FWIW: the self-portrait I submitted to this weeks ‘art’ themed nymphoninjas submission Sunday was accepted.

(Extra special thanks to sporeprint for not being at all bothered when I asked him about helping me edit less than 24 hours before I needed the finished product and managing to remain effortlessly patient with my damned demanding ass during the editing process.)


Wonderlust Photoworks (Editing courtesy of Alveoli Photography) – Desolate Elements II (2014)

There’s a zen proverb that runs somewhere along the lines of comparing yourself to someone else is like sticking your head in a bucket of glue.

I constantly offer this advice to others; but rarely heed it myself.

The last two years have been very difficult for me. Trauma, loss and angst compounded by unemployment and persistent health problems. During this time, creativity—the only thing in my life that has presented consistent refuge—has been limited to thinking the work I’m trying to make doesn’t matter. I get stuck in this self-defeating-Orson-Welles-made-Citizen-Kane-at-26/Arundathi-Roy-wrote-The-God-of-Small-Things-at-28-what-have-I-done-of-any-consequence loop.

I’m always so focused on how precious little time humans have and as a result I focus on trying to make everything count to the fullest. It’s not a bad way to live so long as you give yourself permission to make mistakes. Mistakes are how you learn + grow emotionally, spiritually and artistically. I forget that so often…

The above is a frame from a video I shot several months ago. I don’t like shooting video—I’m an analog snob—but desperate times, desperate measures. The video itself was a disaster and I haven’t looked at it since I shot it. But when I saw that this weeks theme was ‘art’, I searched desperately for something to submit. Re-watching the awful video, this one frame jumped out at me so with the a little help from Alveoli Photography to clean it up I decided to share it as a reminder to myself and others that showing up is just as if not more important than having a devastating aesthetic sensibility.

Sometimes we have to create many things to get one thing we are happy with, and it this case it seems like you captured hundreds or thousands of frames for your video and found one frame you were happy with. I think in the end it was definitely worth it, and I’m glad you put in the time to find the right moment and thanks for sharing it with us. 



“And it will be more like a song, and less like its math

If you pull on my hair and bite me like that.” (Bright Eyes)

I used to submit my self shots, but now I have few reasons for submitting some I took of my partner.. first of all, there aren’t that many male submissions here usually and I don’t like this difference. this is quite generic view only. most personal is that I enjoy watching my partner playing with himself and it really turns me on. this time I took some pictures of the action..

It was a great Saturday afternoon and we had sex straight after this little shoot and few times later. different places, different intensity but all these were a real pleasure.

Absolutely gorgeous photo, I like everything about it from his sweet purple pants to her knees in the corner. Glad to hear you two are showing off for each other and documenting it, watching your partner get themselves off is pretty much the best way to learn about what they like and how to get them off. Sounds like you two had an amazing day, I’m quite jealous. I hope you two come back to share with us again, thanks again great job A+. 

This and Knitphilia’s Rape isn’t sexy, but being a survivor is are far-and-a-fucking-way my favorite Nympho Ninjas’ Submission Sunday contributions. (An aside: while I am guardedly supportive of the community surrounding NN it does–as an Asian-American–bother me the way ‘ninja’ is so casually appropriated.)

I don’t think this is an objectively good image. Further, pairing it with Conor Oberst’s self-important ravings borders on intolerable.  But, for all its flaws, it has something many more technically adept work lack: truthfulness–the frayed rag rug, messy hair, kick ass pants, beautiful light on the back of his right hand and knees jutting into the frame.

This is the first time in my life I have actually wished a depiction of male-bodied desire was of me–I almost globally identify with female-bodied depictions of desire. Here, I think it’s due to a mistaken notion that if I looked like this there’d might be a slightly better than impossible odds someone would find me attractive.