Self-Portrait Day: Objects of Desire, Day 2

____________
Blendin


1. Eric Fisch's Krefeld Project: Living Room Scene 3, 2002 - High contrast lighting and awkward suburban sexuality - it is really all I need in a painting.





2. Southern Prog Metal band Baroness (whom I am going to see play on July 22).





3. Samantha Morton, as she appears in Michael Winterbottom's 2003 film, Code 46.





4. Rogue River Blue Cheese, Rogue Creamery, Central Point, OR. A roquefort style mold, aged one year and then wrapped in grape leaves macerated in pear brandy.





5. And, as of July 10, Jonathan Sanchez's no hitter, which I saw from the left field stands. As close as I am every going to get to a religious experience. (All 28 batters)






____________
Oscar B


I decided to focus on characteristics of the human body that most inspire my lust. I used both photographs found on the internet and drawings I made. The people portrait are either strangers or made up ( the drawings). I wasn't interested in their identity, but in specific parts of their bodies.


1. The line that runs from the neck down the shoulders and towards the chest.





2. A special sparkle in one's eyes





3. Pale skin and red lips





4. Childish knees






____________
Kier













____________
Lux


These are the 2 girls I desire most. I want them in my life. Here’s my/our stories.


Lisa



We randomly met online. She lives in Texas. I live in London…can you see where this is going?
We instantly hit it off. She was funny, cool and little troubled. We shared a love for indie rock and most things Pitchfork. She was into a lot of American indie cinema so again we bonded on that. At times I thought “I was a girl this is exactly what I’d be like”.

To cut a long transatlantic romance short I feel for her - she fell for me. We spoke almost everyday, I posted her mix CDs, we text, we emailed and I stayed up late talking. For me, pretty much every waking minute was spent thinking about her - no exaggeration. At one point I was so obsessed I asked Dennis for advice I wanted to knowthe point he knew he had to move to be with Yury cause I had to be with her. I was gonna move to Texas.

That summer she was studying at NYU film school for the summer and I had planned on borrowing around a thousand pounds from my sister for a flight to go visit her in New York for 2 weeks. Just before I was gonna book the flight she told me she had met a boy in Texas before she left for NYU and they've beendating and she doesn’t want me to visit.

I tried to remain friends afterwards but she pretty much just stopped talking to me and cut me out of her life. I tried emailing, calling and texting but I got nothing back. I think about her way to much even though I know you gotta be a quite a bitch too keep the whole boyfriend thing from me for so long. On paper it looks like I’m probably better off without her. But yeah… love is weird.



Chrissie.



Chrissie lives in London. She’s maybe the hottest girl I’ve ever met.
She’s wild. She plays in stoner rock group. We used to hang out listen to The Stooges and watch Alejandro Jodorowsky films. She reads beat generation lit and tells me she listens to the band Sleep and drifts off going on journeys in her mind and just feels epic. I saw her dance once to Gene Clarks ‘No Other’ and I still can’t get it out of my head One night I stayed over and the following morning she went out and bought me a Dr Pepper, cigarettes and a muffin - the coolest thing a lady has ever done for me. I think I was a little fan boy obsessed with Chrissie. I’d never met anyone quite like her. I’d hang on her every word. I talk a lot usually but our dynamic was different I’d pretty much remain silent and listen.

I had bought us tickets to go to a few films at a film festival and she cancelled at the last minute. I was little pissed off and disappointed .I didn’t speak to her for a while. I thought I’d wait for her to get in contact, maybe say sorry. She didn’t. It was 6 months before I emailed saying something on the lines of ‘I was pissed you cancelled and we’ve never spoke since WTF?’I got a short weird email back and we haven’t properly spoken since. Recently I left a few voicemails and she’s never called back.



Epilogue

I’m haunted by these girls. I don’t know what hold they have on me. I think about them all the time. I loved them both. Do they miss me? Do they wonder what I’m doing? Do they sometimes want to call? I want the answers… maybe I’m just insecure and need the self validation. Maybe since their not in my life I’ve built them up in my imagination to more important people than they are. Maybe they were no good for me but I know I still miss them. And there’s that line in Lunar Park I keep coming back to “You were the one I needed I loved you in my dreams”




____________
Tomkendall


---This is less about the object of my desire, the person who I'd put before you if i were less afraid, than a portrait of it's transmission. The way my feelings towards her have become precarious, brittle; also thoroughly swamped, saturated blue. The way my tenderness is always in danger of losing sight of her through it's actions, the threat of indulgence, of hypnotism through technique. On the other hand the impossibility of not being moved into newness by a sudden unexpected relation to the world. I heard Picasso (who i dont know much about and who im not that interested in, or not vitally interested in any case) created a blue for this picture that no one since has been able to figure out. Is that true? Maybe science just doesn't care enough to intrude. Something is illustrated. More than this it just shows how fucking alone and stranded and contained within a figure this desire is. Sorry if i sound like a dick

love tomk






____________
Steevee


Amjad Atallah, a policy wonk for the New America Foundation.
Jon Hamm.
Cable channel NY1 reporter Josh Robin.
Bradley Cooper.
Shihab Rattansi, an anchor on Al Jazeera English.














______________
Thomas Moronic





LEAVE

It isn't a case
of just trying to be sincere
but when someone's ass
is right there
open in front of your face
it's hard not to just
blurt out what's on your mind
all the jealousy
I'm going to forget
and just suck love
into you
and let my fingers
slide in and out of you
and let my tongue
dip onto you
and feel sweet
and crazed
and feel
lost and hazed
over by the magnitude
of those two cheeks
leave handprints
leave redness
leave ghosts
and lose both of us
and everything
and let your gentle moan
strangle me
and drown me
and leave saliva
and tiny matted hair
and go back down
and try to remember
how days are meant
to run when
the world isn't
you in front of
my face

MURMUR

IHOP murmur
His eyes look drugged
Or his mouth droops
Which I guess could be
Slushies

He's got this t-shirt
Says "Try & Catch Me"
Some Cartoon

***

Another thought
Hired apartment
My hands covering
Smooth and pale
Thighs.
Curtains drawn mid
afternoon.

Cautious covering
Tracks that I made
Sure I never left




______________
Christopher/Mark


"That was easy!"














____________
Pisycaca


Xet

throughtheweed



Peeping Tom through my weed plants. This is what I see from our balcony, appartments that are rented to tourists and the things they do.



Vintage_drum







Montse

Helmutnewton





Benoit



Since I watched The Piano Teacher, I had a crush on Benoît Magimel.



Xet






_____________
Bacteriaburger


There are two guys whose ads I've been tracking on Craigslist for the past month or so. I search out their ads using their ages, locations, and the terms/language that they invariably use. They are both similar in their wants/needs but I'll start with my favorite, who I guess I'll call "Patient Rim Guy":

http://docs.google.com/View?id=dgqq9w8v_695mmhdjd8

Patient Rim Guy has a girlfriend, but really appreciates getting his ass licked by a guy. Time is a big element - he wants a rim job that lasts "hours," he wants his rimmer to take it slow, ramp it up. "Maybe" he'll let you stick a finger inside him. He used to say "maybe" he'd let you suck him off, but that's changed - now he usually wants head with his rim job.

The second I'll call "Impatient Rim Guy":

http://docs.google.com/View?id=dgqq9w8v_68f4gnxhgj

I haven't been as good about saving his ads even though I've been tracking him for longer. He posted a picture once, and the goods seemed to be there. Impatient Rim Guy is charming like a child is charming. He wants his ass licked now - not tomorrow, not a week from now. He doesn't have time for grammar or punctuation. I imagine him out with his friends, getting trashed before heading back to his bachelor pad and logging on. Also, he always puts "guys with str8 porn" to the front of the line. Can't he buy/steal it himself? I don't get that.




_____________
Pascal




Simon Larbalestier photo for Pixies Come on Pilgrim. I find this image endlessly sexy and mysterious.




_____________
The cannibals in DC's novel


Charles Guislain










____________
Koes Staassen


I really wish bianca, sierra and I were triplets.
drinking tea and watching thunder storms.





bradley benedetti, or vlad kromatika.
He's just stunning.





jamie stewart, cause we are getting married.
and he will wear the dress.





oh yeah. what I'm made of





I always pretend he's a vampire.






_____________
Inthemostpeculiarway


1 - Smoking





2 - Pseudo Philosphy





3 - Nice Lips





4 - False Confidence





5 - Hunter Parris






____________
Colin Herd


I have only picked three objects of desire, and they are all film-stars I have major screen-crushes on. I have stuck to certain roles in specific films, though. And all of these actors have been in movies where I don't desire them at all.


1. John Moulder-Brown, in Jerzy Skolimowski's 1971 film 'Deep End'.

Call me Diana Dors if you like but I go completely weak at the knees for John Moulder-Brown in this film. I think these two scenes should illustrate why, (although I have to issue a spoiler warning if you haven't seen the film.) I'm a sucker for floppy-haired, obsessive, gormless, short-wearing, hot-dog-guzzling 18-year olds, apparently. The final scene is one of my favourite ever, and I think the gushing water certainly helps put me in a desirous frame of mind.







2. Richard Bradford as McGill in 1967 T.V. Series 'Man in a Suitcase', created by Richard Harris and Dennis Spooner.

Will anyone else pick sex-symbol Richard Bradford? I guess that depends on how many silent middle-aged female readers this blog attracts. I love 'Man in a Suitcase', even though it could out-buckle Joe Swash anyday (in fact, JS himself only narrowly missed out on being the fourth on this list). If you have never seen the T.V. show, but recognize him anyway, it could be from one of his films, or it could be from the cover of the Smiths' single, 'Panic'...





3. Dennis Hopper in Curtis Harrington's 1960 film 'Night Tide'.

Curtis Harrington is one of my favourite directors, and this is a very intriguing, sexy film about a mermaid. Well the film is about desire, and Hopper is adorable and captivating and thrillingly desirable as he falls in love with Mora, played by Linda Lawson. In the clip below, he is joined on screen by Marjorie Cameron, star of a couple of Kenneth Anger films. Hopper's sailor-gettup reminds me of Anger's 'Fireworks', loaded with all the lure and threat of them, and yet it turns out he's very sweet.










____________
Marcus Whale


1. 5th March, 2009 - ?

solvent throat, i eat your musk. look at me a little bit. woolen audio configured outwards.





2. 2nd February, 2006 - 30th June, 2009

i wrote a blog about you.





3. 3rd February, 2007 - 22nd January, 2008

someone's secret, one point defined. followed as numeracy for a time. i'll say something one day. you'll be real.





4. 17th August 2002 - ?

i was the girl. too quiet.





5. 11th May, 2005 - 4th February, 2008

we were on television, someday documented out to blank. i learned how to be hysterical.







____________
Laura Beth Noble


Being my entry... NOW:

"

I'm assuming since lust was followed by desire, that today's SPD is geared toward lust in the sexual sense, not "lust for [insert something like money, power, etc]." I may possibly be the only Weakling here who doesn't like sex. I mean, I don't mind reading about it, or hearing about other people doing it... I just don't really like being involved with the act myself. I have had sober sex very few times in my short sexually active life-span (18 yrs-old to now, almost 21). This will explain my choices, for, these are ways I get around the awkwardness I feel toward a sexual LBN.


1. Cosmopolitan




I go to the local Walgreens each month to pick up a copy of Cosmo. I read damn near every page, and yes, I HAVE used their "secrets" on guys. My God do they work. Cosmo tricks help me feel like I am good at sex, but yet please the guy so it ends up being over quicker. Quicker, but he's happier than the last time. Also, when I read this magazine, it sort of makes me want to see if I can conquer. I've been told by more than one guy that I give the best "head" he's ever gotten... all because of Cosmo, ladies. I don't do it often, so it isn't practice that got me where I am.



2. Alcohol + Clonazepam [Klonopin, K Pin]




RE: Wikipedia on KPINS
"Recreational use produces effects similar to alcohol intoxication...Humans are motivated to misuse benzodiazepines to achieve a sedative-hypnotic high which often produces effects including feeling energetic, relaxed, drunken, talkative, pleasure and euphoria."
Basically, pop a few of these suckers, drink two glasses of wine, and all my inhibitions about sex are erased. The majority of my sexual activity has been based around this mix. I even lost my virginity unexpectedly through these means.



3. Ecstasy [MDMA]



I take E when I go to rave-like concerts. Makes me want to have sex later that night. Key word: WANT.



4. Tim Kasher (of the band Cursive)





Cursive's music is my favorite music of all. Tim is the songwriter, and the songs are magnificant. He is beautiful, too.

"

END SCENE




____________
Jake Byrne


Johnny
I first met Johnny last year. We spent the night in a cheap motel snorting the best shit and then fucked. We promised we'd do this for the rest of our lives. Johnny, the asshole, died, but I still snort the best shit.

Nic
The boy creates lines on the dashboard and smiles at the man. Together they inhale and scatter their brains.
The man sits on the hood of the car and rolls a joint as the boy watches light spill over into the creases of his face. He takes another hit and the stars start to wrestle the clouds over the canvas sky.

His shoulders slump and it takes him a few moments to realize that the man's kissing his neck. He whispers hollow syllables into the boys ear but he's gone. When memories start to exhume themselves from the boys subconcious he takes a larger-than-normal swig of beer. The boy watches ants dismantle a fatigued insect and the snap of the mans fly unzipping kills him.

The boy pulls out a white pill speckled with whatever shit the dealer cut it with and waits a few seconds until the dopamine swallows his brain and sends his senses into over-drive.
The two lay on the back seat of the car. The man rips his clothes off and traces the boys body with his tongue. He bites his lip and leaves a trail of saliva down the boys chest, waist, thighs, dick, legs and toes.

"you can't find me!" he yells as the mans tongue floods over his body.

When he's finished with the surface the man tears back the skin and searches the arteries around the boys frame.

"You can't find me!"

He tear up ribs and re-works veins to find the boy.
"Here!" the boy screams impatiently ripping through his own intestines until he's dismantled on the back seat.
The man wraps his hand around the boys and helps him out the car as gore slips between their fingers.

Outside salt wind leads them towards the ocean and the man lags behind. The boy watches from the corner of his eye, suspicion growing as the speed expires. He's pissed off that the man couldn't find him so fucks off to wherever. The boy drops acid and the sea begins to regurgitate waste, debris, fecies and shit all over him. He screams and the man drags him out of the surf, cleaning him off. The man tears at the waste, searching for the boy, before the tide swallows them both.

The boy resigns himself to the swell and decides to play "hide and seek" from the man but he's gone. The waves play their own game, tossing the boy from rip to rip until salt water spills down his throat. The boy keels over and barfs up his insides, inverting himself on the beach.

Sam
"Jake. Don't fold when you've got such a fucking brilliant hand". Jordans basement is always cold this time of year, but the 8 of us figure there's enough beer and tobacco to desensatize us. "Right, whatever man. I'm going for a smoke."

I sit patiently on the hood of the car, waiting. We do this every week, and every week he makes me wait a little longer. I keep my head down, but from the corner of my eyes I watch his shadow grow larger. Sam's taller than me and I'm envious of his swimmers body, despite the fact all he does is drink and smoke weed.

"Matches?"

I rummage around in my pockets and toss them towards him. Amused as he tries and fails repeatedly to light the cigarette. "Here" I say, taking the matches from his fingers, pausing for a few seconds so our hands touch before lighting his cigarette. When it's done I place the matches in his pocket, again pausing for a few seconds. He grins at me disapprovingly.

"you shouldn't fucking do that. What if one of them see's?"
"No one's going to see"
"You don't know that"
"fuck up, Sam"

"Screw this place." Zipping his leather jacket up he walks away from the house. "Coming?"

We're alone in the network of streets. Smog from the factories on the edge of town has crept into the suburbs, blotting out the stars. We don't talk, he just sings under his breath and plays an imaginery drum kit as he walks. I know he's frustrated, but I can't be fucked making small talk.

When we reach the train station he sits down, motioning for me to follow suit. Pulling out his pouch, he rolls another joint. I've been brought here intentionally. It's another one of his mind fucks. We used to talk about leaving Wangaratta together. We'd spend all day fucking up this place then skip town. He wouldn't have to lie anymore, and I wouldn't have to lie for him.

"Jake, do you remember when we spoke about..."
"yeah"

Two lights peek over the hill and grow steadily larger as they approach the station. The train arrives and for a few seconds the darkness expires. I look at him, hunched over, nervously flicking his cigarette with his eyes screwed shut. Fuck, he's not crying.
I don't have time to find out, the train disappears and darkness returns.
I get up, "I'm going back to Jordan's". He grabs my hand and pulls me back. "Jake, I...". My throat aches. I want to kiss him, fuck him, dominate him until I'm the one in control. I try to argue but all I can manage is "lets go".

"Where the fuck did you two go?"
"we just, we went to get more alcohol but the bottleshop was closed"
"we've got an entire case of beer left, man"
"whatever. Are we going to play some poker?"
"fuck it. I check"




____________
Steven Trull


1. AIDS:

I like it if a person has AIDS. Not HIV. Although, knowing they have HIV is nice, I prefer it if the person has AIDS. I like thinking--while we fuck--that there is a chance of me getting AIDS. Totally exhilarating. So, therefore, I lust after people who are infected--with AIDS.





2. Babies:

I'm not kidding nor do I prefer kids. Kids are cool to talk to and stuff. But I don't really want to fuck them. I would rather stick my little finger in their baby brother's asshole. Or put baby sister's cunt on my mouth when mommy's taking care of something stupid. Remember, we're talking babies. They probably won't remember anything anyways. Still, it's nice to have a professional career. People trust you more.





3. Victims Of War:

Images of atrocities and mayhem. The closer to home, the better. Most people want success and fame. I want war. War offers the best kind of pornography. And I am not the first to say so. Usually you can still see the panic on people's faces shortly after they have been killed in war--as if somehow they knew they were going to die. That's what gets me--that's the best. It's funny. I travel to NYC a lot. But I really missed my chance in 2001. Needless to say, most of my friends will tell you that I am a very emotional person.





4. Riots:

Whenever there is a riot in my neighborhood, I cum. Televised footage of riots also make me cum--although I have to use my imagination a little more, which kind of sucks. I prefer being there, in the street, surrounding by angry, violent people. It certainly beats window-shopping--among others things, of course.





5. Black Girls:

I am totally gay, a full-fledged fag. But, I totally lust after black girls--the darker, the better. I like that their dark skin makes their teeth look whiter, brighter--as if there were a billion screaming stars in the night sky. I like their legs. I like it when they chew gum.






____________
Bill

DC 7/09 Self Portrait Day from One Subliminal on Vimeo.

____________
Killer Luka










"Barchini, with his chiseled features and long elegant body, was the most handsome and most seductive man we met in Surmland (Ethiopia). After painting his body with beautiful chalk designs on the banks of the Dama River, he would turn around and gaze at us intensely, seeking our approval. We were so disarmed by his powerful expression that we would sometimes forget to press our camera shutters." (photographers Carol Beckwith and Angela Fisher).




____________
Wolf











______________
Tender Prey











____________
Tim Niblock


WORDS

A/ RICHARD HELL
The first time I ever came across Richard Hell's name was in a couple of article's in the English weekly music 'inkies' (NME and Melody Maker) about the then nascent underground New York scene centred around CBGB's. This must have been late 1974 or early 1975and at the time he was still playing bass with Television. The pictures that accompanied the words were of a callow young man who looked as though he hung around with a different Verlaine exactly one hundred years ago in the city of lights on the other side of the Atlantic. The words he spoke were about tortoises whose shells were covered in gold and precious stones and that his idea of heaven would be to have a syringe full of smack in one arm while using the other to eat a bowl of oats all while getting a blowjob (from a woman who would be from Paris and exuded pure sex and raw energy.)
Boy did I know (without hearing a single note for the next three tears at least) that the music he would produce would be the most passionate and intelligent of all time. Of then, now and the future and that the majority of the people in the world were to stupid, blinkered and narrow minded to ever hear, feel or see that.
After all it was not about giving 100% not even 200%, it had to be at least 400% attitude....HE COULD ONLY GIVE US EVERYTHING!



B/ JAJOUKA
Elongated strands of music emanated and snaked around the confines of an auditorium used to the sounds of 'highbrow' orchestral works. They swirled around the ornate interior like smoke from the most delicate long stemmed kif pipe.
Time stood still. Seconds turned into hours as the '4,000 year old rock band', took themselves and all the people watching and listening into a tranceworld that was of this world and yet at the same time was not.
The sounds that were produced from the flute like 'lira' and the double reeded 'rhaita' alongside the 'tebel' and 'tarija' rythms combined to conjure up the image of 'Bou Jeloud', the goat like man that danced to the pipes of Pan.
In the course of that evening in Londom in 1981 I had been getting stoned with Brian Jones, had painted freeform calligraphy with Brion Gysin. I had watched the insects crawl in and out of the weeping sores that followed the track marks along William Burrough's arm and yet also found time to sip tea with Paul Bowle's as his houseboy kept the umbrella over his head, sheltering him from the sky above.
As day turned into night and the music kept up its momentum, it was suddenly punctuated by the skreech and skronk of Ornette Coleman's plastic sax, dripping notes of music into the air in the same manner that Jackson Pollock painted.
...and then I realised that the music had stopped.
I could not tell you how long ago the musicians had stopped playing.
No one in the entire building moved, not the musicians nor us in the audience, it was as though each and everyone of us had held our breath for as long as we could and then we gasped to try and understand what it was that we collectively had just experienced.
Grins and applause erupted everywhere.
I knew where I had been for the previous four and a half hours, but as I was to find out on the long bus ride home, we had all gone on quite different journies that night.



ARTWORK



'BLANK GENERATION'
(pencil, felt tip and gold ink on lined paper)
drawn in the early 80's from a photo in the NME and only just recently rediscovered hiding between the pages of a book!




'JAJOUKA'
(ink, pencil, collage, screenprint and lots of coffee!)
drawn about 2 months ago having been inspired at the news that they were to appear with Ornette @ Meltdown
Main image was actually drawn from my original programme from that event in London way back when...




_____________
Bernard Welt


LUST

1. FIRST LUST



I had some huge crushes from 4th grade on, but in 11th grade, I met a new student who became my first sexual obsession. He was a guitar-playing more or less hippie, with something of the vibe of Tim Buckley. He enjoyed hanging out with me but was mostly interested in “turning me on” to pot. I didn’t tell him I had smoked pot off and on for three years already and didn’t much care about it one way or another, because he enjoyed the idea of corrupting me and I figured the pot would get him horny. It did. We fell into this pattern of hanging out after school, getting a little stoned . . . eventually he’d say, “Do you want to do something?” (always the same formula) and we’d do these back rubs that would graduate into fucking between the thighs, then later on, blowing each other.

Eventually he cut me off because, well, you know, he wasn’t gay. I sort of completely dissociated from my intense lust for him, but a couple of times, when I was walking down the halls of my high school, I’d get a whiff of his smell and almost faint dead away.

In the fall, when he went away to college, he started coming home weekends and spending one night with his girlfriend and one night with me. He started wanting me to fuck him. Eventually he broke that off, too.

I didn’t hear from him for years but I’d get word from mutual friends and knew he was a heroin addict. At some point after I started publishing, he contacted me and wanted to show me some work. It was pretty good. He was very into Burroughs and I suggested he see about going to Naropa. I didn’t know much about the atmosphere there at the time but I figured he’d meet people into the same stuff, with similar backgrounds, and maybe some of his heroes.

Within a few weeks he had met Billy Burroughs and then Bill, and soon was living with Bill. He wrote me a couple of letters expressing gratitude for giving him a shove towards Naropa, and he sent me part of a book he was working on with Bill Burroughs to publish in a magazine I was editing at the time.

I didn’t see him much after that but after his mother died, I heard he began wearing her clothes and make-up. (I knew him as Cabell “Stoney” Hardy, but he adopted her last name, McLean.) He was extremely effeminate when I last saw him, as you can kind of see in the picture, where his eyebrows are plucked, etc. Haven’t been able to dig up the couple of old snapshots I have showing how incredibly sexy he was when younger.

Cabell McLean’s obituary at Ashé: A Journal of Experimental Spirituality

Cabell on living with Burroughs

Cabell on “Chaos Magic”



2. FETISHES

A. Gingers





















Pictures of red-headed men, naked and clothed, at: Gingerheadman.com


B. Boy-on-Boy Gang Rape

Les Minets Sauvages












Raw Country

















I think it’s because I never went to summer camp.



HUNGER

Gazpacho




Salty Spicy Pork Chop




Tarama
(carp roe, made into a great Greek salad with olive oil, lemon, and either mashed potato or bread)




Pierogies




Black pepper ice cream




Lavender honey panna cotta




Hazelnut torte




Lasagna




Orange layer cake


----