October - November 2001
Exposed
We think of masturbation as a solitary act, but it did not
start that way. We begin masturbating far before we're aware
of what it is, and in the presence of, or awareness of, our parents,
siblings and other caregivers. Their feelings toward us and our
perceptions of what they think, profoundly shape how we relate
to ourselves, and by extension, to others.
Self-exploration, it would seem, is about relationships. We've
all experienced the strangeness, shame and guilt when masturbating,
at the thought: what would so-and-so think if they knew I was
doing this?
Yet I believe this reveals that we need to be seen, felt and
understood by others as we are, as vulnerable, raw and embarrassing
as such experiences may be -- and we know it. We live in a world
that seems to force us to lie, to conceal ourselves, and to reduce
ourselves to nothing.
I know that many people crave a glimpse of what it might mean
to be acknowledged, to free up that inner Self trapped at the
holy core. This is surrender. I think everyone knows that carrying
inhibitions chokes off our life force. Many of these feelings
involve our erotic life, but they extend far beyond it. With
an experimental view of sex, a sense of humor and a touch of
adventurous spirit, it's quite a journey to let these feelings
free.
I embarked on one such experiment with one male friend and
three female friends in 1999. Two were accomplished photographers
with very different styles. All of us were learning to be less
inhibited. We created a series of photo sessions documenting
one another's masturbation. I don't know what this sounds like
to someone who has never tried it, but most of us found it pretty
easy to let go, including a friend visiting from Japan who was
just loosening up some pretty tight inhibitions and modesty.
She participated in one session as a model, including a series
of her masturbating in front of an 80-year-old mirror.
In one early session, I was photographed by my friend Neal,
someone I'd known for about 12 years and never had a sexual relationship
with. It was just the two of us in my room, which was set up
as a studio, with medium-format cameras and fashion strobes.
Add a little atmospheric and mood enhancement, and we were off.
I started fully dressed and ended up in a wild frenzy of self-disclosure.
I cannot begin to express the range of emotions I had experienced
in those 75 minutes during the slow unraveling of my pleasure
and self-exploration, in front of a close male friend, as each
move was being documented. Eagerness, fear, passion, inhibition,
disgust, joy, shame and raging erotic fire all came forth. For
the most part, I related to myself aware of Neal, but not directly
interacting with him; I just did what I needed, or did what felt
good, and got lost in myself as the flash system went off again
and again. But at other times, I was fully conscious of showing
him something that it felt very good to reveal. At one point
he held up a mirror so that I could see something of what he
was seeing. What I can say is I eventually reached a state of
mind in which embarrassment was obliterated. The only descriptions
I've heard of similar experiences came from women who gave birth
with their family in the room.
When I was ready to surrender, the experience was a moment
of totality, where all I could do was release control and dive
into the experience. Kneeling up, penetrated, more turned on
than I can express, I came into my palm as my face was documented
in mid-orgasm four times. Then he photographed my hand. I smelled
and tasted my semen. I collapsed in delighted exhaustion.
{Months later from the original writing, I will share this
email to Neal with you:}
I just want to say that it was beautiful masturbating in
front of you and
your camera. In retrospect it fulfilled a long and deep need:
you, with your
presence, fulfilled this. I felt so good exposing my yearning
and desire to
you.
Going over the photos was another kind of journey for all
of us because they were seen days later, in a normal state of
mind, not the altered state of ecstatic Eros. As you can imagine,
it's not entirely comfortable, but one has no choice at that
point; there are the pictures. Have a look, and then it's amazing.
We discussed them openly, with all the feelings accompanying.
The fact that the images exist means that there is no longer
any hope or possibility that my self-given pleasure can be strictly
private or denied. And the change that this required, the adjustment
of reality, went deep into me and affected every part of my life.
In that photo session with Neal, a sample of which is above,
I let go of something deep and dark and freed my spirit one more
time, one more way.
One of the more deeply moving experiences has been getting
acquainted with the image of my face in orgasm, learning to cross
some kind of inner abyss that separates me from my completion,
and love the man I see.