My Sex Art
Whether it is scenic, textual, sound, visual or graphic, my art is exclusively sexual. It is rooted in a fascination with our bodies.
masturbation
Whether it is scenic, textual, sound, visual or graphic, my art is exclusively sexual. It is rooted in a fascination with our bodies.
My cock jerked off. Appearance soft or carnally aggressive, shocking, the urge to suck undulates. "Say, draw me a penis! »
Oh, my sex, you coppery piece of meat! Hey you! Touch her. That's how the body is made. To deny it is pure nonsense. Whether you like it or not.
I saw the penis, the little sister of a wanker, and from the height of its erect shaft, it said to me: "Eat, this is my sex! Drink, this is my sperm".
My pornography is the rejoicing space of my excitement and the voluptuous retreat of my tranquility. It is the sunny resort of my thoughts.
My dick is my friend. It's my boy's prerogative. I like to be what I am in the first place. I love my erect sex as much as I love my flaccid sex.
I make my soil fertile and exhaust my need to write, which is like a surplus of seed. Every day I unload a full bucket of it into these pages.
An ode to the exhibition in the form of an initiatory journey. The fantastical universe of a man subjected to his sex and his journey towards his desire for nudity.
Single images / Multiple images / Sober images / Dirty images / I dream of audible images on vast, taut skins that would resonate with their senses
To decry sexual exhibition is to deny the reality of coitus, the most banal of our realities, in favour of an illusion of self, the mother of all violence.