dimanche 30 juin 2013

Bonheur


"Il ne me faut que toi pour être heureux, toi, qui me tiendras entre tes bras...
Je désire te sentir si chaud contre mon dos, je désire sentir tes bras caressant ma poitrine...
Je voudrais me laisser aller contre toi, entre tes bras, et laisser ma main caresser ta cuisse...

Je désire sentir ton corps palpiter et respirer contre moi, et sentir la douce chaleur de ton amour...
Je n'aurai pas les mots pour le dire, les mots pour te dire, j'aurais les mots à la bouche, sans doute,
Pour te dire combien je t'aime, non seulement le corps fraternel et aimant, mais l'âme soeur....

J'aimerais m'abandonner entre tes bras, le temps d'un sourire, le temps d'un soupir,
Tandis que tu me caresses lentement, doucement, tandis que je sens la montée de ton désir...
J'aimerais cette liberté ultime où deux garçons caressent leurs corps et unissent leurs âmes...

Pourquoi ne t'ai-je pas encore rencontré, toi, mon aimé, mon élu, mon amant tant rêvé ?
Est-ce pour que je chante l'amant, l'amour, les caresses, le corps et le coeur de celui que je désire ?
Viendras-tu à moi un jour, me caresser tendrement, ou dois-je chanter ma solitude pour toujours ?"

Mark Daschenbach

iconic pic


This is a beautiful, a fascinating pic... It provides the viewer with an unusual perspective over a boy's torso and face... It put the emphasis on the pink flower flourishing upon this boy's milky chest... This milky chest is framed by a white shirt, by a black light jacket, unbuttoned... There is something like a fetishist fascination in the rendering of the black and white cloth caressing the smooth and milky skin....

Few pics succeed in displaying what a boy's pleasure is about... Eyes closed, lips half open... What this boy feels cannot be described or explained... And at the same time, his face mirrors the infinite of pleasure and ecstasy, this inner journey towards a world where all borders are erased, worn off, borders between mind and body, between surface and depth, between me and you...

Such a pic is highly subversive... It is like a map of these secret and remote areas where a
 human being reaches the infinite, the ultimate experience... Pleasure is like death: an experience where one is alone, although pleasure can be shared with a lover and a loved one...

Sensual curves


Eros

Is it possible to draw and to paint such an exquisite and sensual young male body without desiring such a beauty, such bodies ? Wings and Classical mythology made acceptable such a fascination and a sensual rendering of teen boys grace and erotic power....

Digital Narcissus


Do we still need gay photographers today ? The most mysterious, sensual, teasing and sensitive photographs of boys are self-pics... Mobile phones and their cameras, a mirror, a bathroom or a bedroom, where one can undress safely...

Through self-pics, boys are looking at themselves through the screen of a digital camera, they are trying to catch the essence of their identity and  character, they are staging their face, their body, their beauty, their sexual attractiveness. Self-pics are so intimate, so private, so personal... and it is a paradox they are flooding social networks, facebook pages, blogs and web sites...

Each boy is unique, although self-pics could be organized in a few categories, according to the set up of the photograph, to the way the boy looks or not at the camera instead of the mirror, according to the parts of his body he chose to display or to conceal...

I love this self-pic for the deep, serious and focused face expression of this cute boy... I love also the beautiful and artistic light emphasizing his body, his muscles...

This self-pic summarizes the quintessence of teen boys beauty and poetry...

Grin


samedi 29 juin 2013

Art of kissing


A boy's face with a necklace


Iconic pic


I love this pic... I love this boy... I love the way this pic displays what a teen boy's beauty is about...

Who else than a teen boy would feel so involved in a race ?

I love what this pic tells us about this boy's energy, about what provides him with that energy...

There is so much desire expressed in this boy's pic: desire to win, desire to run until his last limits...

Ahmed

"My dear Ahmed,

I post this pic of yours with your permission, and I even use your true name, since you told me you would be too proud to have our love story ever published...

It was a few years ago, during the spring, in this beautiful city of Marocco... I spent a few days of vacations here, in my favorite hotel, I wanted to start writing a new novel my publisher was waiting for...

I hoped to find inspiration while walking along the seashore, while sitting under a palm-tree, while relaxing at the swimming-pool of my hotel, while wandering through the alleys of the old city...

I met you there... You were such a cute and a desirable boy, at the peak of his youth, of his beauty... I looked at you... You looked at me... I turned around and I looked at you again... You turned around, and you looked at me, and you smiled... And you said: "Hello..."

I said "Hello" too, and I smiled back... You were so gorgeous, so cute, a golden boy tanned by a golden sun, you had the dark eyes, the shining smile, the teen grace that were enough to make you desirable for anyone not totally insensitive to boys beauty...

"What is your name ?" — "Ahmed, and yours ?" — "Mark..." — "As-salâmou 'alaikoum !"

I smiled... you were definitely a cute, a very desirable boy... You had such a lovely grin... And I was able to see, through your open shirt, such a smooth, a hairless, a tanned chest and torso...

"Mark, may I guide you through the old city ? I know all the alleys, all the inner gardens, I will show you what tourists usually don't see..."

"Ahmed, I have already seen you, your grin, your beauty... I guess very few tourists noticed them, since you are available to me, here and now..."

The both of us bursted out laughing...

You said... "Mark, are you... ?" — I answered: "And you, Ahmed, are you insensitive to men who are... ?"

We laughed again... But you teased me so much with the way you put your hand on your zipper that I had no doubt about your answer...

We walked for hours through the medina, and thanks to you, I have seen so many unexpected houses, doors, inner gardens, shops, terraces....

I don't know where the first caress came from... I don't know where the first kiss came from... I don't know who pulled your blue shorts down.. You or me ?

I don't remember if I kissed you first, of if I caressed your tighs before...

I don't remember if we were in my hotel room, on my bed, or if we made love against a white wall, in a quiet alley, in the deep of the night...

But I still feel the taste of your lips, I still hear the sensual music of your groans, I steel feel the warmth of your chest and the fever of your arms and legs...

I still remember the hot, wet and so intimate fluids we shared, in the deep of this night, in the night we made love for the first time..."

Fragment of a novel

About a boy with blond hairs, with a grey T-shirt, reclining on a sofa

Is it natural light ? Or light from a lamp ?

I love the way light plays with the hairs of this boy and provides them with a golden color...

I love the way light creates a shade over his eyes, and contribute to give them a deep and melancholic expression...

I cannot resist against the way light caresses his lips and so delicately emphasizes their outline, their pink sweetness...

The tender shapes of this boy's smooth cheeks and chin, his neck too are enlightened by a gentle light that seems to have fingers, because it has such a sensual way to caress his skin and his T-shirt...

If there was no light, nobody would find boys desirable and beautiful...

One should ban light forever...

So nobody would look at beauty and feel desire...

X-Files of desire


When I look at the pic of a beautiful boy, at a pic that inspires me desire, at a boy I could fall in love with, I love to let my thoughts, dreams, ideas and feelings wonder...

I love to look at this pic, at this boy, with a caressing gaze, with the gaze of a lover...

While looking at this beautiful boy, with his torso offered to desire and caresses, I just realized how much symmetry mattered in a human body... It is an organizing principe, it structures the body and the way one looks at it...

Two eyes, two nostrils, one mouth, but two lips... One mouth, but two lips... A kiss unites four lips and two mouths... And two breathes...

And two pink tits, but one belly button...

I am fascinated by this pattern of symmetry...

Two eyes, one mouth, two tits... In my intimate geography of desire, of my gay desire, the invisible lines between eyes and tits, crossing over the lips, draw a X... X, as in X-files... The X-files of my desire...

vendredi 28 juin 2013

Temptation

Who could resist ?
Is there anyone who does not dream about crossing the frame of this pic
And joining you, on the golden sand, in the warm water...?

Of course, you will be surprised: "How did you... ?"
But I will tell you: "Sssssht... Sometimes, when one desires something very much,
This desire can be fulfilled, such is the power of dreams...

I will start caressing your hairs and your beautiful face,
From your eyebrows to your chin, from your ears to your smooth lips,
And then, my hand will slowly explore your tanned torso, 

And your arms, and your shoulders, and your underarms, and bellybutton...
Will this light, blue and wet swimsuit resist against my loving hand ?
A first finger, then two and three will gently slip into it....

But it is time, already, to take you between my two arms, and to gently caress your whole body,
It is time for a first and a long kiss and I love the taste of sun and sea on your lips,
It is time for the waves of desire, for the tides of pleasure...

Blond boy with unbuttoned jeans


About a boy with a crown of flowers

My sweet friend, my loved one, my soul mate,
I will wreathe a crown of flowers for your delicate hairs,
When you will be lying face up on a white sheet for your last sleep,

My sweet friend, my loved one, my soul mate,
Rest in peace among the flowers of your blossoming youth,
You will be young for ever for your lover who will never love another boy...

My sweet friend, my loved one, my soul mate, 
Never I will forget our embraces and our caresses, in the deep of the night,
Forever I will write poems singing the loved one who leaves me so alone...

About a boy's face

Loving someone means being attracted by a beautiful face, by a gaze, by a particular grace..
It is also the desire to go beyond this face, this gaze, this grace...
I could fall in love with the beautiful boy on this pic,
Because I desire to be a part of his dreams, of his soul, of his thoughts...

I would dream to be the loved one he looks at when his dream vanishes, 
When he comes back to real life...
I would dream to hear my name, when these beautiful lips will open again and speak...
I would dream to be face this boy will caress first, when he will wake up from his inner thoughts...


Blue eye


La castagne et la tendresse (Michel Gourlier)


C'était le temps des shorts courts et des torses bronzés,
Des jambes égratignées et des cheveux emmêlés,
C'était le temps des courses effrénées, à perdre haleine,
A travers ronces et fourrés

C'était le temps des copains, des amis à la vie à la mort,
Des blousons serrés sur les shorts moulants
C'était le temps des bandes et des tribus, 
De la castagne et de la tendresse, 


C'était le temps de nos épopées de garçons aux yeux d'azur,
Aux cheveux d'or et à la fierté farouche,
C'était le temps des drames des serments et des espoirs,
Des déceptions et des trahisons...

C'était le temps de nos adolescences....


jeudi 27 juin 2013

Boys in Berlin gay bars

"Although it would have been in their own interests to have their clients fall in love with them, they did nothing to encourage this. If you mooned over them they became bored and soon began to avoid you. Beyond keeping their hair carefully combed, they showed few signs of vanity. They did'nt seem able to picture themselves as objects of desire. Their attitude was an almost indifferent 'take me or leave me'. Their chief reason for coming to the bars was of course to get money, but they also came because this was a club where they could meet other boys and gossip and play cards. Often, if you wanted one of them to join you at your table, he would tell you to wait until he had finished his game.

Christopher's relations with many of the boys soon became easy and intimate. Perhaps they recognized and were drawn to the boyishness in him. He felt a marvelous freedom in their company. He, who had hinted and stappered in English, could now ask straight out in German for what he wanted. His limited knowledge of the language forced him to be blunt and he wasn't embarrassed to utter the foreign sex words, since they had no associations with his life in England."

Christopher Isherwood, Christopher and his kind.

Cédric

"Among all the boys I loved, Cédric had the most radiant smile, his whole face was like an azure sky, illuminated by a dazzling sun...

Cédric was always joyful, happy and playful, and when he looked at me with his irresistible grin, I just melted and I felt so perfectly happy, I felt overwhelmed by love and deep tenderness...

Cédric was the ideal boyfriend, so cute, so smart, so tender, so loving.... His beautiful face mirrored his gentle soul, and he had a slim and smooth body, with the sweet shapes and muscles of a boy fond of swimming...

We loved to walk for hours along the sea shore, hand in hand, an so often I felt overwhelmed by his charm, by our love, that I stopped and looked at him with tears in my eyes...

"Mark, Mark, what is it ? why do you look at me in such a way ? Mark, tell me..."

I was unable to answer, but I was looking deep into his beautiful eyes, I was looking at his boyish grin, and just thinking: "Cedric, I am so happy we met.... I feel so lucky to have my life enlightened by your presence, by your beauty, by your love... I am so happy our paths cross... Loving such a delicious boy happens only once in a life time... You are the one..."

Fragment of a novel


Beijing Jakarta Dubai


Boys

"Girls are what the state and the church and the law and the press and the medical profession endorse, and command me to desire. My mother endorses them, too. She is silently brutishly willing me to get married and breed grandchildren for her. Her will is the will of Nearly Everybody, and in their will is my death. My will is to live according to my nature, and to find a place where I can be what I am... But I'll admit this — even if my nature were like theirs, I should still have to fight them, in one way or another. If boys didn't exist, I should have to invent them"

Christopher Isherwood, Christopher and his Kind (1976)

Intimacy


Digital Narcissus


Music

There are some feelings plain words cannot express,
Silence is more eloquent, and sometimes music tells them better...
Harmonies and rythm, scale and melody, vibration and slow release...
Fingers along the strings, wood against the chest, guitar's body on a tigh...

mercredi 26 juin 2013

Tenderness

No need for words when you are so close to me,
When you are sitting on my lap, against my torso...

No need for words when I feel you breathing against me,
When I can embrace you and caress your face....

No need for words when your hairs caress my face
When I feel the warmth of your body against mine....

No need for words when we look at the same horizon,
When we share the same dreams, the same thoughts, the same love...

I wish out tender embrace could last for ever...

Undressing


Quintessence of desire


Dream: a boy in the woods


Jeux de garçons - Michel Gourlier

Illustration du livre de Dominique Mauriès, Engoulevent (Signe de piste n°44)

French artist Michel Gourlier had such a unique way to depict teen boys... Gourlier's boys are often bare-chested... Their long hairs hairs are often tangled up... They have tall and slim bodies and most of the times they wear shorts... They mirror a wild and young energy, an untamed sensuality mixed with innocence... They belong to a world apart, with its codes, its body language, its games...

Most of Gourlier's drawings were published in teen boy's literature books... They are still appealing for more mature gazes, understanding the strong homoerotic subtext of these illustrations....


Tribe of teen boys


Swimsuit


Beautiful face

So perfect, so cute, so expressive eyes....
So desirable lips... Such a beautiful noose...
Dark hairs, framing so delicately the face and the gaze...
A smooth face, with perhaps a light down above the upper lip ?
Perfection of boyish beauty

Beach Boy


mardi 25 juin 2013

I would love to be...


I would love to be the sea or the sky, I would love to be green or blue, or anything in between...

I would love to caress your legs and your tighs, I would love to share a deep, a wet, a warm intimacy with the beautiful boy you are...

I would love to mirror your smooth and muscular chest, I would love to acknowledge your youth, your beauty, the softness of your  body...

You make me dream and travel, desire and wonder...

What makes a boy desirable for a gay viewer ? Or rather, what makes a boy desirable, who ever the viewer is ?

I love when a boy is at the same time the question and the answer... 

Flowers of youth


About a boy's face

I cannot look at a boy's face without figuring out the whole book beyond the page..
I cannot look at a boy's gaze without wondering about his inner world, about his soul....
I cannot look at a boy's lips without desiring to hear his voice, his silence, his music...

I feel attracted by boys pics mirroring something else, something more than mere physical beauty...

A boy's face


Tribe of teen boys (Michel Gourlier)

A drawing from the novel by Jean-François Pays, La montagne interdite, Le Nouveau signe de piste, 1979.

lundi 24 juin 2013

A Message from Pietro

I am doing my best to translate in English a message received from Pietro, an Italian reader of my blog.

NB: Pietro allowed me to post his message...


"Dear Mark Daschenbach,

I am a reader of "Eros in Arcadia" since a while... I love the tuning of your blog, your choice of words and photographs... I love your stories, your poems, your "fragments of a novel" posts... Each pic, each post is like a window open, like a door open... They open a free space I feel tuned to, they put words to what I feel, to who I am...

I am gay, no doubt about it... But within the gay world, there are some inner splits... I am not longing for men as old as I am, I feel no attraction for leather guys, for muscular and gymn guys...

As a gay man, I feel attracted by younger guys... Definitely not kids, but not fully grown up guys either...

I am in love with late teen boys.... more late teen than early twink boys...

I love their beauty, their youth, their wilderness, their innocence, their sensuality, their crazyness...

I guess I love the step, the threshold, the fleeting time when teen boys are about to be young adults...

I love the way boys break of their voice and learn how to use a razor blade, I love the way they laugh about everything in such a silly way, I love the way they smell, and sometimes they stink...

I love to answer their silly questions, and I love to ask them to shut up, with a kiss on their lips, when the question is so silly that it cannot be answered back...

The way I love is the way I feel... Pink, wet and boyish lips... Deep and innocent eyes... Cheeks and a chin I could caress without ever feeling under my fingers hair that would require a razor blade...

And indeed, a boyish chest... so smooth, so soft to caress and to brush against it...

And of course, I am longing for a warm, a feverish touch and caress...

But the most desirable body, the most perfect and lovable body will never be enough, without this boy's mind and heart, without the sound of his voice, the pace of his thought, tje beauty of his mind...

I guess I am a true Platonician lover: I love beauty, the beaut of his body, the body of his soul...

Pietro"

23.11.2005: a pic shot during winter, 8 years ago


Joachim

"Joachim was a German student in physics of the universe and he received fundings from the European community for starting a PhD in one of the most famous math labs in Paris.

There were very few chances we could ever meet, and still less chances Joachim could become such an important part of my life...

I was a guest lecturer in this School for Advanced Studies and I gave a seminar about "The concept of infinite in Ancient Greek Thought" for students in maths and physics.

Joachim attended my seminar and he was one of my most stimulating students: as many German boys, he had a degree in Classics, and Anaximander or Pythagoras, Plato or Aristotle were familiar names for him...

We had endless discussions about what Anaximander's apeiron was, about what was beyond the outer sphere of Ouranos, the finite sky most of Greek authors conceived... Joachim was a boy with a sharp mind and he brought to our debates his knowledge of the latest theories in the field of cosmology, his expertise on the current trends about the origins or the shape of our universe...

I admired his intelligence, his culture in theoretical cosmology... And I admired too his beautiful face, his beautiful eyes, sparkling with so many new ideas and concepts... Although he was already an early twink, he had still a boyish and almost beardless face, he still had the enthusiasm and the energy of a teen boy...

Our relationship could have been merely intellectual, grounded in theoretical discussions...

But sometimes, the unexpected happens... On a saturday late evening, I went to my favorite gay sauna, in Paris... I did not hope to meet the special friend I was longing for, I just needed a break, being surrounded by cute and almost nude guys, I just needed feeling the cruising atmosphere of the steam room, of the shower room, of the lockers, of the darkrooms... I was aware I was too old, not cute enough to catch the attention of any younger guy...

There was steam and foam, and very dim light, and invisible bodies were brushing against other bodies... I felt so many caresses, so many light touches, sometimes a bold hand venturing inside my towel, or a kiss, or a fleeting embrace...

One hand caressed my shoulder and went down across my chest and turned around my buttom in such a sensual way that I caught it and I embraced the body this hand was belonging to...

I felt against me a warm and smooth body, and lips that kissed mine, and a boy's arm around my neck, and another one around my waist...

"Waouuuu..." I said...

I embraced this invible boy too and I answered his kiss, I mean, I kissed him in the French way....

I felt a boy's body relaxing between my arms... I hold it against mine... The both of us lost our towels, we were nude, closely embraced... I could feel the warmth of his hardon against mine...

So closely embraced, we moved to a part of the sauna with more light... And I just realized I was holding Joachim between my arms... "Mark !" he said. "Joachim !" I answered back. "Mark, what the hell are you doing here ?!"" — "And you, Joachim ??? Are you not supposed to write your PhD right now ???"

The both of us roared...

"Mark, are you... gay ?  — Well, Joachim, I could ask you the same question..."

We bursted out laughing again...

You put your hand around a part of my body I cannot name, since I want to save the decency of my blog....

I put my hand somewhere else, and I grasped it... but I cannot be more precise...

"Mark, tell me again, what is the concept of infinite ???" — "Joachim, tonight, I only know infinite desire, infinite pleasure..."

I will not tell you what happened next...

But Joachim and me we became the most tender lovers....  Each time we made love together, we were creating a new world from the ground... In any cosmology, love, desire, pleasure should be the starting point.... As far as two boys are concerned..."

Fragment of a novel


Etude


dimanche 23 juin 2013

Vintage boys


Sexy boy


A tough guy I loved


Jesper

"Meeting you was so unexpected... There was no reason for the most beautiful boy on earth to meet an elder guy like me, who did not belong to the world of fashion and professional modelling... And no novel writer would ever imagine that you could fall in love with me, while, indeed, I felt in love with you the first time we met...

You were in London for a fashion show... I was in London for an Academic conference... We met in a Japanese sushi restaurant close to Picadilly. You were alone... I was alone too... The restaurant was crowded, and we were sitting at the sushi bar... I noticed your red eyes, your eyes full of tears... I noticed a tear falling down on your cheek... You looked so sad, so miserable...

I don't know how we started talking together... I guess I asked you what was wrong, why you looked so sad...

At first you kept silent... You looked at me, and your started talking.. You were a Swedish model, a 18yo boy... You came to London for a casting with a famous fashion creator... You did not meet him, just his assistant... an unscrupulous and dirty-minded guy, who told you, in a direct way, that if you wanted the job, you had to go to bed with him...

You did not want to... The guy was upset and told you, with a cold voice: "Well, no need to stay in London, you can book the first flight to Stockholm.. !"

I felt terribly bad and I was sorry for you... You told me: "It is not the first time, I always said "No..."

You were obviously one of the cutest boys I ever met... You had a kind of angelic and supernatural grace and innocence irradiating your whole face... Your had long, blond and silky hairs caressing your forehead and your cheeks in the most gentle way... You whole face was so smooth, so soft, it was obvious it did not experiment a razor blade yet...

And your lips had such a beautiful outline, such a pink and eery colour...

I was totally awed by your beauty... I was just speechless... I blushed and I looked down at my plate of sushis... We kept on talking... You told me about your job, your travels, the fashion shows in Paris, New York, Tokyo or Berlin... You told me also about your loneliness... You were gay, most of the guys in the fashion scene were gay, but you were just fed up with their superficiality, their immorality, their contempt for the young models, who were just considered as flesh for fast sex backstage during the fashion shows...

I told you I was an academic guy, a French professor of philosophy,a nd that I was gay too... I told you about my job, making researches and writing books, teaching young students and caring for them...

We went on, talking as old friends, although we just met a few hours ago... The Japanese restaurant was now almost empty... It was very late in the evening... Or rather, quite early in the morning...

"Jesper, what will you do ?"

"I will try to get a flight back to Stockholm tomorrow..."

"Have you any professional commitments in Sweden ?"

"Not really, next one is in New York, in two weeks..."

"Would you like to visit Paris ? I can buy a Eurostar ticket for you... And you could stay at my place... En tout bien, tout honneur..."

You smiled and you looked at me... And you smiled again... "Okay, Mark... I could meet some fashion designers in Paris... And my modelling agency has an office in Paris, so let see if there is any opportunity for me..."

I smiled back... I kept silent.. I looked at you and I blushed... I kept silent...

"Well, Jesper, I will leave my hotel tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock... If you want to go to Paris, just meet me in the lobby..."

"I will think about it... Thanks for your offer... See you, perhaps, tomorrow morning..."

The next morning, I looked after you, in my Hotel lobby... You were not there... "Too bad..." I thought... I asked for a cab... "I am going to St Pancras station, please"

The cab was just moving off, when I saw you running toward it and screaming: "Wait ! wait ! wait !"

The cab stopped and you jumped in... You were short of breath... "Sorry, I am late..." and you gave me a kiss on my cheek...

"Jesper..." I said... "Later, later, Mark, we will have a lot of time ahead of us for talking..."

And you looked at me... I don't remember any boy looked at me the way you did... Your gaze expressed so many and deep feelings..."

Fragment of a novel (to be continued ?)


Boy with 3-D looking glasses