and volcanoes. The closing of the bridge stayed with me because the topic was introduced while discussing impermanence.

See: the area between Kirkjubæjarklaustur and Skaftafell will almost certain be completely washed away during the next major eruption of any of the volcanoes in that area.

I think part of why it stuck with me is that I’ve not been in a very good place mental health-wise. I’ve spent a lot of time pondering tumult, upheaval and trauma as endings. But as the saccharin pop sentiment notes (correctly, it should be added): every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.

I’m not sure the above is any kind of masterpiece. (I’m typically not all that impressed with photo montage–my beloved Yves Klein, notwithstanding.) But, despite the ubiquity of ejaculation as a signifier of completion in pornography, I’m always felt that it has potential as the subject for fine art work.

In order to achieve that end, however, you have to recontextualize it so that it ceases to represent only an ending.

The above freezes the moment of propulsive ejaculatory force in perpetuity–a volcano forever frozen mid-eruption.

I’ve always said that if I ever shoot a hetero porn scene, I’d want the boy to come within the first minute of the scene–prematurely as it were and then let the scene demonstrate how sex in the real world is about using your words to communicate wants and needs and to negotiate expectations, disappointments, frustrations as well as passions, pleasures and desires.