Monthly Archives:

October 2017

25 Years of Sex & Erotica

Hard – very hard – to believe that this marks the 25th anniversary of Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book. What a heady time the fall of 1992 was – I still don’t know if I ever came to terms with that period of my life, and I’m certain no good would come of it making any sense at this point. Adolescence is a rocky time in one’s life – coupled with everything else a burgeoning gay boy goes through, it’s a wonder some of us survive (and the sad fact remains that some of us don’t). I don’t think I’ll ever know what got me through it, but I do know that part of it was thanks to Madonna.

The ‘Erotica’ period has a darker underside that I don’t always acknowledge. At the time of its release I was going through my own dark period, and in a weird way it kept me alive. I wanted to hear it. On one rainy night I held onto that thought as I careened through wet leaf-strewn roads and tear-stained eyes. I wanted to feel alive in the way that only Madonna’s music could make me feel. Most of us have one or two artists that do that for us, touching a chord that rings in the specific tone that feels destined only for own experience. Something in their delivery, and the way a song resonates at the exact point in time when it means the most. The right song at the right time can save your life.

Coming as it did as my own sexual self was awakening, I was not immune to the work at hand, nor was my cock immune to the stirrings of seeing those naked guys at the long-defunct Gaiety preen and pose in naked abandon. Sex was life. It was vital to it. It literally created it. The idea that Madonna’s book, and her whispered coos and orgasmic sighs on the ‘Erotica’ album, would elicit cum from men the world over was a thrill in and of itself. That both men and women would find a sort of orgiastic release from the joint project lent a hedonistic abandon to the whole affair, like some love-bead-festooned 60’s free-love-for-all fuck-fest in which we could all participate – jointly, singly, collectively.

It was there in the ‘Deeper and Deeper‘ video and its first live performance in The Girlie Show. It was there in the ‘Erotica’ video too, where peeks into the shooting of the ‘Sex’ book became a grainy art form in itself. It was there in Madonna’s Dita Parlo persona, presiding over proceedings with a whip and a gold-toothed smile, both in charge and demanding to be taken from behind.

At their gritty best, the ‘Sex’ book and ‘Erotica’ album personified a multi-faceted look at their subject matter – good, bad, ugly, uncomfortable, beautiful, tender, raw and rough – and most people couldn’t take such complexity without revealing their own discomfort with the idea that sex wasn’t necessarily dirty (or that its dirtiness was a form of gorgeousness). Today, the images are no more extreme than the ads that populate any number of fashion magazines, not to mention the veritable pornography on standard television.

Back then, though, ‘Sex’ was a big deal. For Madonna fans especially. My friend Ann’s mother had procured the book for me and I descended into my basement lair to view it in the bright and harsh double fluorescent tubes of the early 1990’s. Turning each page and taking in each image was an experience that was seering itself into my head. The smell of those stiff pages, the shiny cold metal of the covers, and the provocative poses within aroused all my senses. As the mylar-encased CD single of ‘Erotica’ played in the background, my mind journeyed with Madonna on her sexual adventures- from the dungeons of New York City to the tropical playground of the Florida shore – and the rapturous appreciation of such a work of art inspired me on a path that has led to all my creative endeavors, from writing to photography to this very blog.

‘Sex’ – the book – got everyone’s attention. It was the elusive party invite that everyone wanted but no one wanted to admit to wanting. Not unlike sex the act. Pretty genius on Madonna’s part, and everyone fell for it. The naked girl brings everyone to the door, but what’s going to keep us in the room? For me, it was the music. While lead single ‘Erotica’ was the headliner, it wasn’t close to being the strongest cut. That honor went to ‘Deeper and Deeper’, which picked up right where ‘Vogue’ left off, featuring a flamenco guitar bridge that impels the most staid person to move once that bass kicks back in. Let your body go with the flow, indeed. Giving ‘Deeper’ a run for its money, albeit a slower and more somber one, is ‘Rain’ – one of Madonna’s strongest ballads, and a beautiful foil for the heat and crackle of the album. Whereas tracks like ‘Fever‘ and ‘Thief of Hearts‘ burned, ‘Rain’ cooled and soothed the savage beast brought out by all the heavy breathing. ‘Bad Girl‘ tempered all the antics with a dose of self-blame and a brilliant David Fincher-directed video (with a guest turn by Christopher Walken no less). Deeper cuts like ‘Words‘ and ‘Secret Garden’ proved Madonna’s musical mettle and completed an album that was somewhat maligned on release, but that has proven a potent slice of 90’s dance-pop all these years later.

The backlash was swift and harsh. People get all bent out of shape when anyone steps beyond boundaries regarding America’s ridiculously puritanical public stance on sex. Madonna was attacked even more than usual, and this time some of it stuck, tarnishing her run as uncontested top-of-the-pop goddess. After the title track, the singles uncharacteristically stalled on the Billboard charts, failing to rise to her usual perch at number one. It was a career slump (even if it was a rather successful one at that) and the criticism seems to have stung Madonna more than usual. There’s sometimes a sad beauty to sex, so the dampening denouement felt like a fitting finale. It still couldn’t dim the fireworks that Madonna set off, and this period remains a favorite stretch for many a fan.

In my own life, it came at the jumping-off point for sexual exploration. It titillated in a safe masturbatory way, it took unabashed pleasure in itself, and it offered no apology for any of it. “A lot of people don’t say what they want,” Madonna wrote at the end of the book, “That’s why they don’t get what they want.” Simple and true, it was Madonna at her brazen best. Fuck you, literally, if you don’t want to get it. I was just beginning my trip down the rabbit’s hole of sexual wonderland. It was still shiny and new, but I now had markers and signifiers. I had hints of what sex was, stories and tales of arousal and excitement, images and songs of sexual events. Tied into love and romance, heartache and betrayal, sex was something sacred and serious, along with playful and fun. It was all there in the aural romp of the ‘Erotica’ album, there in the pages of ‘Sex’ – and if the woman whom I had idolized and worshipped could make matter-of-fact commentary on the subject, it might be safe to discuss all the questions and concerns I had.

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A Boo-tiful Event

One week from today, the Boo-jolais Vampire Ball swoops into the Albany Capital Center, promising a wicked night of delicious costumed devilry to kick off the Halloween season in high style. After trying out the costumed theme and shifting the date of this a few weeks earlier than previous years, it sounds like the Alliance for Positive Health has honed and refined the focus of this event, transforming it into a decadent Vampire Ball.

Albany is turning itself out for this evening, with local luminaries lending their culinary creations to the celebration at hand. The list is pretty impressive:

Also of note is the Silent Auction, which now includes a Tropical Island Getaway, a Mariah Carey Holiday concert, a weekend getaway at Gardner Farm Inn, a Burger 21 Food Truck party, a vodka tour and tasting, an Adirondack getaway at the Mirror Lake Inn, a day of pampering at Complexions Spa, and a Cocktail party put on by Experience & Creative Design. 

Bare your fangs, and whatever else you wish – costumes are especially encouraged and appreciated, but any fancy get-up will do. Get your Boo on and join us for the fun!

{Get tickets here}

 

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A Husband’s Birthday

Two score and a decade and half of years ago, a baby was born who would give his parents, myself, and everyone who knows him much joy. This is Andy’s birthday and, as is his desire, it will be a low-key event, without fanfare or pomp, but I’m still going to make some ado about it here because while he may not want a big bash, he’s more than worthy of some public gushing and online accolades. (He’s on Twitter and Instagram – @drewvanwagenen – so show him some birthday love and tell him I sent you.)

Since he’s not big on having his photo taken, he’s not on this site as often as he should be, but his spirit imbues just about everything I do, informing all of these posts in ways not often seen or blatantly explained. The truth is that I wouldn’t be half of who I am without him in my life, and maybe that should be said a little more often. Perhaps somewhat carelessly on my part, I’ve always assumed that everyone knew that. On this, his birthday, I’m taking a moment to confirm it.

Happy Birthday Drew – and many happy returns of the day!

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Wizardry Redux

We need more of this. 

Ease on down the yellow brick road with this amazing high school homecoming performance. 

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Leather & (Raspberry) Lace: Tom Ford’s Tuscan Leather

One of the very first Tom Ford Private Blends produced, and the most touted scent to the whole line back then was Tuscan Leather. It remains a cornerstone of this line, but it took me a long time to come around to it. It’s not a subtle one, and the first few years of sniffing it had me unconvinced. It was potent. It was loud. It was almost obnoxious. One would think I’d have loved it. One would be wrong. 

Fortunately taste and perception shift over the years. A good cologne will do that in a day. I never bothered with trying Tuscan Leather on and seeing how it dried down, I only took that initial oomph and steered clear. I missed the real magic of this stalwart performer until I threw a ‘Naughty or Nice’ party with S&M leather undertones and finally got around to sampling this fragrance for a full night.

It begins in unapologetic fashion with the cracking of a leather whip.

Some leather is stiff. Worn by the years, faded by the sun and wind, it dries out, stiffens up, and stands on its own. It hits hard because that’s the only way to survive.

Some leather is supple. Processed and delicately treated, it spills and folds like the softest silk. It kisses and caresses the skin, hiding its toughness in flowing elegance, cloaking its delicacy in shrouds of smoothness.

Tuscan Leather gives both of these aspects a delicious turn, beginning in tough, cowboy-boot stomping glory and finishing with a sweetly refined send-off.

This is not a scent for the faint of heart or weak of nose. That opening is no joke, and as one of the very first Private Blends, Tom Ford was announcing he didn’t come to play. Tuscan Leather is a complex, challenging, and ultimately exquisite experience that may have some shying away from its harsher points. Those who want a true fragrance journey should board this wild ride and prepare for glory.

Starting off with a heavy jolt of its namesake, leather plays a primal part in the proceedings. Though I usually think of leather as one of the lasting aspects that shows up rather late in the dry down, here it announces itself front and center, and stays there for the greater part of the show. A smokiness pervades as things progress, lending dark beauty and potent mysticism with just the slightest hint of incense, courtesy of the olibanum. The official literature for Tuscan Leather lists black suede as part of the formula, giving it a hedonistic edge. It verges on going musky, but is pulled back by night blooming jasmine, which claps back with its own sweetness, bravely defying all the harder elements at work. The juxtaposition is delicious, and results in one of the most beautiful dry-downs of all time: a luscious raspberry-like sweetness that somehow retains all the rustic leathery goodness of the beginning.

Sillage and projection is powerful – do not go heavy on this, especially in an office environment – and its duration is a good six to eight hours (with the dry down lingering into the next day if you let it).

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October’s Bright Balmy Recap

With the weather this far from frightful, I’m grateful for the bonus days of balmy weather. Though it’s scheduled to depart by the time this post goes up, at the time of its writing its warm enough to swim. More on that to come, perhaps. For now, the weekly recap before my mid-week-weekend break. 

We began peering in on how two straight guys end up exchanging phone numbers

Fifty shades of shirtlessness with Jamie Dornan. 

I found this heart in need of a home

The days of dahlias

Revisiting our fall family trip to Ogunquit

True blue baby

Pietro Boselli, Alexander SkarsgÃ¥rd, Derek Yates, Cameron Dallas, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, Nick Jonas, Adam Driver, Giles Marini and Calvin Harris in all their shirtless black and white glory

Super-saturated colorful mayhem

A magical moon rising over Maine. 

The Madonna Timeline will be coming back in a big way... but these things must be done delicately. 

Hunks of the Day included Lotan Carter, Brett Edward Stout, Aron Baynes, and Nick Muscardo.

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Harvest Moon Over Maine

Looking out from the start of the Marginal Way, we take in the view of the moon as it reflects over the eastern seaboard. Framed by clouds and cradled by the sea, the moon hovers and disseminates its magic along the shore, sprinkling fairy dust and sparkling gypsy water in its wake. This is the Harvest Moon, I’m told – aptly named from the time when it aided farmers in gathering their harvests late into the night.

I use its light to harvest memories – of trips to Maine, of childhood adventures, of misunderstandings, of beauty and happiness. I also use it to make a new one: spying this spectacular moon with my parents and my husband, on a balmy October evening after a family dinner in Ogunquit. (Add it to the list of happy ones.)

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Guess the Next Madonna Timeline

The time has come for another iTunes Madonna shuffle, and the next entry on the Madonna Timeline. After ‘Body Shop‘ strummed its last banjo note, I watched as the randomness of the universe moved to an epic entry, and one that occupies the top trio tier of my favorite Madonna songs. I suppose I should give the top-ten run-down at this point, as they’ve all been showcased here:

  1. Drowned World/Substitute for Love
  2. Like A Prayer
  3. {To Be Announced}
  4. Express Yourself
  5. Crazy For You
  6. Music
  7. Rebel Heart
  8. Material Girl
  9. Rain
  10. Ray of Light

The bottom five of these stellar selections are still pretty malleable and ever-shifting. An artist like Madonna moves and bends with the times, and her body of work does the same. Certain melodies linger, specific lyrics speak with greater resonance, and what moves me one day might not move me as much the next. As for #3, I’m going to take my time with it. (There’s not much of a guessing game here if you think about it.) It remains a classic, and has so many iterations and memories attached to it that it will require some organization (and even then it’s going to have to be a multi-part timeline). Passive readers and those uninterested in Madonna need not return!

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All-Natural Super-Saturation

As much as I abhor photoshopping pictures, on my Instagram I tend to add a little boost of saturation to some of my nature shots. What can I say? I love color, and sometimes the intensity is lost in the lighting or shaky camera work. For these photos, no such amendments were necessary, supporting proof of my theory that flowers in the fall glow more brilliantly than at any other time of the year.

This simple Pelargonium veritably thrills with its neon-like sparkle. It sat in a lowly pot with another annual that had long passed its prime, but this one kept going, shining brightly until the first hard frost will finally strike it down.

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Artful Shirtlessness

No matter how sinfully salacious or purportedly provocative a photograph might be, the moment the color is drained from it suddenly turns it into art. The images in this post are proof of that, as they feature various former Hunks of the Day in states of shirtless and shameless glee. First up, front and back, is Pietro Boselli. He’s not only been a Hunk of the Day, but has also been featured numerous times in states of underwear and states of undress, posing in his second Hunk of the Day honor. 

Recent HOD Cameron Dallas shows how low his Calvins go, much as he teased in this post.

Alexander SkarsgÃ¥rd strikes a quirky if smoldering pose in his tighty-whities, but he went full-on starkers for hi Hunk of the Day post. Derek Yates continues the sultry vision that he began in his first Hunk of the Day post (and his second). 

Mark-Paul Gosselaar flashed his bodacious booty in his virgin Hunk of the Day crowning

Nick Jonas has been here far too many times to list all the links, so do me (and yourself) a favor by typing his name into the Search feature at the bottom left and see what he brings up. It will be worth it, trust me. 

Adam Driver channels his sexy rub-a-dub-dub side here, as he did in his last Hunk of the Day feature (check out his first HOD post here). Giles Marini hasn’t yet been featured (or if he has, that post has gone by the wayside). Here’s a pic of him nonetheless. 

Finally, a little GIF for any Calvin Harris lovers out there. In case his original Hunk of the Day post doesn’t quench the thirst, there’s also this brief-clad one.

 

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True Blue Blossom

It is often said that there are no true-blue flowers in the natural world. I’d fallen for this notion over the years, perpetuating the idea and even making vague plans to seek out the closest we could get (the elusive Himalayan blue poppy), yet it appears there are such hues, as this salvia begs to differ. Check out the vibrant blue tones here, in unfiltered, un-additionally-saturated form. It’s nice when the universe defies humankind’s stories. It keeps me on my toes. {Insert ‘Black Swan’ reference here.}

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A Brief Ogunquit Revisit

If you’ve been following this blog for any decent length of time you are already accustomed to our twice-annual sojourns to this Beautiful Place By The Sea. This year we closed out the season with a long Columbus Day weekend, but rather than take you through a multi-post recap of what went on every stage of the trip, this sole post will have to suffice.

Carrying on with my self-imposed backing-away from non-stop blogging (hello dash-happy sentence), I decided to reclaim my vacation time as well, which meant less documenting every minute and instead living in each moment. I left the real camera at home and did just fine with the iPhone to convey brief glimpses of our time there

 

These pics tell a vague story, hinting at the fun and enjoyment we experienced, while allowing you to conjure your own fall trip connotations. This is one of my favorite times of the year to be in Maine. Spring carries its excitement and the promise of a summer to come, but there’s something more moving and beautiful about the fall, when we are ready to put everything to bed for the winter slumber. The prettiness of the pumpkins and the colorful cacophony of the chrysanthemums are not long for this world, so we value them a little more. We pause instead of rushing by. We know what winter may bring. 

 

 

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Gay Blog

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Questions?

PS – It’s a gay blog. 

PPS – Gay blog.

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Dahlia Days

The extended warmth of this fall season has produced a bountiful crop of dahlia blooms. I have a soft-spot in my heart for this flower, for myriad reasons. It was one of the first plants I ever planted and grew in the little side garden that my parents allotted for me. I watered and weeded and took care of them for the entire summer, wondering when they would deign to bloom. The payoff came later, but was worth it as shades of crimson and peach and lemon yellow exploded as the school year was about to begin. I wouldn’t grow them again for a long time; that was too long to wait for such color, and the idea of waiting until school began to enjoy a bloom sucked the fun out of it.

These days, I still find their blooming period a little too late. By this stage I’m ready to shift focus indoors. However, this year has kept us out later than normal, and it’s always nice to see how others have employed such a lovely garden plant.

Here, the late morning light softens the saturated glow of the dahlia’s fiery petals.

 

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A Home for This Heart

It peeked out at me from behind a bush as I hurried by on lunch one day. A bit of a wink and the slightest wave was enough to make me take notice and pause in my tracks. Looking around in case this was a trick, I walked onward, making the promise to stop on my way back to work. I needed a coffee and a reading break to determine whether it was worth the investment. I also wanted to see if someone else stopped and fell for the thing. I like to give the universe the option to correct itself in case its motions weren’t meant for me. 

I finished my coffee at Stacks and walked back in the fall sunshine. This was what made the Northeast worthwhile – these sunny October days that felt balmy and bright, like the winter might not come this year. We suspend our belief at such moment. We believe instead in what feels best. In this suspended state, I returned to see this little heart still dangling from an azalea bush in downtown Albany. 

It was one of those things that longed to be found, but only by the observant person who happened to care enough to look out for it. When I was a kid, I once found a fallen Mylar balloon near our backyard, stuck on a rusty wire fence, still halfway floating, still halfway trying to get away and rise. I freed it and carried it back home, fighting off a few neighborhood kids who had seen the treasure and tried to take it from me. (Well, maybe not fighting as much as arguing and running.) On this day, no one fought me as I free the little heart from its azalea entanglement. 

A fabric notion built on whimsy and wishes, it came with an online promotional message as well. “I need a home,” it implored on its tiny tag, and my own heart broke a little. Someone has sewn this. Someone had cut it out. Someone had attached a pretty ribbon and had the faith and hope to hang it here. And someone counted on someone else to find it. A simple instruction was printed on the tag: Report this heart: www.ifoundaquiltedheart.com

A sign of the times: a hand-made quilted heart with a social media connection. Looking it up online a few days later, I found a quirky little enterprise that’s about sewing (and sowing) these little hearts simply for the sake of brightening someone else’s day. And if it worked on a cynical guy like myself, I imagine it’s doing wonders for others in Albany and elsewhere. I may even dust off my sewing skills and contribute. 

On the front, amid the quilted chaos contained in the shape of a heart, was a simple sewn-on message: you are loved. The power of that is enough to change the world. 

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