...A very good friend of mine just paid me the high compliment of asking me to contribute to a literary erotica website she's setting up. Kathy believes that there's a massive, untapped potential market for erotica that's intelligent, highly developed, well-written, daring. Something beyond simply crass prurience. It's something I've never tried before; thus, it's necessarily something I want to do.
As I was speaking with Kathy about working on this project, I was reminded of our conversations months ago about moving to New York. To me, the gestures are similar--confiding our ambitions with one another speaks to the breadth and depth of a true friendship. Collaboration is the coin of mutual regard. Even when these things are merely chimeras of hope, they still mean much to me.
I've never worked on anything overtly erotic before. Of course, we've all had our daydreams, and the veiled intentions we ourselves hardly suspect; the patterns we imagine in the precisely careless movements of strangers. Who is not well-acquainted with the sheer sophistication of our hapless fantasies? The invitation to spell all this out is just as transgressively satisfying for me as though I were asked about the unsavory history of my family. Perhaps more so. (Of course, more so.)
Now when I think of New York, I'm no longer struck by the inconceivability of such ambitions. It's true that I'm unemployed at the moment; it's true that there are any number of rational arguments to be made against this prospect of who I am and who I intend to be--prospects, incidentally, that in no way present themselves so clearly as to actually be useful. But my images of myself are compelling enough to clearly militate against the creeping despondencies that arise when you know you've stayed too long in the same place.
I'm primed and hungry and impatient to reconfigure the very terms in which I deal with the world; I see this hunger as both a cause and a product of the sea-changes all around me.
In this manner, adrift on the surging tides of expectation, from time to time I wonder after your own doings; I wonder how similar confrontations unspool in your own expert hands. (Often I wish I had the benefit of your knowing poise.)
I hope this finds you well and thriving, as ever. Drop me a line when you can.
pink cadillac loving,
pjs
1 comment:
Unemployed is good. You’ll find lots of cool things to do.
My fingers gently caress the keys as I fantasize about penetrating the long fibre-optic cable with streams of information. I press “Enter”, my shoulders tense and the font explodes in an orgasmic cluster of pixels.
Have fun eroticizing.
Post a Comment