stream of sin. follow the flow to stay on topic with thoughts, shot discussion, casting, and more.
July 8
Model: Marla Singer (c) 2004-2009 i.m ruzz’ favorite sin I originally posted this on my flickr, but thought it could go here since i’ve all but given up the idea of making money from this and thus have no potential customers to impress or profile for. Want. “—that moment when I took custody of the fantasies of the other men in the room” I was recently talking to judekyle about how sometimes when men are chasing a woman, we desire that particular woman, and sometimes (maybe more often than not) we are chasing the heritage of desiring woman experienced through the spectre of male upbringing. Then I found this quote in a book im reading (which is otherwise mostly boring) and was working on this picture which couldn’t be less about who marla is as a woman, much less a person. It’s about an idea of a woman. Svelte and curling. somewhat blurry and as far from mentally concrete as possible. It seemed apt to include the quote and the thought behind the photo. I think some men might find it uncomfortable to think an image like this is stimulating for any other reason than theres a half naked woman in it, but in truth one of the few things that binds men who would otherwise either be modernly civil yet disliking of one another, or outwardly hostile is a resolute desire of woman (not A woman). wanting women is part of the mythology of being a man and one that is almost violently obvious to boys and young men. And we collect stories of want, and conquest and take them to the locker rooms in our mind and compare them to the stories we heard in hockey rinks and school gyms. from uncles sharing beers or the feather haired ladies man of the neighbourhood. we collect them but never resolve the conflict that caused the desire to collect them and so we share them yet again with the young men and boys in our worlds (because they are non-threatening and fall below us in the order of things). it becomes complex because there is biology involved as well, and dividing biological want from “manhood” want is like splitting atoms, or separating white wine from water. Photography brings yet another complication in that it echoes the unsatisfiable nature of that want. we can find ourselves entered into some childhood fantasy but we cannot consume it. it cannot enter us and become part of us. The want is never sated and the experience becomes trapped in the mind, both while its happening and once its expressed itself. it becomes deeply unhealthy and wildly destructive as we chase and chase that woman coming in and out of focus, emerging from the shadows and slipping gently back into them. We are with her for moments in our mind but never touch her in any meaningful way, never have our fill of her, never find resolution to the riddle. The results are horrific for men. Passing on real tangible pleasures and viable relationships at the merest whisper of her. The results for woman horrific as well. They find it nearly impossible to get a man to engage them as they are and operate on the mistaken assumption we are only interested in their body which creates friction that lets itself out in the ugliest ways, when in truth their bodies are often only potential keys to unlock a desire that previously confounded them but promises to be answered on your hip. We are with you, yet, without. the suffering for both sides is massive on a historical scale and punishing on an individual scale, and so far as i’ve searched i can find no resolution to wanting this creature whom i cannot touch, or love, or consume and even the wreckage i see behind me is a mild deterrent. a momentary deterrent until i become lost in her hair again. or convulse at the fold of her arm. or burn for the arch of her back.

Model: Marla Singer
(c) 2004-2009 i.m ruzz’ favorite sin

I originally posted this on my flickr, but thought it could go here since i’ve all but given up the idea of making money from this and thus have no potential customers to impress or profile for.

Want.

“—that moment when I took custody of the fantasies of the other men in the room”

I was recently talking to judekyle about how sometimes when men are chasing a woman, we desire that particular woman, and sometimes (maybe more often than not) we are chasing the heritage of desiring woman experienced through the spectre of male upbringing. Then I found this quote in a book im reading (which is otherwise mostly boring) and was working on this picture which couldn’t be less about who marla is as a woman, much less a person. It’s about an idea of a woman. Svelte and curling. somewhat blurry and as far from mentally concrete as possible. It seemed apt to include the quote and the thought behind the photo. I think some men might find it uncomfortable to think an image like this is stimulating for any other reason than theres a half naked woman in it, but in truth one of the few things that binds men who would otherwise either be modernly civil yet disliking of one another, or outwardly hostile is a resolute desire of woman (not A woman). wanting women is part of the mythology of being a man and one that is almost violently obvious to boys and young men. And we collect stories of want, and conquest and take them to the locker rooms in our mind and compare them to the stories we heard in hockey rinks and school gyms. from uncles sharing beers or the feather haired ladies man of the neighbourhood. we collect them but never resolve the conflict that caused the desire to collect them and so we share them yet again with the young men and boys in our worlds (because they are non-threatening and fall below us in the order of things).

it becomes complex because there is biology involved as well, and dividing biological want from “manhood” want is like splitting atoms, or separating white wine from water. Photography brings yet another complication in that it echoes the unsatisfiable nature of that want. we can find ourselves entered into some childhood fantasy but we cannot consume it. it cannot enter us and become part of us. The want is never sated and the experience becomes trapped in the mind, both while its happening and once its expressed itself. it becomes deeply unhealthy and wildly destructive as we chase and chase that woman coming in and out of focus, emerging from the shadows and slipping gently back into them. We are with her for moments in our mind but never touch her in any meaningful way, never have our fill of her, never find resolution to the riddle. The results are horrific for men. Passing on real tangible pleasures and viable relationships at the merest whisper of her. The results for woman horrific as well. They find it nearly impossible to get a man to engage them as they are and operate on the mistaken assumption we are only interested in their body which creates friction that lets itself out in the ugliest ways, when in truth their bodies are often only potential keys to unlock a desire that previously confounded them but promises to be answered on your hip. We are with you, yet, without. the suffering for both sides is massive on a historical scale and punishing on an individual scale, and so far as i’ve searched i can find no resolution to wanting this creature whom i cannot touch, or love, or consume and even the wreckage i see behind me is a mild deterrent. a momentary deterrent until i become lost in her hair again. or convulse at the fold of her arm. or burn for the arch of her back.