art-history:

Annie Leibovitz, Keith Haring, 1987 

thegirlwhoatethemoon:

homotography:

Jarrett Moreland by Rick Day

I don’t get it.  Well, actually I do.  The coded message here says, all at once, that:

• I am strong, muscular, and defined by the concavity of my flesh;
• I am prone, lithe, and ready to be penetrated;
• I am roughly hewn, sandpapery, ready for battle;
• I am boyish—I lack body hair, a sign of manhood, and I am leaning on a skateboard, something twelve year olds do;
• My penis size is unimportant because I, to some degree, want the viewer to either be in love with me (thus fantasizing whatever penis I could have according to their preference) OR to want to become me, inserting their own penis into this image which represents their desired body and form;
• I am white—my skin color gives me access to institutions of power more readily that that of someone of color;
• I am tan—I can take on the bonuses of the fetishizing of exotic flesh without losing my white privilege;
• I am the object of desire—people want me or want to become me;
• I am the object of jealousy—people detest me for what they do not have [my body].

So actually, I do get it.  I get it a lot I think.  What I don’t get is why this image is what defines gay male masculinity.  Or rather, why this image and images like it are allowed to define what gay male masculinity should look like.  I don’t get why this image, and others like it, force gay men into this peculiar box, inside of which one must unite so many diverging identities. Men, and gay men in particular, suffer from the curse of this image, which is not unlike the dichotomy thrusted upon women, who are forced to play the roles of both virgin and whore.  The timbre of the gay male identity (which is at least in part represented by this image because it comes from Homotography, a site well-known for being a source of artistic, homoaffectional and -erotic imagery on the Net), however, takes a different shape.  Whereas a woman must always teeter between the borders of (a) being pedestalized into virginal innocence and (b) submitting to the sinful will of her many male partners, a gay man, as he is described by the images of him that prevail throughout society, must teeter forever between youth and maturity.  He, with one leg clothed and one leg exposed, teeters forever between hairless boyhood and crude manhood—and, in a state of suspended adolescence, can never truly grow up unless he sacrifices

1. His desire to fuck only this man.
2. His desire to become only this man.

My frustration with this image and images like has begun to transform itself into compassion.  It must be an agonizing feeling to be set free from the chains of one kind of masculinity, which must shelter, seminate, and sustain for the remainder of his life—only to be bound down to an identity where so many conflicts exist.  I, as a woman, can relate to being held to contradicting expectations.  It becomes a personal decision then, whether to engage in the system of privilege that fuels this image or to attempt the process of destablizing and transcending that very system.  In the same way that I, and my feminist heroes too, collude, passively and actively, to the dynamics of privilege and oppression that keep us teetering, so I see that our gay brothers aren’t so free themselves either.

Add this 4:30 AM analysis to the list of reasons why I need to be in Grad school.

(Source: textsfromhillaryclinton)

get involved

www.now.org
www.rawa.org
www.womenslaw.org
www.amnestyusa.org
www.globalissues.org
www.globalfundforwomen.org

(via lafilleenfeu)

(via yellowdiamondsinthenight)