My body is mine to politic and expose (or not) as I see fit – for a good cause, for a profit, or just for a good time.
My gratitude to the well-meaning person who elicited that response from me today.
The question was about burlesque and women putting their bodies on display in the context of historical objectification of women’s bodies. I felt there was an implication that woman-identified performers aren’t aware they’re part of a bigger game.
I’ve been speaking to that a LOT since I had the nerve to put tits and libraries in the same event. In general I take that to be a sign of success – I am very clearly reaching a new audience, wonderful. It’s also rawther humorous to me, because the one thing I don’t do in our show is take my clothes off. I simply haven’t the requisite skill with choreography, the dedication to that craft, or anything remotely approximating the coordination to take clothes off while dancing.
This is mostly a note to myself. I’m pretty sure this is going to come up again and again, as the images from my first foray into amateur fetish and erotic photo modeling go on display in the gallery on Sunday.
It’s my body. I can trot it out at a play party for beatings. I can cover it in glitter and fawn over Daddy while making schmoopy faces. I can charge you money to slap you in the face with my heavy, pendulous breasts while looking totally disinterested and eating only the clear-flavored gummi bears. I can keep it covered head to toe in hoodie-footie PJs. I can give it away for free, I can keep it sacred and just for me. Hell, I can charge myself to masturbate, might be a fascinating savings plan. Put a quarter in the jar before you get the dildo out, shiny.
I use my body to craft change within myself, and in the world around me. A choice, all mine.
My body is mine to politic and expose (or not) as I see fit – for a good cause, for a profit, or just for a good time. I see your institution, and I give it the middle finger.