LEGACY ISSUE: Les Louves by Sovvy

“She had none of the womanly virtues.  Especially did she lack tenderness…She was also a great slut.“– Rebecca West on the Archduchess Sophie

Gonzo came from the journalism term popularized by Hunter S. Thompson. It was meant to convey a more ethnographic perspective in reportage. It simply means there isn’t necessarily a narrative plot, the plot is more about the subjective experience. It doesn’t mean POV or rough per say, but it does generally connote a more immediate pornographic experience.

When I first met Dana Vespoli I was taken with her beauty, intelligence, and raw sexuality.  She had been a gonzo girl and anal queen before taking a hiatus to nourish her soul by making a family, and I was one of her first scenes “back” in the business.  She played the annoyed boss to my bumbling secretary for Nica Noelle in an Office Seductions release from Sweetheart Video.

I could have never dreamt that we would become like twins, distinct beings, but in so many things, connected by a private language of desire, curiosity, ambition and well…and that indefinable thing that cocoons intense and meaningful relationships between people.

She has become a mentor to me, a dear friend, a dream sister, and more, the kinds of things I can’t share here because they are too intimate, and you couldn’t understand anyway, unless you remember those friends you had in elementary school that you made blood pacts with.

She helped me open my asshole.  It may very well be the most intimate relationship I’ve ever had with someone involving my sexuality, although we are not lovers.

Vukojebina: trans. “wolf-fuck”; A place where wolves retire to copulate, a remote, barren, or arduous place.

 

 

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Authenticity: “Comment is Free, but Fact is Sacred.” by Sovereign Syre 10.29.12

It’s not Herpes, I got it doing meth!

“Comment is free, but fact is sacred.”–CP Scott

I’m going to start using this as a diary because I can fancy myself as Anaïs Nin.  I’ll start calling myself a diarist and spare myself the shame of ever being labeled a blogger (neither a journalist or a writer, just an asshole with an opinion inbetween).

I posted a picture of my mouth and someone commented that it looked like I had a cold sore.  I actually in point of fact, have never had a cold sore, but people think that sometimes in pictures.  I don’t have either strain of the herpes virus, but a lot of people do and its nothing to be ashamed of.  Its just part of nature and nature is obscene.  If I did have a cold sore though, I probably wouldn’t post a photo of it because most people don’t want to look at sores without warning.  I brand myself as a sexual person, so posting pictures of my face with visible sores on it wouldn’t be a very clever marketing strategy. It was more of a logic fail on the part of the commenter.

It did inspire me though, to tell you all a story.

The bump or irregularity on my lower lip that I believe the person was referring to, is actually scar tissue.  A lifetime ago (doesn’t the past feel like a distant country sometimes? Or is that just my peculiar affliction….), I was completely out of my mind on methamphetamine and thought my lips were actually made of two fat worms that had burrowed under my skin.  I tried to dig them out with a sewing needle.  I spent close to six hours trying to suss out the bloated grubs I thought were living inside me.

It’s weird how anxiety and adrenalin can numb you to any kind of pain.  All I really remember feeling, was how cold my fingers felt. You’re always cold on meth, or too fucking hot.  I remember how sticky the blood was making my skin as it tried to dry and congeal.

I watched my best friend slowly pull off her thumbnail with a nail file to get rid of her cuticles. So, my experience was hardly extraordinary.

I should tell this story to girls that I hear about in the industry who are getting “really messed up” on drugs, but I don’t.

There’s no bigger waste of time than trying to talk a junkie out of her habit, except maybe trying to talk a girl out of her abusive husband.  I should know, I’ve been both.

The irony to me is that none of this happened while I was doing porn.  Instead it happened in the squeaky clean confines of University.  This dark phase had come and gone all in the time it takes to rack up a degree.  It’s funny, the whole time I was there, no one really cared if I was taking mysterious tumbles down the stairs or using a teener of meth a week to help animate the sagging skeleton of my inner life.   As long as I was making grades and writing good poems no one really noticed a thing.

I actually entered the adult industry painfully sober (let’s face it, pain is pretty much the only true teacher), and in the context of a loving, nurturing relationship with a decent man and a long term relationship with an equally gracious woman.  My parents are gingerly supportive of my decision to ditch my academic pursuits in favor of a life time dedicated to erotica because they’re not used to seeing me so happy and well adjusted…pretty much ever.

It always frustrates me to hear people malign the adult industry as a place where no one cares, full of outlaws and ne’er-do-wells.  That’s not because its not true, but because its said in a way that is meant to distance “their” world, from the “porn world”, as if there’s a lick of difference between the two, when they’re both inhabited by people.

Authenticity.

 

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Listen

I don’t identify as dominant or submissive.  I love to fuck.  I love to be fucked. I love to be terrified, and I can be terrifying.

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The Moving Image by Sovereign 9.12.12

This week for the courtesan project I’m taking a look at the body.  While I think the most important focus in an endeavor like this is to round out the mind and expand one’s thinking, the body can’t be neglected.

This is a touchy subject.  Some people are insistent that you should seek to love yourself as you are, others that you should try sculpt yourself to fit some standard you consider idea and on and on.

For me, I’m viewing this as something I’m doing to build up my confidence as well as to polish the instrument I use in my trade.  I work every day with beautiful women of varying shapes and sizes.  All I can say is that I know what my problem areas are, the things that make me self-conscious in a scene and therefore, not as good of a performer.  There are also things that make me too self aware in real life.  I want to overcome these things on one hand so I look better, but also for the increased confidence that will come from achieving something I’ve set out to do.

I don’t have a hard and fast goal weight or anything.  I just want to be doing more physically to effect a body I find enjoyable and beautiful.

I was a ballerina and a soccer player as a child, and even now I run everyday and practice Bikram yoga five to six times a week.  Still I wouldn’t say that I have a good body.  I’ve never really had a good body (a testament to how much I love food).  A male performer once suggested I have body dysmorphia, but this isn’t about him.  His pallet is too broad to begin with.  He can get hard for anything.

I’ve always been more of a face.  

I’m endeavoring to change that.  So I joined a gym.  I’m going to start lifting weights, and you know, actually training my body.  I’m not really looking forward to this, or at least I wasn’t until last night.

I was at the gym and on a cardio machine, and I found myself pushing to work harder and longer, even though my normal tendency is to give up.
I went to the pool to swim laps and challenged myself to do double what I’d set out for.  It was a satisfying feeling.

I realize that for me, physical conditioning, is actually mental conditioning.  My real weakness is in training my mind to focus and complete things.  Even as I write this, I don’t want to be.  I’d rather watch youtube videos or write something, or read from a book.  It’s just my nature.

I think that this undertaking is going to help transform me in a different way.  I may, for the first time, become disciplined.

I figure between yoga, weights, cardio, jogging, and my pole classes, this body is going to start coming together in a way that will make me more confident.

When I started a 60 day challenge in my Bikram, (60 classes in 60 days), I wasn’t sure if I’d do it, and yet, lately, things have felt for me more important, they are weighted with a sense of urgency.  As if innately, my frazzled mind understands that this is indeed a time to work.
I passed the challenge, and it made me feel a sense of confidence.  I’d been able to complete something that was difficult, with no outside pressure or assistance in achieving that goal.

Something else changed for me too.

When I would start my classes I would hate to look at my body in the mirror.  I don’t really enjoy it at all.  Yet, but the end of class I would have compassion for myself and my plump legs and round tummy.

It’s about the small victories when it comes to the image of our bodies.

 

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A Whore’s Curriculum by Sovereign 9.4.12

The first phase of my project is to come up with a curriculum.  I’m planning on doing this informally and organically.  I imagine I will see areas that need improvement, more or less time, or that need to be abandoned all together.

The basic idea is that I should round myself out as a person.  I recognize that in some ways I’m turning myself into a dilettante.  While this isn’t ideal, in some areas, it will simply have to do.  This is a project geared toward myself alone, I’m sharing the process with whomever reads this blog, but by no means am I suggesting that it is a path for anyone else to follow.

This is what works for me.  To be quantum mechanical about it, I have to take into account the instrument of observation.  I’m an academic, so it is natural to me that this project to become a courtesan (here I mean in the romanticized historical context, but more about that in future entries) would be structured as a course of study full of reading lists, tests, periodic evaluations and culminating events.

I also plan to use the resources around me to expand and develop the scope and vision of this project (force the friends around me who are smarter and more knowledgeable to give me all their secrets).  There is no goal toward this project other than enrichment and improvement toward an ideal that I will be developing as I study.  I’m planning to attack this project Napoleon style, that is to say fluidly, ready to shift or change course at any time…or like Bruce Lee, you know, be like water.

I’ve come up with a rough outline of courses of study to undertake over the next year.  In future entries I’ll discuss each of these areas in detail.  I will be working on all of these subjects concurrently, hoping that my work in one will influence the others.

The first outline is such:

1. General knowledge

  • World history
  • Geography
  • Current events
  • Politics
  • Current global crisis/conflicts

2. Culture

  • Great works of literature/music/film/theatre
  • Art both contemporary and historical
  • Developing foreign languages
  • Traveling/exploring natural areas, historical points of interest and museums.
  • Fashion and developing a personal sense of style.
  • Fine food and wine.

3. Personal development

  • Read biographies, memoirs and essays by various bonvivants and wits, and heroes
  • Practice musical instrument
  • Learn basic ballroom dances
  • Etiquette/manners
  • Develop a reading list of tomes on war, strategy, seduction, psychology etc.
  • Learn about health/fitness and cultivate better habits.

4. Sexuality

  • Explore
  • Develop a reading list from medical texts to de Sade
  • Great works of erotica/film etc.

This is hardly exhaustive and I plan on developing each area into a detailed syllabus that I can put together.  I suppose this will function as a sort of interdisciplinary degree in liberal arts, sexuality, and fine art.

The idea is that as I work through and develop these ideas and begin to study I will be keeping a record here.  As I participate in more activities and interact with/interview different people I will be posting not only essays, but images and video…so that the project itself is also a kind of performance art.

The first area that I want to work on, is general knowledge.  I’m working to come up with a list of blogs, websites, magazines and journals that I should be keeping up on in regards to world news and events.  I’m also going to be consulting with the friends I have around me, whom I come to rely on as experts in areas of politics and topical affairs in developing a reading list of political texts and historical documents I should familiarize myself with, as well as looking to improve my knowledge of geography.  I’ll be looking into major issues affecting the globe.

From here I’ll draft a syllabus as it were for the next year of media to study as well as new habits to develop in terms of cultural consumption and also activities I can participate in to fully engage with the subject matter, whether it be attending political events, participating in charity drives etc. I will be posting that list in the next few days.  My goal is to have completed a working curriculum and reading list in all of the above areas for the next year by the beginning of October.

 

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The Courtesan Project

This is an informal situation.

I’m not editing this as I’m writing.  There’s another time and place for the more thoughtful, careful kind of writing that I’ve been trained to do.  This is a blog.

I DO WHAT I WANT!

I’ve been quiet around here.  I’ve been going through a personal investigation, trying to find meaning, focus, and a sense of purpose.  I think it’s healthy to step back from time to time and re-evaluate and revise what I’m doing and where I’m going and why.

I am about to endeavor on a massive personal project and I am inviting you along.

I’m calling this the “Courtesan Project.”

I’m  about to endeavor to become a modern-day courtesan, I use the word courtesan, because I mean to include sexuality in my course of study on courtiery. This is not to say, I’m endeavoring to become a prostitute with wealthy clients, it is more to approach the view of myself as a sex worker with a sense of pride and framed in a historical context that elevates sex work, and the sex worker.

I want to cultivate and grow within myself, a new person….

I want to document this journey of self-discovery and development.

Over the next year I am going to undertake a new method of living, a new way of seeing and being.  Perhaps it is the eternal student in me, perhaps it is my rational nature, but I want to DO something different.

This transformation will be firstly psychological and incidentally physical.

I could write five different essays about my motivations, and I will, overtime, contribute those here.  But I thought I would include you in the entire process, from the nascent idea, to fruition of my thesis.

How does one endeavor to become a courtesan?  What is a courtesan?  What should a courtesan be able to do? Why would one want to do this?

These are all questions I’m going to be answering here on a weekly basis.

I will be sharing here an entire process.

 

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It’s Oh So Quiet, by Sov 7/1/12

When I Die in my Dreams, I Never Wake Up

I’m murdered from time to time in my dreams,
by a stranger in an all night laundromat,
I’m folding clothes in the flickering light
when I notice him casually walking in
through the only door out. There is something
between us, a familiarity in
the way he stares as I feed the machines
quarters and clothes, that makes me afraid when I
realize there are no windows in this room,
and we are stuck like that for a long time, both
knowing what we intend to do, but not
yet moving.

I used to jog through the streets of Manhattan every morning before dawn.  I passed by the eternal flame as I jogged through Battery Park. I would wander past the massive statues that surround the Native American Museum and circle back around to watch the sunrise over the Statue of Liberty.

There’s something about the quietude of the crepuscular hours , when the sky is a deep crystalline blue and the moon is fading to a pale pearl husk up there through the trees or above the glittering buildings.  Its so intoxicating, that despite the danger of it, I can’t resist my solitude.

The last day I was in New York I was coming home from my girlfriend’s house in Brooklyn.  It was 3:30 in the morning and I was worn out because we’d been making love all night.  I was the only one of the subway crossing over to Manhattan.  I liked being on the train at that time of day, watching my own reflection in the subway windows.  There was of course, always the momentary thrill of each stop, when the doors would open, wondering if a man was going to walk in…if he would be dangerous or mad.

I was walking through the turnstile to exit out into downtown Manhattan as a lone man was coming down the stairs off the streets.  There was nothing between us but the stretch of stinking concrete and piss.  It was like something out of Irreversible.  As he passed through the turnstile he reached out and grabbed my tit.  He grabbed me so hard it brought the strap of my dress down.

And I just kept walking.

It’s weird how life does that to you.

A few months later in California, I was jogging and was accosted by a man with a knife.  He chased me for a long time, even as I ran from door to door when everyone is still sleeping, pounding on windows and screaming for help.  It felt like being stranded in the midst of a black sea with nothing but a void full of monsters beneath me.

It was a kid who finally opened the door for me.  His mother was too startled to know what to do.

It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened.  A few years before that, a guy had tried to drag me off the bike trial into the bushes to do God knows what. He was brazen too, because it was the middle of the day and the path was full of people trying to enjoy the temperate weather of an autumn afternoon.  Him I fought, kicking and punching and spitting.  The cops laughed uncomfortably when they took the report.  They told me what I’d done was dangerous, that he could have really hurt me.

Still I go running every morning.

It’s not that these things don’t terrify me.  They do.  It’s just, I’m not willing to change my habits.  I don’t want to feel that I’m at war or something, that I’ve got to hide from the enemy… I often imagine that when I do die, it will probably be at the hands of some lunatic with a grudge against women in a dark parking lot or something.

I walk in the dark anyway.

 

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Under by Sovereign 6/28/12

My father always tells me the only thing I could ever do to make him ashamed is be afraid.

We were raised as wolves, and as wolves we shall remain.

Now, some iPhone erotica:

 

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Lesbian Masseuse 2 by Sov

I recently got the chance to work with Asa Akira.  I played a maneating woman who really just needs to be eased open and proper fucked by my masseuse Asa.  I really like working with Asa, she’s one of the most down to earth performers I’ve had the privilege of diddling.  Was that end rhyme or near rhyme or…?  I don’t know.  Here is the box cover and a gallery of photos of me enjoying the Insatiable Asa.

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It’s Art! by Sov

Modeling is art you guys, and its verrry serious.  So serious.  I am a fucking artist.  Here is a picture of me by Creative Rehab that was taken a week before I came to California to make my way in pr0n.

The first part of a three part interview I did for Whack! magazine is coming out tomorrow.  I’m insanely nervous because I was very honest in it and said a lot of brash things because that’s what I do.  We’ll see how it goes.

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