Tag: ejaculation

topoftheshaft:

Time Seems Like a Blur When You Cum

Bill in Exile – Load Dump (2010)

Let’s consider the previous poster’s comment because I think it’s actually insightful af.

It’s impossible to describe the taste of coffee to someone who has never had it. But you don’t try to describe it, you brew a cup and say: taste this, it’s warm and delicious. (Or, if you’re me and can’t stand warm beverages, you break out the Chameleon Cold Brew.)

It’s interesting: before I ever used marijuana, a number of people had explained to me what it was to be stoned. I remember being like uh, wait, I don’t get it.

After I smoked up, I totally got it. There’s no way to describe it. It’s like the taste of coffee–once you’ve had it, you’ll never forget what it tastes like. But you also don’t ever remember not knowing what it tastes like.

Literacy is probably a better example. Once you learn to read you know–practically–that at a certain point you didn’t know how; but the knowing overrides the memory of not knowing. (Like I’m a bit precocious in that I remember very specific things from as young as six months. So I can remember seeing signs before I was able to read and being able to read them in my recollection even though I couldn’t have read them at the time.)

Again, that only works ex post facto. You sort of have to walk to the edge and jump.

Consider this scenario: you’re sitting in your room and suddenly the brightest red cardinal darts in through the window and lands on the back of a chair. The incongruity is stunning to you and the surprise of it shakes your brain out of it’s perpetual classifying and organizing: this is inside, this is outside; me vs. not me, when do I need to leave to meet Su for dinner, etc. But in that moment of unplanned surprise, there is the briefest of moments where you are too surprised to label or otherwise interpret the scene.

And when you tell people about it your explanation will last ten times longer than the moment did. Our eyes see and even though we can’t see the act of our eyes seeing, that is how our brain processes it–we see routinely as if through a mirror darkly. But in moments of self-transcendence it’s like the experience of needing glasses and never having had them and then when you put them on you’re just like OMFG at all the details you’ve been missing.

Interestingly, virtually every account I’m familiar with as far as mystical/self-transcendent experience involves the distension of time. You can see 100 things for every one you’d normally notice and because your brain is too shocked to filter any of it, it just all comes in and you absorb it.

So the person who posted this image is actually very much on point with their observation. Orgasm does share a number of points of commonality with transcendent experience in my… er, experience. And if I’m not mistaken that’s why church and state are so down on drugs and an openness to sexual expression–when you realize the kingdom’s keys are within your grasp why would you give the first half a fuck about an institutional intercessor?

Sebastián Gherrë – Firework cum (2016)

Revisiting the first instance of Gherrë’s work I posted, I realize I equivocated a bit too much.

Further encounters with his work have caused me to warm to his so-blunt you can only call it heavy-handed and acontextual style.

I’m not usually a fan of the throw everything at the wall and see what sticks approach. (My nemesis when I was a photography MFA student had exactly such an approach–in the interest of full disclosure, she’s one of two people in a class of 17 that is paying her bills with her creative endeavors.) But with Gherrë there’s a sense of both openness to experimentation that is damn near playful more often than not wed to a commitment to an unflinching and omnivorous eye.

It’s a little too pat to compare his work to someone like Ren Hang–an artist whose is equally out and who works with similar prolific profusion. (In fact, lately I find myself rather put off by what I feel are Hang’s tendency to be casually shallow, mean-spirited and cruel in his work.)

But it is an interesting comparison, in so far as Gherrë‘s photos show ever sign of becoming less focused on provocation and more focused the inherent provocation in moments presented without context and therefore rely upon success or failure with what the convey about immediacy.

The above print is actually enormously clever in it’s composition. The viewers eye follows the boys white inner right thigh down into the frame at a diagonal. A lesser talent would’ve sought a bilateral top-to-bottom symmetry, but they inner left leg juts off at a different angle, pulling the dick in hand off a rigid top-to-bottom mid-line. (The frame is bottom heavy, but the angle of the blanket manages to tie everything together so that it doesn’t feel unbalanced.)

There’s also the way the slight curve of the boys erection and the way it forms a sort of ever so subtle s curve from the base of the cock through the spurting line of ejaculate–allowing for one of those serendipitous moments where things line up almost magically and the lead semen globule floats perfectly aligned with the boy’s suprasternal notch.

And honestly, this is the closest I’ve seen to a photo I’ve been trying to make for almost a decade now.

[↑] Source unknown – Title Unknown (201X); [↓] Source unknown – Title Unknown (201X)

As much as I’m utterly fascinated by depictions of ejaculation, I’m really super not into facials.

I’ve already written about this once before–and while it was from way back when I was a baby blogger: my opinion hasn’t really changed.

These two posts are not really an exception that proves the rule so much as a proof of concept that whether or not I dig facials, they can be depicted in at least a somewhat artful fashion.

In the top .gif there’s a focus on palate–namely, a monochromatic scale from a pale through peach skin-tone, to the shadowed masturbating hand to the burnt umber background. (I do worry here because it looks like the stud probably jizzed in the woman’s eye–and seriously getting semen in your eye is an awful experience.)

In the lower .gif, the staging from left to right, uses the natural motion of the eye’s tendency to instinctive scan left to right actually adds to the dynamism of the trajectory. I love that her hands are covering his and that she appears rapturously in the moment.

I also really love how if you look in the background you can see his hand open and pull back, as if he’s a magician conjuring a magic trick.

mou5elee – Untitled (2015)

Drawing/illustration is not a field where I have any sort of expertise.

About all I know is the stuff that crossing my Tumblr dashboard and that’s control by the interests and aesthetics of the blogs I follow.

Thus, it’s probably pretentious and definitely solipsistic for me to assert that most of the illustration work I see these days shows one of two characteristics–the sort of clean, minimal look that by this point has been completely co-opted by the tech sector (Apple, web dev standards, etc.) or this sort of Schiele-cum-Picasso styling.

I really like the above because based upon my limited understanding of trends and techniques in illustration, the way this is shaded actually reminds me of woodcuts.

Apollonia Saintclar – L’archipel du plaisir [Liquid joy II] (2016)

During my undergrad stint, I flirted with layout and design..

There was something heady about pre-CS Photoshop image manipulation that appealed to me. I could take existing pictures and turn them into reasonably compelling posters for campus events.

I called what I did graphic design. And for the most part, I never said it loud enough or in the company of anyone who was a legit graphic designer until after I graduated.

But as I came into contact with folks who paid their bills doing design related stuff. I quickly learned that being able to layout out a flyer was only a fraction of what graphic design entailed.

Pros were always obsessed with the pedigree of typefaces, serifs vs sans serifs, integration of content and form.

Generally, I found such people intolerable. The work they made was thoroughly accomplished in a utilitarian sense but lacked passion and flair. (It would take me a full five years to realize that although I wasn’t really interested in graphic design, I am very interested in the underlying notions of UX/UI in regards to design.)

Anyway, I mention all that because two terms that design folks toss around a lot are ‘minimal’ and ‘clean lines’. And those are two terms I would use to describe Saintclar’s work.

As far as terminology goes: ‘minimal’ with ‘clean lines’ might as well be pointless in their ubiquity. However, given a visual context, they can be useful when it comes to orientation.

For example: Saintclar’s work always reminds me of Dürer. But it’s an association in negative–by that I mean, although Dürer’s work is maximal, he uses space and line in a very similar fashion to Saintclar.

Yet, what I also appreciate about Saintclar is that the artist uses lines in a surprisingly varied manner. They can imply shape, give form to negative space or–as above–emphasize dimenstionality.

What’s more: the framing is actually ingenious. A lesser artist would’ve inched the frame back enough to include the full swath of the messy on the floor. By allowing that to trail out of frame, the viewer is given a sense of continuity of space beyond the frame edge. Combined with the fact that the perspective is render in such a way so that vanishing point of the image is hidden behind the woman’s hand, it presents an image that is both erotically charged and artfully composed. (This is definitely not some #skinnyframebullshit due to its internally consistent use of composition and the fact that it is mindful of the fact that the viewer’s eye is meant to wander up and down instead of side to side.)

Source: apolloniasaintclair