Listening to the Doves is somewhat odd, the way that memories can swing back and conjure things that I wouldn't normally bring up. The Doves are when I first moved into Boulder, when I first started living at lovely 17th and Cascade, and the swirl of friendships and relationships that unexplainedly started bubbling up from everywhere. Fun, fun. And then Sigur Ros's new album came out and I was tranfixed in the fall, between burntbrown leaves and violin strings, and suddenly romance seeping through cracks and me swept up into it - it came and went as swiftly, it seems, as a wave's recoil into the sea. Perhaps it underscores how my bed seems as vast as a desert now.
The covers can link as complex as wires threading through mainframes, the various pillows suddenly balloon as planets, the creases in the bedcover as woven as pipes in refineries - me nestled in all of it, a quiet red dot in the middle of crisscrossing 90-degree angles on blueprints for sleep. It's not the space that gets me, but the design that just pines for someone else. The best feeling: lazily moving your fingers through layers and layers of blankets and fabric while still half-sunk and treading in a dream, and suddenly finding the white warmth of someone else's body with you. It's like touching a light bulb in an abandoned train station, practically. The night makes everything around you just hues of black and gray, and yet the touch of skin flares color around you even though if only behind your eyes, if only imagined.
Amazing, then, how shutting off the visual sends the rest of sensuality skyrocketing. It's no wonder that people have sex in the dark. Even just kissing, even just touching, even just whispering makes for some sort of sense that even the sharp audio edges of a whisper could cut, could become something tangible and send spikes of stimulii as easily as anything else. And these things, just sound, touching, tasting, smelling...
I remember the way that the bed would smell after she would take a shower. The shampoo would just drift over our lazy bodies and even as my breathing became deeper, I could fall asleep and careen into dream with your scent wrapped around me like guidance. It was always the best way to sleep.
It was that or the opposite of serenity, practically, like after sex when the air was still tight with desire and phermones and us, some curious scent that was so new to me and I still remember it. Tell me something more excellent than memorizing your form with my hands in the dark - take away my sight for that one evening, as I would even give it away. It takes a lot of trust and confidence to be that vulnurable - I think that's what a lot of a good relationship is. It's overlooked sometimes.
This entry makes me seem hung up on her, but I'm not. Not at all. It's more of looking through photo albums, but with all senses open. As most anything in my life, I was fortunate to have that.
A bit more on more erotic things - something fun, consistently, is to learn someone else's style or way when being intimate, and it's amazing what the curvature of the body can express. If someone's uncomfortable or not ready for anything, it just comes out. I think that's why I like dance sometimes (not dancing myself, heh, but perfomances). We spend so much time trying to explain things instead of letting the most basic forms of expression take over. You can chatter away in the classroom, but if making out was reduced to a set of printed instructions, uh, I don't think there's be nearly as much of an excitement to it.
I think maybe that's another reason why some people consider me highly sexual. I don't think it's sexual, per se, but sensual. I also haven't had very many partners at ALL. Most everyone I know is ahead of me, but I think that's because they dated around a lot and I was in long-term things. Not that it's bad, but sex or making out with someone you love is one of the most fulfilling, wonderful things I can think of. One night stands, eh, I can't do those. I never have been able to. But being sensual isn't about how many people you've been with. Quantity doesn't equal perportional experience, after all. To me, sensuality is about a lot of things. It's about respect, trust, basic physical enjoyment, perhaps love, but mostly good communication. I'm a firm believer that the key to a good sex life is good communication. If you clam up, then how will you be able to tell the other person? heh. I mean, hey, it's YOUR enjoyment.
But main aspect of all of this sensuality is the intimacy, though. I seriosly believe one of the most excellent and important things we can do in our lives is human interaction, and even if it's a random conversation or a deep relationship, life is too short to go it alone. This also isn't mean to say that virginity is a sign of timidness at all. I really admire people who are virgins so late in their life. I like sensuality, but that certainly doesn't mean that EVERYONE has to. Er, no, that also isn't correct, that just because people haven't had sex doesn't mean they don't enjoy intimacy, obviously. But it's just another sign of responsibility and intention, I believe, to choose not to have sex, especially in an enviornment like college that promotes (sometimes) a sexually active lifestyle. And that's as rad as anything.
heh, this entry was a whole lot SEXIER than I had planned. heh. I'm going to South Padre tomorrow at 6:00am. I hope you're all having the best o'luck, friends. Be nice to each other.
up way too late and lsitening to Auburn Lull,
Jared