Dorothy caught in the tornado of her own ecstasy.
As if just being Susie Bright didn’t make her cool enough,everyone’s favorite sexpert has an interview with one of my other literary heroes, Alan Moore, about The Lost Girls, which I blogged about before. Susie gets to have all the fun. Dammit. She’s also put together a Flickr gallery of Melinda Gebbie’s work. I’ve never seen Gebbie’s stuff before, but the excerpts from The Lost Girls are breathtaking examples of erotic art. The problem with trying to portray eroticism is that you’re trying to capture an incomprehensible mix of contradictions; our society is big on the idea that mind and body are two entirely different things; the body is just a meat vehicle for the mind, which is the real “you.” Sex gives the lie to that. Men’s tendency to name their cocks and call them the “little head” is a good example of how divorced our sense of self is from our physical being. Gebbie’s art — for instance, her depiction of Dorothy captured in a swirling orgasmic “tornado” that turns her sense of reality upside down — is sensual, colorful, and shows how sex merges the fantastic and the real, and how inseperable it makes your body and mind.
This is going to be a hell of a book. I can’t wait to get my hands on it.
