An excess of SPAM

Alas no Friday rantathon today, as Rich is away on business. But when the boss is away, the minions do play, so as he isn't here to stop me, I'm going to indulge myself with a dodgy post. Apologies. Normal service will be restored shortly.


Some readers may have noticed that we’ve been sneaking in the occasional dodgy picture. This has happened for a reason.

About three months ago, my comfy-bear-zone, my inner moral judgment meter, simply vanished. I woke up one day and it was gone. Poof! Suddenly I had no discernable artistic morals. Poor Rich didn’t know what the hell had happened - suddenly his repressed and staid wife had turned into a model who was champing at the bit to explore her new boundaries. A model who was eager to tick the “higher” box on her modeling profile. In short…he had woken up to SPAM (Sad Porny Ancient Model.)

Poor Rich! Can you imagine just how strange this must have been to cope with? How challenging? This was the photographer whose personal comfort zones were originally waaay wider than mine. In fact I used to think he had no limits, and that I was significantly holding back his art. But then the roles reversed completely and suddenly. The poor chap didn’t know what hit him. He’s been humouring me so far, but I strongly suspect that nowadays his artistic taste definitions are much narrower than mine.

I’d love to say this epiphany was a result of some sort of higher spiritual awakening, or a sudden enlightenment. I’d love to say I suddenly achieved artistic kundalini. Heck, I thought I could even explain it by calling it a mid-life crisis! But alas it has turned out that it’s simply my trusty tumour, which is squishing the part of my brain that governs moral and artistic judgment.

Wow! Just how cool is that?! Imagine waking up one day and suddenly experiencing permanent removal of all the psychological barriers, all the social conditioning, all the stuff that tells you “nice girls don’t do this sort of thing - especially not middle aged yummy mummies!” But suddenly - my limits of defining nude art are gone! It’s a strange feeling to be sure. And not unpleasant - in fact, since this has happened, my modeling life has been a total hoot !

Now don’t get me wrong - I still think tacky, badly-shot porn is gross, but this is simply a personal judgement of style, not a moral objection. My division between eroticism, porn and “what is art?” has simply disappeared. It’s kind of like having a big light-bulb switch on in your head…suddenly absolutely everything can be classified as art, depending on how well it is shot. Quality rather than content. Of course this has been obvious to most of you for years, and certainly I knew this in theory, but I never really understood it properly until now.

Sure, erotic art is usually black and white, porn is colour, but there’s a heck of a lot more to it than that.
That morning three months ago, in a blinding flash of tumour-induced psychosis, I finally realised that porn, erotic art and “dodgy photography” were all one. I realised that good erotic art is all in the lighting, the angle and (most importantly) the TASTE of the image. I even “got” Mapplethorpe’s penis shots, which previously made me want to puke. Finally I realised what he was trying to say - I recognised the power and message in his work.

What makes those few square inches so off-limits to photography? Why the heck do people look at a close-up shot of a woman’s nether regions and think “ugh, that’s revolting?” It occurred to me that such revulsion to a normal and beautiful body part is simply a result of Western social conditioning. Westerners are simply not allowed to think such body areas are beautiful, or if they do, they’re not allowed to admit it, let alone paint or photograph it. This contrasts significantly with less developed societies, such as certain “undeveloped” tribes, who view the sexual organs as powerful expressions of beauty, the source from whence all life comes. These tribes freely depict sexual imagery in their art. They are surely more enlightened than us, who are repressed by centuries of religious and social bias. If a photographer shoots that sort of image nowadays, he usually dares not show it, for fear of being exiled, rejected, labeled as a pervert. All for choosing to show the power and beauty of sex.

Truly excellent erotic photography is simply a result of clever lighting techniques, how the model is positioned, combined with a good dollop of artistic imagination. Plus there‘s a high level of respect for the model required too. But if the photographer is skilled enough, if he has the vision, and if he has the highest standards of personal taste, those few square inches can be depicted as artistically as any other image adorning the walls of the National Gallery.

So I guess what I’m saying to all you gifted photographers out there is - Pussy Art can be good art too.

So go shoot pussy! Make it tasteful, make it powerful, let it express your inner desires and your vision, as well as reflecting the soul and beauty of the woman. And don’t be afraid to show it either! If people are repulsed by your art, that’s their problem, not yours. It’s simply because they haven’t risen beyond their social conditioning and personal limitations.

And maybe they are a little afraid of it too.



Our resident SPAM muses on her new career with a tasteful piece of elegant hand-blown glass.

(Boy, am I in trouble when he gets home tomorrow!)