I found this magazine just sitting outside my apartment building last night. Just sitting there. I didn't dig in the garbage to find it. It was just there. Like a sign. Ass all over the place. I thought the timing was pretty uncanny considering I was just discussing on Twitter with @alvinthethird that I was pondering what my next erotic work of art would be because I received another request to make a sex tape and had just read some commentary on the Kim Kardashian spread in W magazine. No doubt, I want my project to be sensual as well as erotic and somewhat political -- make a statement.
I want to always be in control of my erotic art. And as an obvious extension of that, my body. If I want to pose nude, I will. If I want to sext with pics, I will. If I don't want to work with a particular photographer, I won't. It all boils down to my comfort, my mission and the joy of creating.
Of course there were comparisons to J-Lo made with the whole Kardashian photo and whether or not a Black woman could get away with the same thing. Black women do it all the time. The question is the stigma attached to it. What made Kardashian any different? Her image is art because she didn't have a g-string disappearing between her cheeks for emphasis? We have butts. Some of us have big butts. Some of us have humongous butts. And thanks to magazines like the one pictured above, some Black women use those butts to earn a living and make a name for themselves. But what's in a name? What's behind (technically, in front of or on top of) the booty? When I was a personal trainer, I got most of my clients because of my butt. Many of them told me they wanted a butt like mine. I was never offended because they were never offensive. Sure, I had a shapely butt, but I also had the knowledge and experience to get them what they wanted or the sense to tell them it wasn't gonna happen no matter how many squats we did.
