HIATUS
Excerpts from 2023 - Redacted for privacy
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What does it mean to be a worker at permanent rest, on infinite sabbatical, a worker who is never really “on the clock” but remains on “the books” and in the ethers?
A sex worker who refuses to take any work?
In 2022 I used my sex worker social media and website samples to get hired as the Director of Communications for a non-profit arts organization.
It’s not that this work takes up that much of my time at 20hr per week but rather that I can’t fathom trying to work more than the bare minimum to cover essential bills plus a few meals out and thrifted Goodwill Bins clothing on occasion. I am actually allergic to work and the labor of sex requires full-time commitment and a performance of work enjoyment that I just can’t seem to fake.
Also, I’ve turned virtually every client away. In the 2 years since I professionalized my approach to sex work I’ve completed 🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 and demo’d at one play party- a work record I’d classify as more of a hobby than a vocation.
There are a few reasons I have continuously said “no” to those requesting my services. One is the obvious “they didn’t meet my criteria” either not filling out my session form or not fitting with the type of session work I do in my niche, namely plant and Gardener based fantasy. I do advertise on my site that I am willing to accommodate other session types but also feel intensely turned off by those who seem to have no connection to the niche I’ve architected.
The second reason is more complex and one of self censorship and shame. Not guilt, mind you, but shame, the ultimate passion killer in an industry that flouts conventions around decency and taboo.
I decided 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢 back up in 2021. I’m not interested in describing my reasoning or arguing the virtue of that choice in this essay, but that decision did lead to a number of spaces, events and people of a certain conviction becoming inaccessible to me, even now, where some events 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 here in Los Angeles.
In the spirit of 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 I always disclosed this info to clients but also chose to forgo spaces that 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢.
This experience was eye opening and quite frankly traumatizing. In an industry and lifestyle that so exalts a doctrine of bodily autonomy and consent, why were so many of my peers so adamant that people should violate their own boundaries in order to access these spaces? Granted, the 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 telling us the 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 was churning loud and strong every day at that point, but even before my 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 moment (I had 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 ) it was well-known that this was at the case, 🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 did not 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢, so what was this cult-like fervor around keeping “🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢” out of BDSM and kink spaces?
I suppose for the same reasons as every industry, and that singular reason was labor. Create the clean, clearcut narrative that soothes the masses into acquiescing to return to labor. The 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 does not 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢, but they “allow” you to return to labor.
When my emergency unemployment ended, I decided I would return to sex work, this time as a primary form of labor. I built a beautiful website, wrote exquisite site copy, posted on all the web 1.0 listservs and ad boards, built a humble Twitter and Instagram following and created stunning new images with the support of my life partner, anonymously photographing my femdom avatar fantasies.
I was quickly beloved by professionals I knew from other iterations of my kink work and new pros who exalted my work and pleaded with their audience: "Why does this person not have more followers??? They have one of the most singular and artistic approaches to BDSM I’ve ever seen in my career!!” I was a pro-domme’s, pro-domme. But I wasn’t exactly pro-domming. My first potential client was put on rain check until I was able to secure access to a dungeon space, something I couldn’t do because of a certain dungeon owner’s 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢. Despite my entire thing being a Master Gardener with an outdoor, garden scene vibe, I didn’t exactly feel comfortable hosting just anyone at my home yard space, for safety and security reasons. The more requests poured in the more confused and stuck I felt. So I just kept saying no.
At this point, I can admit I probably don’t have the hustle it takes to professionally dominate full-time. I’m an artist, lazy, slow, plodding even. It can take me years to locate and commit to my true, authentic expression, and I can’t keep up with the churn of content advertising this profession requires. As long as my bills are covered by a civ job I’m not motivated to accrue wealth or save for a large purchase. I’m not wired to accumulate for accumulation’s sake. I can’t pretend to care about Michelin star meals and men’s gaze. I feel dysphoric wearing lingerie. I feel dysmorphic, embodying professionalism. But the ideas are there and maybe I’ll invite this entity back after some time. For now I know I am just an artist. I can barely professionalize submitting to grants let alone dominating strangers.
I’m still very proud of the paradigm I dreamed into an offering for other bodies in 2021. I didn’t get to embody this archetype as fruitfully as I’d hoped to, I’m too picky about clients, too guarded about intimate encounters, too selfish, in some ways, as I see my artistic work replicated and watered down across the rhizome. I know that is ungenerous but it is actually how I feel. Colleagues love to exclaim “ART!” when they see my content, without any knowledge of my decades-long relational art career outside this realm and the way this work has been built off of each preceding, immersive, life-as-art project. And, I mean, that’s by design right? To separate the self from the product, become object as subject, the commodifiable face of our most shippable fantasies?
I’ll whack you with roses as a friend tho. As a performance, whatever. I hate the feeling of dividing myself into two creators for the safety required by the profession. It’s hard for me to compartmentalize and I feel stilted by the secrecy I think I must maintain to be Master Gardener safely. Is there anything like safety? Just risk and awareness, right?