Earlier this week I wrote my Kink of the Week piece about crawling however when I stumbled across this image on my computer I realised that I had missed something out of that post about crawling around being dirty, not in the suggestive sense of that word but the literal sense. Crawling around in the dirt, being dirty, getting it on my skin, feeling the grit dig into my knees and the mud drying on my skin is oddly incredibly hot to me. I am not even sure I have the words to explain why that is apart from to say that there is something very raw and basic about it that works for me. Now I have no desire to do it just for the sake of doing it. You are not going to find my just crawling around in the mud and the dirt just because, but the idea of being chased through the woods, falling in the dirt and the mud, getting it on my hands and face and knees as I scrabble to get away turns me the hell on.
This image however is a bit challenging for me. It is has languished in my ‘to be published’ folder for a while now. It is one of a series of images I took in this location three of which I have already published here (Write On…, Red Raw and Held Captive but this one I have kept to myself for a couple of reasons.
1. Because I had just not found a topic or post to go with it.
2. Because there are things about the way my body looks in it that makes me uncomfortable.
For some reason the light, and I think, the dirt on my skin makes it look like I have a weirdly lumpy inner thigh and also the pose and angle of the shot makes my bum look, umm, rather substantial, not that there is anything wrong with a substantial bum mind you but in this image I feel like it looks oddly out of proportion to the rest of me.
However, and here is where the model and the photographer in me go to battle, as the photographer (yes this is a self-portrait) I think this is fucking awesome image. I love how I have captured the textures of the ground and the griminess of the wall, I love the way the light plays along my back and thigh and the way the dirt looks on my skin and despite what I wrote about my body I love the pose, there is something incredibly primal about it that feels both right and deliciously wrong in this setting.
So despite the model in me cringing, the photographer in me loves this image because it captures exactly what I have written about above, the dirt, the desperation, the fight, the disgusting wrongness of it all that actually makes for a quite challenging possibly even disturbing image but for me fills my mind with thoughts of torn clothes, blooded knees, matted hair and tear-stained dirty cheeks that makes me want to go and have a wank.
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