Lately, I’ve been thinking
quite a lot about home – what it means, where it is, what it feels like to be
at home in my skin, in my heart, in my bones.
Is home a place, a virtual
space, a clan, a person, a love?
With each passing year and
anniversary, I reflect on this virtual home, the home of my creativity, my
desire, my sexual soul. The opportunity this space has opened up, the freedom
to express and document my passions and longings, the connections and friendships
born from the pen and the lens, they have been gifts from the gods.
As I positioned myself against the familiar cool stucco to capture these images, the afternoon a mere glowing hint behind me, I mused on another gift, the bricks and mortar I call my home. The offerings it has provided me over time have been overwhelming – light so stark and strong my skin magically transformed into alabaster, shadows so rich and luxurious and deep I could submerge myself in midnight’s eroticism and mystery, expanses, alcoves and recesses solid yet mutable, the changing sets of my stage.
In many ways, Love Hate Sex Cake is also an ode to
this place. While I have been grateful for the spaces I have encountered and
captured during my travels, it is my own home that has posed the hardest questions
and creative challenges. Along with capturing the feeling, the desire, the
moment, I have fixed in my memory – and hopefully yours – this haven, this
playhouse.
I know I’m not alone in this
reflection. So many of us have spent a good part of the last two years working
and living and creating and playing at home as a result of this heartbreaking
pandemic – if we were lucky. Our bedrooms, living rooms, studies and kitchens
have virtually welcomed in friends and colleagues and strangers and lovers;
they have told the tale of our joys and anxieties and book collections. And for
me, with you, they have told the ongoing story of my body, clothed and bare and
punctuated with silks and laces, of my passion, naked and raw and ever-present,
of my creativity, vision and resilience.
I can’t begin to express how your eye and ear and communion with my home, in every sense, have enriched and fuelled my drive and need to share. I can’t begin to express the gratitude I feel for your generosity, engagement and friendship. Even though my presence is infrequent (or frequently infrequent…), I am still here. If you want a little more of me, you can find me on Twitter where I continue to post my erotic imagery and thoughts, where I marvel at the voices, words, photography and imagery of others, creativities and expressions that invigorate, inspire and incite the fire in my own burning belly and molten sex.
I hope you can join me
there, just as I hope you can continue to join me here.
Thank you for helping me
make this a truly cherished and beloved home.
Each passing year finds me
surprised – often happily – that my online persona and this virtual space
continue to live and breathe and provide me with a haven to lust and write, to photograph
and create.
While my presence here on Love Hate Sex Cake has been all the more limited since this heartbreaking pandemic has radically changed our lives and my promises for a regular return haven’t materialised, I cherish this space quite unlike any other. It is my home. The home of my creativity, my desire, my sexual soul. It is, and forever will be, the embodiment of the freedom and opportunity to express my longings and passions, to document my femininity, sexuality and experiences, to share the light and the shadow that have begged to be captured.
In the same vein as the last
few years, I have been uncertain about marking the passing of time here. Even
though I initially questioned my motivations, I heeded the call to celebrate my
11th year because this number has always been a lucky one for me and this post is
my small way of sending my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to you all for your
unerring and often overwhelmingly vocal encouragement and support.
This afternoon as I sat to gather my thoughts for this post, I recalled my nervousness as I published the first post on the original incarnation of this blog back in 2009. I wondered if my voice would be found in what already felt like a crowded space of dizzyingly talented erotica writers. I wondered if my vignettes would pique the interest of those I admired. I wondered if I would connect with new and like minds.
Little did I know then that my lens, rather than my pen, would be my strongest and most expressive tool. Little did I know then that this site would become the catalyst and means for some of the most meaningful relationships of my life. Little did I know then that I’d be given the gift of charting my passion, my longing, my vision, my resilience, my body, over time.
My desire and drive to create are as strong now as they were on that first day. Even though life and professional commitments invariably get in the way, I am here; I am out there. Of late, I have been posting my erotic imagery and thoughts on Twitter. Now more than ever, I need the interaction, connection and communion found there. These voices, their words, the photography and imagery, fuel the fire in my already burning belly (and molten sex). They inspire, they soothe, they incite. They make me feel alive.
I hope in my own small and unique way, I have done the same for you. I hope you have found a little inspiration or solace here. I hope you have found words and imagery that speak to your own hunger and yearning. I hope you have found a space you can also call your home.
To say we are all living in strange times – and unprecedentedly strange times – is an understatement.
I know I’m not alone thinking and expressing that sentiment while living and breathing its reality. Day after day, the toll of this COVID-19 pandemic grows ever greater, the reality heartbreaking and life altering in ways that defy the imagination. Unlike others, at this very moment I am very lucky – my family, friends, colleagues and I are all healthy and safe, abiding by our national and local restrictions with the gravity they deserve, self isolating and trying our hardest to flatten that curve.
While the work and pace of my professional life have increased exponentially in the last few weeks, like so many I have more time on my hands now my life is focused almost exclusively between these walls. With some of that time, I’ve been revisiting the thousands of frames I’ve photographed over a decade, regarding them (and my body) with new eyes and an often-surprising kindness, fondly recalling those moments, places and desires. A number have been posted on Twitter, others await the possibility of a new form. The remainder I’m hoping to post here once the words I lately struggle to write finally grace the page. (The two shots that accompany this post were captured in a once grand hotel in Manchester during the northern summer of 2015. After days of dreary grey skies and rain, the sun finally broke. On the morning of my departure, the light allowed me to capture some of my best work.)
My wish is a return to my past form and regular posting might bring a little comfort during this stressful and anxious point in our lives – to my loyal friends and readers as well as myself.
On that note, please drop by
and indulge yourself at any time if this space gives you joy, inspires your
eroticism, exhibitionism or desire, and brings you that comfort. Even though I
can’t make as material a difference as I’d like during this time, I want to
offer this Love Hate Sex Cake as
succour, relief and possibly some light during this despairing darkness.
Right now, Twitter is abuzz with posts and photographs embracing the holiday season, as well as favourites of the year and decade reviews. Taking my inspiration from my 10-year anniversary and the spate of #DecadeinReview posts on Twitter, I’ve decided to post my Decade in Review here rather than Twitter to mark both milestones, with one self-portrait for every year of Love Hate Sex Cake.
With over 730 images between this blog
and social media platforms, the process of selecting one self-portrait to
represent and embody an entire year has been an interesting one. Some years are
no brainers – the images leap out crying, “Me! It has to be me!” Others have
been a challenge. The process has shown me how I’ve grown and developed with
and through this medium, the years where I truly hit my stride, the turning
point with my DSLR.
Rather than wittering on, I’ll let the images and my short reflections speak for themselves. I hope you enjoy the stroll down (my erotic) memory lane with me…
~ Minx x
2009 Hum Shot in 2009 with my Nikon COOLPIX compact digital, Hum was posted in March 2010 as my second self-portrait for HNT (the predecessor of Sinful Sunday). While a little noisy/grainy, all these years down the track I’m still really pleased with the light and framing – and the long, inquisitive line of my legs.
2010 Silver Another compact digital shot in monochrome, I adore the contrasts in this image: the harsh spotlit gleam of the curved metal bed frame against my body in a state of partial undress; the teasing juxtaposition between the lace and cashmere and the supple globes of flesh…
2011 Prowl The transition to DSLR and my belovedNikon D7000… While this shot isn’t the first in this regard (it’s #7 in this tag on the site), it definitely marked a turning point for me. If I had to nominate a favourite self-portrait of all time, this one would be it by a mile. Everything about it still speaks to and of me; everything about it embodies my sexuality, sensuality and style, as well as my love of monochrome noir. (It also happens to be my most stolen image of all time, regularly pilfered on Tumblr, Twitter and other social platforms.)
2012 Bloom I couldn’t quite settle on an image for this year. I toyed with a number for quite some time, but invariably returned to this image – the colour and the pose were ultimately the deciding factors. Once again, it’s more sensual hint than bare revelation, the softness of the warm glow accentuating the outline of the rosy peak beneath the sheer paisley silk and the barely parted thighs silently calling for the tender touch of strong hands…
2013 City Lights This self-portrait marks a definite and exciting first – the exploration of other spaces and interiors. Up until this point, I had exclusively photographed myself in my own home. Travelling with my DSLR and a tripod opened up the possibilities and allowed me to push my boundaries, both artistic and erotic. The wicked and sensual exhibitionist in me soared as soon as the sun set and the city lights glittered and glowed.
2014 Instruction Another exception to my photographic rule – the close-up. Very quickly during this review, I realised I mostly shy away from this framing, preferring a medium or long shot to capture the space, the light and shadow, and the line of my body. At the time, I was so pleased with the framing, the muted light and the tentative touch on my shivering skin, that I couldn’t resist taking a chance. Now, I’m very glad I did.
2015 Once Upon A Time During my travels in 2015, I struck gold with my Manchester digs. With high ceilings, tall windows and wood panelling, this generously proportioned room provided the space and light for some of mybest work. While the accompanying prose speaks of the sadness and melancholy I was feeling at the time, the painterly quality of this unedited image – the naturally sepia tones, the shadowy line of my nakedness emerging from the background, the texture of my skin, the artificial starkness of the rumpled bedding – embodies time’s past, the faded glory days of the majestic hotel, the ghosts of lovers who continue to live and breathe within its walls, unable and unwilling to forget the intoxicating ecstasy of sensual and decadent pleasures.
2016 Soft and Hard Originally posted on Twitter and Tumblr as an outtake, I soon realised this image was the furthest from second rate and more than worthy of this virtual home. In my characteristic style, I opted for the suggestion (in the shot) and the suggestive (in the title) while dressed to kill and thrill in a beloved piece of finery.
2017 Ecstasy This self-portrait is as close to going viral as I’ll ever get. With over 17,000 notes on Tumblr before my page was marked as sensitive and its contents hidden, this noir-inspired image is true to my desire, sexuality and hunger unlike any other. On this sweltering summer’s day, I set the interval timer and slid between the sheets, surrendering utterly, passionately, shamelessly, to the molten heat…
2018 We Float The same picture window, a different year…
In the five years separating City Lights and this image, my exhibitionism had grown in brazen leaps and bounds. With my nakedness and cheek (in every sense) pressed against the glass in the full glare of light, I was set free to float, to soar.
2019 Seating ArrangementsandThe Invitation Highlighting two images for the decade’s concluding year is something of a cheat. But it would be remiss of me not to incorporate both since they’re companion pieces – the former posted on Twitter then on the site and the latter exclusively onTwitter. A celebration of a naturalism I’m embracing more often of late, this duo represents the development and maturity of my photographic style, as well as my enduring fascination with the eroticism of both shadow and light.
I can barely believe a decade has passed by; a decade that has seen me bare so much of my body, desire and sexual soul.
In keeping with the last few years, I’ve been struggling to find good reason to mark and celebrate this virtual home’s beginnings since it has become such a neglected place of late. My time, energy and creativity have been channelled into my professional life, into work that nourishes and compels me to reach for new heights.
While that sphere has
overwhelmed my drive in some respects, in others it has intensified my urge to
write and photograph, to document my desire and sexuality, to keep alive the woman
of passion and sensuality, the woman of creative vision, the woman tenacious
and resilient, the woman in word and image, the woman of dark and light.
In the shadows, I continue to create. Not with the regularity that embodied (quite literally) the early years of this site, but with occasional and considered bursts that allow me to focus on capturing the essence of time, of space, of desire, of the woman in her (increasingly fiery and ravenous) middle age.
So, here I am, taking a
moment to observe the birth – as well as my continual rebirth – through this
lovingly and lustfully created Love Hate
Sex Cake. In that commemoration, there is also and always my debt and
heartfelt gratitude to you – my friends and readers – for your unerring support,
encouragement and communion with my work. More than simply reading and gazing,
you have encouraged me to push my boundaries, to hone my craft, to sigh and spill
my lust, to bare not just so much, but more… All.
~ Minx x
PS If you’re ever in the mood for more regular erotic offerings, you can find me on Twitter…
