samedi 30 novembre 2013

L'île et la mer

"Tu es l'île et la mer, mon ami, mon doux amant,
Tu es l'ancrage et l'horizon, le rocher et le vent du large...

Tu es la voile de mon désir qui me conduira au loin,
Au plus près de ton corps, au contact de ton corps solaire...

Tu es Ulysse et l'Odyssée, le garçon et son épopée,
Et de tes bras à tes cuisses, de tes lèvres à tes mains,

Je suivrai les lignes des vents qui guideront mes caresses
Sur ton corps tant désiré, au fil de tes membres dorés...

Salé sucré, le goût de tes lèvres, le parfum de ta peau,
Un festin des sens pour l'amant gourmand, 

Pour le gourmet amoureux..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2002.

Pink Narcissus

An iconic pic, from the iconic movie by James Bidgood "Pink Narcissus" (1971)

More info here.

Could any of my erudite visitors in gay scholarship answer this question ?

When was the pink color linked for the first time with gay mythology and identity ?

Please, answer in the comments !

Thanks !

About boys

I love boys because I love borders...

I love a step... I love something, someone in between...

I love the architecture of a twink body with a face still mirroring the late years of teen boyhood...

Grace, shyness, innocence, sensuality, beauty, perfection, or just a very human body, a very human body...

A beautiful boy's body is for me a concert hall: I listen to a symphony, as well as to so many solo arias...

A beautiful boy's body is for me a library. I read so many texts through a beautiful boy's body: Plato, the Greek Anthology (the so called Boyish Muse), but also Persian and Arabic poets, Oscar Wilde, Forster, and so many others...

A beautiful boy's body is also a museum, from Greek ephebes to Pierre and Gilles paintings, from von Gloeden to Biron...

A beautiful boy is also a movie to watch, from the beginning to the last frame: Death in Venice by Visconti, again and again...


Digital Narcissus

Who am I ? How do I look like ? How could I look at myself from another viewpoint ?
How others are looking at me ? Could I control the way other look at me ?
How should I smile ? What should I unveil about myself ? What should I hide ?

Will I share with pic with others ? Who ? And why ?


Desire

There is no desire without a slow epiphany, a slow unveiling of the desired body...

There is no desire without imagining what remains to be unveiled, without tasting the gesture of unveiling itself...

There is no desire if one does not notice the shades and the colors, the contrast of skin and clothes, of shirt and chest...

There is no desire without feeling the first embrace, that will come so soon, without feeling the warmth of a skin, of a chest, of a body, of a boy...

There is no desire without dreaming about the first kiss, on the offered lips of a smooth blond ephebe, without imagining its taste, their taste...

Desiring relies on a discipline, on a training... Desire has no other rules or limits than those a lover defines for himself (or herself ?). Desire became for me like a spiritual pratice, as defined by ancient philosophers and Michel Foucault: love as a way of life...

The art of Evgeny Mokhorev

Evgeny Mokhorev is a Russian photographer, born in 1967 in Leningrad, now St Petersburg. One of his trademarks is black and white photographs, with a careful stage setting of models, space, perspectives.

More info and links about Mokhorev on his wikipedia page.

Among his favorite topics: urban landscapes, the ideal arithmetics of ballet (a collaboration with the Mariisnky Ballet), and intriguing and intimate scenes, such as this pic: a mother with her son, or with her sons... Gaze, poses, focus and gestures mirror Russian soul, according to Mokhorev... One could say they just mirror human soul...

Mike Tadzio of the Nineties. Photos by BIRON

 American photographer, artist and designer BIRON sent me a nice message: 

"I share your fascination for Tadzio so here are a few of my own Tadzio pics taken in the 1990's and published by Janssen Verlag in Berlin.

You may post any or all of the attached photos by BIRON at Eros in Arcadia if you wish. A link would be nice but is not necessary.
Cheers, 

Biron"

Thank you so much for your contribution !
It is a pleasure for me to link to your web sites

and







jeudi 28 novembre 2013

Tribe of teen boys


A boy's gaze is an horizon....


The Illustrator

During all his professional career, he gave life to the most beautiful teen boys one could ever imagine... He gave a face, a gaze and a smile, he gave a body and a visual existence to characters imagined by writers of youth novels...

He created his own poetic and sensitive universe, where one could meet archetypes of the young male beauty, intriguing faces and poses, a balance of innocence and sensuality, a universe of its own, where each boy was a whole story by himself...

His vision, his skill were unique as soon as he had to give life to a teen boy, to make him breathe, to provide him with a personality, but also a specific look, to imagine the way he stands up or he sits down, his clothing style, his way to move, to laugh, to interact with other boys...

Through the years, he became a master in his skill, he developped a unique personal style, he created a world of its own...

Pencils and inks, papers and paintings provided him with a wide range of creative tools, of visual languages...

Through the years, his drawn or painted boys did not grow up... They are teen boys, young twinks, ephebes for ever...

Through the year, all these drawn and painted boys became part of the very life of the illustrator, while he was getting older, while he was retired from the publishing business...

He remembered so well the story of each boy, when he came to life, his adventures, but also his personality, his whole life, his childhood, his inner world...

These boys became his sons, his kids... He was their father, he created not only nice drawings, but also real boys, living in a parallel world...

He knew each of them through his name, years after he created them, he was able to remember their games, their clothing style, what they love, what they disliked...

In the place where he lives now, the Illustrator is surrounded by the so many teen boys he created... They are not ghosts, they are not fantasies, they are parts of his world, of his life...

They are his family... They talk to him... He talk to them... They understand each others...

He don't mind if sometimes the boys in his portfolio are playing up, messing around, or even making a racket...

He loves to listen to the laughs and screams of the so many boys he gave life to... They are his children, his kids...

"Shut up, boys..." he says sometimes... And the boys shut up... But they start again, chatting together, running through his house, laughing, singing...

In his large house, the Illustrator is not alone... He is surrounded by so many teen boys... His sons, his kids...

They take care of him... They talk to him...  They play with him... They make fun of him...

They just love him... They love the illustrator who made them alive...

Fragment of a novel




Landscape of desire


Digital Narcissus: self-pic with a red rose


mercredi 27 novembre 2013

Le paradoxe du miroir



"Le paradoxe du miroir — c'est une chose à laquelle le garçon réfléchit pas mal, tandis qu'il passe de dix à onze ans, de onze à douze, de douze à l'adolescence paniquée —, le paradoxe du miroir est que, tout en vous reproduisant parfaitement, l'image qu'il vous renvoie est toujours à l'envers: c'est la même, mais aussi exactement l'inverse. Si le garçon devait regarder une photo de lui, il verrait le grain de beauté qui marque sa pommmette gauche sur le côté droit de la photo; c'est ce que les gens voient lorsqu'ils le regardent. Mais ce grain de beauté appartient au côté gauche du miroir, comme si le garçon dans le miroir avait un grain de beauté sur la joue droite. Tout le reste est précisément identique: comme certains autres membres de la famille de sa mère, son oeil droit est légèrement plus grand, plus ouvert, que le gauche, même si c'est l'inverse pour le garçon dans le miroir; ce garçon a une cicatrice sur le front qui zigzague vers la gauche et non vers la droite. Et ainsi de suite.

Le miroir procure donc un plaisir mitigé. D'un côté, il crée des multiples inépuisables, des couloirs à l'intérieur de couloirs remplis d'une infinité d'images qui se répètent; et pourtant les images qu'il offre sont vouées à rater (avec une sorte d'exactitude étonnnate) ce qu'elles sont censées faire: vous montrer tel que vous êtes.

Le même qui est aussi différence, l'énigme présentée par le miroir, l'intéresse. Elle crée chez luui une appréciation toute particulière des surfaces et de ce qu'elles peuvent dissimuler."

Daniel Mendelsohn, L'étreinte furtive, Paris, Flammarion, 2009, p. 85-86.


Pensive boy


Beautiful faces


Tribe of Teen Boys



Ragazzi

I think it is one of Cosidetto's photographs... 
A vintage scene, golden boys, on the Napoli seashore ?
Any reader visitor of my blog could confirm it ?
Thanks !

Jose Joya


Henry Scott Tuke


mardi 26 novembre 2013

The Art of Benno Thoma



"... lisse comme un galet poli... "

"Son visage est lisse comme un galet poli, mais le front, même dans le repos, est labouré de trois rides ondoyantes, semblables aux ailes d'un caducée"




... les garçons aux hanches minces ...

"Sur les terrasses transparentes de lune, entre les sombres bras du fleuve et les feux de camphre qui brûlent sans laisser de trace, s'avancent les garçons aux hanches minces barrées de lin, allant vers l'âge qui fut nôtre.

Innombrable jeunesse aimée du Prince dans de longues dynasties de chambres, combien de solitaires auront-ils pu t'aimer, essaimant malheureux au fond de bouges sans lumière ? — là où le destin réfugiera son visage, les derniers masques perdus."

Claude Michel Cluny, Hérodote éros, Paris, fata morgana, 1984, p. 38.

Beach Boys

William, in the 90's of the last century, created a visual archive of young male beauty, of teen boys living on the shore of a remote Ocean...

I love these candid pics... Looking at such a pic is like spending holidays in a beautiful place, somewhere in the past, somewhere in my memory...

Dream


I would love to join you in your dream, to be with you, where you are, so close that I could caress you with the tip of my finger, so far away, in a place of your own, I can just imagine without being able to reach it...

Perhaps I should fall asleep too, and embrace your warm body against mine, and let my head rest on the white pillow, so close, in front of yours...

I would enter the world of dreams, while listening to your quiet breathe, while looking at your closed eyes, while feeling your living warmth so close to me...

And then, I would close my eyes too, and I will join you, in this secrete place we would be the only ones to know, the place where lovers meet night after night..

I does not matter if tomorrow, I wake up without finding you close to me, in my bed too large for me alone... It does not matter, because I will know where to meet you again, I will know the path to join you again in the garden of our shared desires, of our shared pleasures...

Please, don't forget, wait for me, don't close the door yet, the door to our secrete island, lost in the ocean of my lonely nights...

Mark

Is Eros an Angel ?

Eros in Arcadia ?
Or an angel ?
Where is the bow ? 
Where is the arrow ?
Who is the target ?
Beautiful youth...

Red



lundi 25 novembre 2013

Iconic pic

This pic and this boy inspire me a sweet feeling of intimacy, tenderness and love... This pic mirrors something fundamental, beyond the division between body and soul: the unity, the essence of what makes a boy so desirable... This boy's beauty and youth are shining in such a sweet and a gentle way, through the light caressing his meditative and thoughtful face, through the hand caressing his neck and his shoulder, through the other hand lingering on the top of his jeans...

Such an exquisite pic, such a gorgeous boy are visual poems, they are also a starting point of possible novels, of a love story every viewer will dream to write and to live... Such a delicate pic, such a desirable boy are a music to listen to, an aria, a sonata, an adagio...

I feel overwhelmed by the perfection of this boy, of this pic, by the way they answer my most intimate dreams, desires and memories...

The blossoming beauty of Kyril




Kyril, a 19Nitten model, years ago...
More can be found here.

Tribe of teen boys


Garçon doré, garçon sucré

"Mon aimé, mon amant, du pays des soleils levants,
Ta peau est douce et chaude comme le sable des plages sans fin,
Et tes lèvres ont la douceur sucrée de mille saveurs oubliées,
Tes yeux noirs sont des îles sur l'océan de ton visage doré,
Tandis que ton corps est lisse et souple comme un entrelacs de lianes,
Entre tes bras, entre tes jambes, j'entre dans un monde inconnu,
Effleuré par les murmures de ta voix et la chaleur de ton souffle..

Tu es l'île et l'océan, tu es l'escale et le voyage..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2005.


Mirror


Vintage pic

It seems to be an albumen photographic print, from the late XIXth or the early XXth century.

Who is the photographer ? I don't recognize Wilhelm von Gloeden's style... Perhaps it is the work of his relative, Plüschow, in Rome ? There is something so modern and sensual in this pic... Could it be the work of Vincenzo Galdi, Plüschow's lover and assistant ?

The oriental carpet provides the whole scene with a warm and sensual intimacy... A boy's body on a embroidered carpet...

I am fascinated by the boy's face expression... Who is looking at ? Is the photographer his lover ? Or is he just a model posing nude for money ? Is he tired and bored ? Or curious and puzzled by the gaze behind the camera ?

Does any of the erudite visitors of my blog know the author of this pic and the story behind it ? Please, leave a comment !




Youth and its grace

"La jeunesse et sa grâce, le charme, les dons du corps, les épices de l'impatience et la confiance amoureuse chez celui qui acceptait d'être aimé, bref, la fascination pour les adolescents, ce que les Japonais, si je ne fais pas erreur, nomment enjo kosai, me possédait alors que j'étais moi-même encore ado. Nos vraies passions sont innées et naturelles."

"Youth and its grace, charm, what a body can offer, spices of impatience and the loving trust of who accepted to be loved, in short, fascination for teen boys, what Japanese, if I am not mistaken, call enjo kosai, was within me while I was myself still a teen boys... Our true loves are innate and natural."

Claude Michel Cluny, Le Passé nous attend, Journal littéraire 1984-1985, L'invention du temps, tome VIII, Paris, Editions de la Différence, 2010, p. p. 81.

dimanche 24 novembre 2013

Gazelles


 

Inscription


Iconic pic

What is youth ? An outburst of energy, beauty and sensuality...
This pic expresses it so well, in a plain and metaphorical way...
These white and foaming water jets create a swirling and dizzying background for this beautiful ephebe, offering his naked chest and his face to the irresistible splashes surrounding them...
Without being a Jungian or a Freudian analyst, one can easily read in this pic a visual metaphor of  young male vitality...