Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
A picture is worth a thousand words. Models: Crystal and Chandra
Honestly, I cannot say what the inspiration for this was, or what it is, or what it’s supposed to mean, or even why it should exist. Almost none of my work starts out as a concept, an idea taking form in the realm of words or intended meaning or purpose. This, like so much of my work, just springs forth my subconscious, much like a dream. One of my goals with Mother Id is to practice tapping into the wellspring of creative energy that lies beneath our conscious rational mind. Art does not have to make sense. It just is–like the universe. The only meanings are those we create. When I create some art, it’s usually only after its creation that I contemplate it and find meaning–meaning for myself that is; it might have different meaning for someone else, or no meaning at all. Maybe it serves as a visual metaphor for something and illuminates that something for us in a way that we did not otherwise see. Or maybe it evokes a feeling that we might not otherwise feel. To me, encountering art like this is like getting plopped down in some alien world. And though we may have questions and seek explanations, there are no manuals or teachers to provide answers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this freaky, what-the-fuck-is-it, image, and I am sorry I cannot provide more insight about what it is and what it means. If I think of something I will let you know.
We grow like snakes, shedding layers of skin that we leave behind in dried-out, lifeless husks as we get larger and larger–only these skins take on many forms in many dimensions: the cradle, the playpen, school, ignorance, fears, home, church, friends, belief systems, teams, clubs, tribes, self-image, etc.; and until we shed these once-protective, now-restrictive layers, we are confined in virtual jars that are usually transparent enough to see at least some of what is outside but prevents us from exploring all that is beyond the glass walls of whatever manifestations of super-ego we find ourselves trapped behind.
Inferno Salutation
In twilight’s grasp, two maidens fair, Virgins pure, in whispered air.
Above the flames, a ritual dance, Salutations woven in fiery trance.
Gentle flickers, embers rise, Reflections gleam in fervent eyes.
Innocence draped in sacred shroud, They tread on ground, the unhallowed crowd.
Around the pyre, secrets untold, Mystic whispers, a tale unfolds.
A dance of spirits, shadows cast, In the smoldering fire, memories amassed.
Gowned in white, a celestial grace, They twirl and weave in sacred space.
Each step a hymn, a silent prayer, In the inferno, destiny they share.
The flames, they hunger, lapping higher, Anointing the ritual with mystical fire.
Sacrifice made on this sacred night, Two souls ablaze, their spirits take flight.
As embers ascend in the ethereal night, The virgin women merge with the light.
Consumed by flames, a transcendental pyre, They become one with the celestial choir.
In the stillness, the smoldering glow, The remnants of souls, an afterglow.
A dance immortal, in the fire’s embrace, Two virgin spirits, leaving earthly trace.
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Dancers: Jenn Michelle and Crystal Nicole
Midnight romp of the fairies at Moon Monkey Pond. Model: Lethe
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Red-Caped Goddess. Model: Rachel Lily
Red cape whispers grace,
Lily dances on the stone,
Nature’s goddess twirls.
Tesla’s young protege Violet experimenting with high voltage electrostatic washes. Model: Violet
