Brick by Brick, Mother and Muse
A discussion about erotic art & the next chapter in personal mission
My older cousin (maybe ninth grade) and I (maybe fifth grade) flipped through the Hustler magazines as if they were copies of Highlights, occasionally stopping on an image with intrigue, eyes wandering the page until they inevitably zeroed in on penetration and maybe a female face in (portrayed) orgasmic delight. You know, the same way you would be proud of yourself for finding the ice cream cone in the farm scene of the “Hidden Pictures” feature.
No big deal. Just flipping pages. Absorbing the shots of skin. Not at all like stereotypical scenes in media of boys gawking and heckling and being so damn loud.
Maybe it was because we didn’t want to get caught.
As we went through the stash, I would occasionally “hmm” and “look at that” to her. She looked up, took in the image, and continued flipping as if she needed as many pages as possible uploaded into her mental databank. I brought this cache of porn magazines to her attention one summer at our grandparents’ house. I found it when I was looking around, exhausted from the Miami heat, for doodling material in a room a family member was temporarily staying.
After we scanned the issues into our cognizance, she maturely put them back and said something about not saying anything about them again.
***
There was a large painting (mass produced, like the kind you get at Marshalls or Home Goods today) at her mom’s, my Titi’s house. It had a canvas feel and an ornate gold frame. A young woman in a see-through dress cuddled with her beloved on a swing. Her nipple at center.
Soon enough, I became desensitized to it, though quite apparent as it immediately greeted you from the living room wall when you opened the front door. Glancing at the lovebirds, I thought good for her as I walked past it to grab a snack from the kitchen or ran upstairs to watch my other cousin play endless rounds of Street Fighter II.
***
Back at my house, I stumbled upon another sexual find, my parents’ sex positions book, chock full of illustrations. I would occasionally come back to it when my parents weren’t home until it went missing one day, filling me with dread (Did they find out I was looking at it?!) and disappointment… because on my third go-around, I started actually reading the descriptions.
And these were my remedial introductions into somewhat erotic/nude/pornographic art and media.
So nuanced. Such class. Could someone get pre-teen Desiree a fancy monocle and more sparkling cider in her 90s Disney movie cup from Burger King?
One big—maybe the biggest—reason for this Substack is to answer the question: Why am I the way I am? As you know, this is in regard to my fierce draw to sensuality, liberation from patriarchal sexual and modesty constructs, growing comfort in my body, and where I find my provocative muses, especially after purity culture and evangelicalism.
And this is very much derived from erotic mediums going back to my youth.
Many of you, having read my regular “The Fracture” monthly feature, are aware that I’m drawn to erotic art. Back in the days when I was deep in the intestines of church culture, I would occasionally catch a glimpse of a sensual piece at a museum, bookstore, or cafe, making sure I did not linger too long on it but still locking the image into my brain. I was emboldened and felt much admiration for the creator: to produce what many won’t get. Thank you, artist/model, for grabbing my face and jerking it in your direction, causing me to break down like a Jenga tower, and then taunting me by slowly rebuilding my frame one brick at a time with your essence stamped on each.
And then a toddler would break me from the spell and say something like, “My butt feels spicy. I need to go to the bathroom.” (My kids are older now and know a little about my provocative draws. “She’s having a moment. Leave her. She’ll find us.”)
Coming out of organized religion, I had the freedom to explore sexual curiosities, but I soon found out that people disappoint and are self-limiting while art keeps giving in new ways. It’s a love affair with a strong pull and one I feel a deep need to immerse myself in.
For paid subscribers, I have introduced my Provocative Lookbooks (the first edition is free) which reveals my path to body confidence and autonomy via photography.
But I want this year to stretch me in weird and exceptional ways, telling stories about breaking free from our norms or bringing light to our darkest corners. (Themes, themes, themes! I’m horny for themes!1)
But first, let’s talk about some of the characteristics of erotic art that garner this allure for me.
Erotic art: I am (still) warm flesh in our robotic world
I know, my headings are superfluous and dramatic. Deal with it. But if you want to get down to the semantics, Wikipedia defines erotic art as:
“A broad field of the visual arts that includes any artistic work intended to evoke arousal. It usually depicts human nudity or sexual activity, and has included works in various visual mediums, including drawings, engravings, films, video games, paintings, photographs, and sculptures.”
Though seemingly similar, it’s important to distinguish the difference between erotic art and erotica. The experts say erotic art usually includes themes, artistic merit, and intentional depth (“What does this say about society?”), while erotica is basically intended to give you a boner. Art vs. porn.
Can it be both? The internet is still deciding on basic definitions and purposes.2
Like many genres of art, erotic art should move someone to consider introspection and relationship to one’s world. In other words, it should wake you up, body and mind and heart.3 In my opinion, I believe it should “evoke arousal” through feelings and meaning based on the sensual/sexual imagery. After all, that’s what got you in the door.
Elizabeth Glaessner’s Strange Loop (2021) reminds me of the endless cycle of birth and becoming, giving and getting. Some may not see it as “erotic” (why?), but as both mother and muse4, it strikes me with stability and overwhelm simultaneously.
And as I currently tap on a machine, Glaessner’s piece reminds me that I am a warm body as I produce, be it organism or orgasm.
Erotic art: No, I’m in charge. No, you’re in charge.
Erotic art should make us question power dynamics or see them in unconventional ways. There’s always a top and always a bottom.
Sex and intimacy has so much bearing on the transfer of vulnerability and control, and the beauty of it given consensually (which includes in consensual nonconsent situations and settings with safe words, but that’s a different post for which I have little experience in… heavy sigh).
How can you not love Banksy’s Queen Victoria (2003)? Royalty is held up in high regard, and quite literally in this piece. Though many would see the image of the queen as a dominatrix as crude, My Art Broker emphasizes how it “challeng(es) traditional notions of femininity and power dynamics.”
Banksy’s piece brought one of my favorite fiction characters to the forefront of my mind: Lara Pulver’s Irene Adler, BBC’s Sherlock, “A Scandal in Belgravia,” Season 2, Episode 1. Ms. Adler is a dominatrix who has incriminating photos of a female member of the royal family. The role reversal! But wait… Irene can’t even woo the asexual (???) Sherlock?!
Yes, a character, an actor’s portrayal, as erotic art! Fight me.
If you’ve ever watched the episode, you know the sexual tension and ever-changing power dynamics are thick.5
I want erotic art to conjure up the desire for both first and second place.
Erotic art: I’m out of cookie cutters.
I don’t want to gulp down the same ol,’ same ol.’ I want to get shook in my art.6 Impactful art brings the periphery to the main stage. It decidedly nonconforms. I believe this is where erotic art is so much more than a woman in lingerie on a plush bed. It does not illicit the following surface-y responses:
“Well, that’s nice.”
“She’s pretty. Nice butt.”
“How much do you think a hotel room like that costs? We need a vacation.”
For me, weighty erotic art pushes me and picks a fight as it turns my desire upside down or magnifies it. Usually, this is delivered with a hefty dose of boldness.
Enter PeachFuzz, the Austin-based, women-run nudie magazine, depicting a variety of women with different bodies and ages (mostly young, unfortunately) just living their best lives. It’s a decent start.
Then you have the flamboyance and vivacious imagery of the photographer-painter duo Pierre et Gilles.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much in regard to erotic photography go-to collections, specifically the kind that causes one to pause and think and imprint on. Reddit’s NSFW photography subs are just boring, albeit with beautiful, naked women… but rarely with a good story to tell. (Thanks a lot, male gaze. As a woman attracted to women, I expect more. I must find a place to pencil in “Dismantling” in my schedule. Ugh, parent-teacher conferences are coming up.)
READERS, GIVE ME SOME RECOMMENDATIONS. WHAT MOVES YOU?
Why is this important to me? I have so many images in my mind that I want to create in real life. So much time has passed where I previously felt restricted and believed my body was a conduit for sin. I want to tell stories with my body using seedy settings and glorious aesthetics and odd yet applicable props and themes (always) that question in our growing A.I., forever-algorithmic, loneliness-epidemized (I made that up and it will stick) world:
Are we still considered alive?
Are we questioning the right things?
Are we offended by the wrong things?
I want freedom, assurance of presence, and community that is openminded. Now more than ever.
In 2025, if our bodies are still deemed "inappropriate" in function and pure existence via breastfeeding and not wearing a bra, why not elevate their importance and honor in art form?
It comes down to oppression, and sex, sensuality, and the erotic, and their abilities to display both liberation and vulnerability, are particularly cozy mediums for rebellion.
Sure, it's important and responsible to let people know what they're signing up for with descriptions and content warnings when entering the creative market, but I’m not moving backwards. Do not invade my space with your own self-prisoning, paint-by-number, anti-Gardasil, purity culture-influenced pearl clutching.
What is taboo only becomes more mysterious.
What is controlled will occasionally dream of the taste of freedom.
What is hushed will erupt in whispers.
What is easily and lazily demonized tends to be closer to the Divine.
Such a shame when people only bring an eraser to art class.
There are so many gifted, younger, and urbanized writers and adventurers in this space. I sometimes wonder Why bother? as I embark in this world in my forties as a mother, wife, and later-in-life queer who is geographically isolated. I’m no expert (and I love that) but am very entranced by making moving art and sharing unguarded accounts while embracing the human form and sensuality. With that, readers, you’ve been a gift as I’ve unlocked different levels on this journey, and I’m looking forward to the next one.
Some of these themes include: sensuality in mid-life motherhood, questioning of influential media (Who is influencing who?), flipping/analyzing power dynamics, bodies as cycles/machines, goddess/religious symbolism, etc.
I believe this can definitely be in the eye of the beholder. What is the artist’s aim? Can an artist even control the intended message? For more, check out Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
For us being “so 2025” and holistic, why do people still separate body, mind, and heart/soul when it comes to anything sexual? The importance of “separating your feelings” and “not getting attached.” Even as an enneagram 8 who hates looking vulnerable, why is this slicing so prescriptive? I admit I’m the queen of false self-preservation. Everyone just bothers me right now. I actually bother me right now.
Sophie B. Hawkins, “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover”: “I am everything, tonight I'll be your mother.”
“Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.” IYKYK.
Notice I didn’t say “shocked.” I want this art to grab me and make me ponder what’s underneath the surface. Especially images with a pornographic bent, it’s very easy to shock. For me, the best art makes me work for that electricity.
A couple recommendations of online porn comics. I say porn because I'm pretty sure that's the term the comic creators use. I'm recommending these because of their art and their enthusiasm for variety and weirdness.
Oglaf.com is a humor comic with lots of sex.
Incase.buttsmithy.com is where "Incase" puts his shorter comics. His main project "Alfie", a ongoing story set in fantasy world, is at buttsmithy.com.