An Intimate Crash

My Dearest,

Here starts our story. At least, I imagine so. I would say some mysterious words to turn you on. I will guide you through the shadows of my secret garden. Then in my library, my art studio, and bedroom…

This bi-monthly newsletter is a diary of what's turn me on. It will be quick to read. Something like 2 ideas in 2 minutes. For this first shot, it will be Intimate and Crash. The title always says it all!

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Intimate

Beyond pleasure, beyond pain, beyond obsession…

Enjoy this newsletter as the intimate extension of my art pleasures. Instead of sending my tweets in darkness, here I can almost see you. We can email each other to say Hello, using our names.

I will talk in a more personal way about my sketches, my inspirations, my kinks. Let's give ourselves six months as a first shot. And, as a reader, tell me everything you want, what do you think?

The fucked fucker is back!

Crash

Yes! I am excited by this thing involving sexual arousal from staging and watching disasters, such as traffic collisions. And the film Crash filmed by Cronenberg is a pure controversial beauty.

The original story is a novel by J. G. Ballard, first published in 1973. It is about symphorophilia, basically a car-crash sexual fetishism. Ballard himself explains it very well in a short film.

Crash! (1971) by J. G. Ballard directed by Harley Coklisswith, J. G. Ballard and Gabrielle Drake

On Twitter, I love the aesthetic of naked selfies taken in a car. It is kind of a combination of public exposure, cruiser experience, and parking boredom. With this erotic risk of being caught…

In my last story Little Death, I picture the power of the mistress and the car, both associated in a dramatic event: Where the dominatrix knows how to crash the car to harm her slave only.

Here ends the first issue! Next one will be named A Bizarre Torment…

Love always,

Sissi