Tag: sexuality

Re: Skin

A quick wikipedia search reveals that the skin on our bodies is the largest human organ; about 15% of the total boy weight. That fact is amazing considering the lack of attention it gets in campaigns for better health. Most likely we consider the heart first. Perhaps this is valid since, once it stops beating, we are dead. But other organs come before skin in discussions too: “Did you hear, she’s got lung cancer!” “He drank so much and his liver is shot.” “I told you over and over that smoking pot would addle your brain.”

Of course we are warned to cover-up in the summer time. I’ve always loved the freedom I feel on a sandy beach. I can lay for hours basking on a towel and absorbing all that beautiful sunny warmth. The last time I went to my dermatologist for a check-up he asked if I would consider using sunscreen. He just smiled when I said, “Nah.” I have my reasons, none of them satisfactory excuses: I don’t like the feel of the SPF cream on my skin. I’ve heard that all those doses, washing off in the water, are killing the coral reefs. It’s just another cosmetic industry scam to make us buy product to line shareholders’ pockets. Anyway, I love sporting a tanned body.

In another lifetime, I must have been starved of touch, because there are days when I yearn for physical contact. In university, I learned about a study done on baby monkeys, involving two fake monkey mothers, one made of wire and holding a baby bottle of liquid nourishment, and another model without the bottle but covered in soft cloth. The study showed that the babies would prefer time on the cloth model, even at the expense of growing hungry. Modern maternity nurses are well aware of the value of skin-to-skin contact from the moment of birth. Skin hunger is a real, documented phenomenon. To crave skin is not a sin, but society has made it suggestively sexual, or perverted, no thanks to stories of flaying, like in Silence of the Lambs.

I would not describe myself as a ‘touchy-feely’ sort of guy. I’m too private a person for inclusion in a Naturist Resort, although I respect the idea that we can be free to be in our Birthday Suit. I don’t walk around with a sign printed, ‘Free Hugs’ at street corners. But I do like to hold hands, shake hands, and other wise use my hands to make contact with another. I’m happy to have found this sort of skin-ship with my life-mate. I still remember the first time she touched me, after asking permission, on my thigh. I’ve talked to others who recall their first hand-hold while walking, which awakened their longing to belong. 

Skin can be a barrier, a germ protector, or a first line of defence against disease. Skin also allows us to feel a oneness with others, even with another species. There’s a reason why pet ownership is so popular. Stroking is part of a healthy lifestyle.

Re: Secret

Hooray for me! I kept a secret while being a painfully honest person. That’s hard to do because with secrets come lies. To preserve the secret, a fib can feel inevitable. And I told several white lies. That’s how it went for me anyway, when I tried to surprise my bride of almost twenty years.

The story of this secret starts with me being pulled into a gallery by my wife to see, “The most amazing painting for our wall!” It was colourful and big, the original painting that is, but the lie became that size too. I went back to the gallery privately a total of six times to arrange the acquisition of my lover’s desire. Gallery staff became quickly amused by my instructions to keep everything Top Secret (at first it seemed like fun but I realized later that I was putting a lot on their shoulders). One employee actually offered to make up a story if ever she encountered my wife on a subsequent visit. Spies are needed in the secrecy business I guess. I insisted that all receipts and communication came to me through a selected email. Even with these well-laid plans I tried not to wince whenever it looked like I may have been discovered by the birthday girl. Long story short; the secret survived until the reveal of the gift. I was a hero but somewhat dazed and confused.

I read once that a secret was like carrying a fresh egg in the palm of your hand for days. My birthday secret was joyous but after months of deception I wondered about secrets that may cause injury. Secrets aren’t always a happy thing. For example we may see someone, a friend of a friend perhaps, in a compromising position. We may wonder if we should tell others involved about the secret being displayed. We may wonder if it’s our business to do so. There was a Jumbotron video capture at a Coldplay concert recently that led to someone being fired. What happened in Boston, didn’t stay in Boston.

Gossip is like a confidence that a friend has shared with us in the way that we must decide to be part of the secret or not. I wouldn’t trust a friend who told me never to share what he/she/they just told me. I don’t want that responsibility. I don’t want to be a confidante. If the secret is that precious I don’t know if I could be trustworthy enough to carry that fragile thing around with me. Being Cis, I can only imagine the turmoil that is a daily part of life for someone with gender dysphoria. What does one do with feeling constantly apart while trying to understand oneself? Society and its rules are responsible for making confidentiality ok sometimes, or a matter for public consumption depending on circumstance.

When my mom had to keep a secret she would confide that she wasn’t sure if her deodorant would hold up. I’m wondering now if that’s why antiperspirants were originally marketed to women. Sexist! My brand is Mennen. Don’t tell anyone.

Re: Sex

I never had a birds and the bees discussion with my father, perhaps consequently I was averse to having ‘the talk’ with my three sons. To even write about sex makes my typing fingers go all jittery. Thank goodness for auto correct while I try to navigate the politically incorrect. I may be timid about the topic of sex but I champion its inclusion in classrooms.

Currently North Americans are getting all hot and bothered about how sexuality, sexual orientation, sexual preference, and sexual identity can be taught in schools. Children’s rights are being trampled as we claw at each other over who is the responsible distributor of sex information. When it comes to sex curricula we all share the book, even though there is no single definitive volume on the subject. Parents, teachers, administrators, politicians are all probably a bit shy when it comes right down to how to approach sex.

We rarely open up about our sexual body parts. In the art world, some dare to showcase those things that are obvious whenever we step from the shower. The penis rarely gets talked about or even seen unless it’s associated with a crime scene. It is taboo in film to show a penis unless it’s a rubber one. I remember seeing an ad for a bunch of male performers who would play with their organs like a puppet (originated in Australia called Puppetry of the Penis, I never went, too embarrassed, but very curious in an innocent way). I’ve been to a performance of Vagina Monologues and remember being stunned by the bravery of the cast to talk about such intimate things. As a lover of language, I am amused by the variety of descriptions for our sex bits: A hot dog bun, a mussel, an acorn, a mushroom, a zucchini, a kiwi. Funny how we use items in the grocery store to help define what lies unexposed in our underwear. The pseudonyms for penis and vagina, even breasts, can fill a book or at least the length of a comic’s stand-up routine. Over sexualizing our body parts is part of the communication problem. An abundance of puritanical privacy and secrecy makes any issue of sexuality ripe for problematic intercourse or discourse.

Sex is an activity, an orientation, an identity or a bad word depending who is doing the talking

Much of what I thought I learned as a child about sexiness came from Playboy magazines that my friend and I would find in our apartment building’s basement storage lockers. We’d show each other pictures, giggling nervously while wondering if we’d get caught. When I taught students of that same age in sexual health classes, I was professional enough to engage them seriously. Many parents sat in on my tutorials, telling me how discussion continued with their children after going home. The recent British television drama Sex Education does an excellent job breaking down stereotypes and common misconceptions.

Conquering our bashfulness will be a first step toward talking to each other about who we are meant to be.

Re: Voice

Every artist has a desire to find their own authentic voice through their work. In song, the quality of the voice seems obvious, however it isn’t about technical ability alone. There is a craft to be learned with all art for sure, but one’s singular voice can only come from your soul. I believe the iconic image of the ‘struggling artist’ is a reference to this creative force willing itself alive. It’s hard to define or keep consistent. Often we sing a different tune. The voice one seeks is sometimes merely a whisper or an echo, or a memory. It needs to be heard, begs to be seen, desires to be applauded. When it doesn’t show itself, it’s frustrating. Writers call it a block, visual artists fear the blank canvas. Actors too, can draw a blank, freezing on stage. Sculptors agonize over quarried stone or soft clay, unable to hear what lies within. Dancers stiffen, singers go mute for lack of direction from their inner voice. Whether vocal or metaphorical, I believe your voice will eventually assert itself.

To be given a public voice through fame must feel intimidating. Celebrities experience this when suddenly their opinion matters. The microphone is poked at their face. The questions come fast and furious. When you’re famous everyone wants to know how you feel, where you stand, whose side you’re on: Give us your opinion please so we ordinary people know how to act. Under such pressure to be a role model, it’s no wonder to me that many simply crack. I worry for the pressures placed on Greta Thunberg in this regard. She is receiving good guidance to stay with the issue, diverting attention from herself by exhorting us to “Listen to the science.”This latest video shows Ms.T.’s familiar voice speaking for the planet.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7WvehTbuvIo

We all have degrees of difficulty when it comes to giving voice to our feelings and thoughts. We may be shy about speaking up, speaking out and making ourselves heard. Yet how else are we to be known by others. We show respect to people who give us their opinion even though we may not share it. We turn to some for advice, when they have earned our trust through their words and deeds. I remember, in late adolescence, telling my parents that I had changed career plans. I thought the news would disturb them. But they heard the passion in my voice and gave me their support. Coming out with any news can feel dangerous, especially if what you want to reveal is against a societal norm. For example, Ellen Page’s transition to Elliot Page has fascinated me. I can’t imagine what that’s like, yet through her journey, my own vocal notes have changed. I deeply respect those who use their voice to help redefine culture. Their story, their struggles, their desire to be understood, accepted and supported provide a new context in which we can all re-examine our own lives and our place on Earth.