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    Doing Science To It: Masturbation


    2010 - 06.26

    We all do it.  It’s a part of the daily routine for some of us.  And usually, it includes at least some small bit of fantasy – our ability to put the real world aside for a moment and live in a world of our own creation.  Apparently, this is something entirely unique to the human race.

    Perhaps this is why we are the only species that actually masturbates to completion intentionally.  Jesse Bering talks about our masturbation habits, how they set us apart, and the effect that porn may have on our creativity in his article on ScientificAmerican.com.  He talks about how our unique brains give us the ability to conjure up images that arouse and enthrall us, encouraging us to pleasure ourselves.  He also discusses how we are the only species known to masturbate to intentional climax, and how our sexual activity actually increases our fantasy creation and leads us to masturbate more often.

    It’s a fascinating read, and it’s definitely gotten my mind working.  Perhaps I’ll put the porn aside for a while, and let the movies in my mind take over….

    Revel


    2010 - 06.26

    If there is anything in the world that deserves reverence and worship, it is the miracle of the human body.  It’s an incredibly complex machine, elegant in its design and awesome in its presentation.  Each body is different, from the curves and angles to the basic chemical blueprint – a marvel and a universe on its own.

    I love taking time to learn a new lover’s body, discovering that little mark that he’s forgotten about, that tickle even she didn’t know she had;  to encourage my lover to feel worshiped, adored, loved; to explore the unique scent that only he can create, and how it changes; to compare the taste of the inner wrist to the curve of hip to the back of the knee; to revel in the intimate and singular gift with which I have been presented.

    Exploring a new body is an adventure.  There are sensitive twitches, taste variations, color shifts, scars to commemorate trials…an entirely new world to map and memorize.  We all bear the marks of our lives, and our lovers use them to learn our histories in an intimate, unique way.  The scraped knee that never quite healed, the surgery scar, the watchband tan line, the unexpected twitch when a certain spot is touched..the little details that build a person to completion are there, waiting to be discovered and inspire us to share our stories.

    Flashes of Innocence


    2010 - 03.03

    There wasn’t a reason for her to look at him – he hadn’t moved or made any noise.  She did look, though, and was momentarily stricken with his eyelashes.  Not something one usually notices on strangers, really.

    He had his eyes closed, listening to some generic rap song turned up way too loud on his headphones.  No doubt he’d normally be instantly judged as a troublemaker or a gang member, but in that instant all she could see was how young he was.  Those thick eyelashes resting on cheeks still plump with baby fat…just a kid, trying to act like something resembling an adult.  She automatically thought of all the times she’d cooed over adorable babies in that same state, and he was irrevocably imbued with that sweet innocence.

    He got up and walked away a moment later, complete with the typical swagger of an arrogant young man…but the innocence on his face stuck with her until he disappeared from sight.

    Train


    2010 - 02.19

    She takes the train to work every day, and every day the view seems different.  It all alters with the song playing through her headphones – sometimes she sees destruction, sometimes rebirth, sometimes both.  It’s always beautiful, though, even in the occasional ugliness.  Trash and old tires strewn down hillsides with trees and weeds growing wild around them, crumbling bricks of walls and buildings covered with snow and graffiti.

    Sometimes she sees a post-nuclear world, where mankind has lost the main battle and has been relegated to its beginnings – gathering food from Mother Nature as she reclaims her planet.  Buildings deserted and disintegrating under the weight of grass and trees, and animals using the ruins as new, more secure homes.  It moves her violently sometimes, and she can get lost in that apocalypse so easily, until the rumbling of the train jolts her back to awareness.

    Other times, she sees life bustling wildly – people hurrying to and fro, manic and lost in their own worlds, just as she appears at that particular instant.  She wonders what they’re thinking, tries to guess at their deepest secrets, and wishes them well as they move past her without even registering her presence. She doesn’t miss being so self-absorbed – it kept her from noticing the flowers peeking through the cracks of concrete and steel.