Writing and directing an adult film!

This is not what I thought I was going to do when I started photography. And have I ever started? It feels like I’ve been always doing this and then I’ve just got the right tools to express what I saw around me and in my head.
I don’t remember when I started to write either, I just became better at it and it’s still a bit weird because English is not my first language but I like its fluidity, I like how round it can be and every inflection you choose adds intensity or unbearable coldness.

Then it happened. I remember being silly on Instagram, talking about indie adult films, the moment after I was speaking to Erika Lust’s production manager and within a month I was writing my first script, struggling a lot but for the first time in my life enjoying the challenge.

I’ve been writing erotic self inspired stories for a year at the time, before then I used to write for GQ and Playboy but their cisgender approach and really defined view on sex, and sometimes lack of beauty and grace, made me a loner. My photography became more anonymous to the point I almost wanted people to see their own identity through the details of their body and not only their face, and for a while it worked but then felt like not enough anymore. It’s funny how until few months ago I had no idea what I was doing but I’m glad I kept doing it and took my breaks any time I felt stuck, bored or overwhelmed.

So, writing an erotic script wasn’t a big deal if not technically, because what I feel and what I see are not the same thing; to channel feelings, emotions and sensations into a sequence of scenes and shots takes some time and a bit of knowledge. Looking at my film now, or even shortly after shooting it, I can see how much I could have done in the writing process which is for me fundamental now, more than anything.

The filming was tough because there was so much that needed to be done in one day but at the same time it felt like the most natural thing in the world to me. It felt like everything I’ve learned as an artist and human being came together and I didn’t feel the dislocation that followed me my entire life because I refused to do only one thing. I remember people coming to me and asking questions, me replying like I knew what to do even when I wasn’t really there technically. I had time to learn prior the shoot but theory on its own can only give that much.

I know you are looking forward to hear about the sex scene. The first impulse is to tell you that nothing changes from any other scene... but it does. I was really focused on some technical aspects in the beginning but I had a lovely DOP and overall an experienced and responsive team of people working for me, so after a while I could let myself go a little bit. Then I started worrying about the sex performers, hoping they were ok and felt safe and as natural as possible. To be honest, I’ve lost my sleep over that and I hope I didn’t say something stupid or, even worse, that I wasn’t negligent! I cannot imagine a director being insensitive or dismissive, rude or lacking empathy and emotion, but I heard so many horror stories, no need to dig into adult industry for that.

Apart from all this, the most beautiful moment was the realisation. I was standing between cameras A and B, my DOP and camera operator were busy sweating and trying to get the best shots in one take, camera B hand held, me freaking out to get the details I wanted, it was so difficult not to be in the way of the action! And then I finally saw what was happening and there were two naked bodies in front of me, no filters, no framing, just two people having sex based on my script, my story was being told in silence interrupted by moans, deep breathing and me looking away to make sure my team was doing the best job they could. It was the realest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life and I wondered how it could also be so alienating. As a newbie and with limited time, I was probably too present during the filming, I wish I could sit back behind a monitor and make sure it looked the way I wanted it to look on screen... but it didn’t happen and I’m happy and grateful I was there physically, it was useful for me and perhaps helpful for the girls to feel safe, because I cared about them more than about myself even if I had to check in with my brain few times. That unconditional care for other human beings is rare for me, I must admit... And I am endlessly grateful to Caroline and Bonni for trusting me and sharing intimacy through a sweet performance, because being naked on camera and showing your own sexuality, even if filtered, takes courage and openness. It looks sometimes effortless but it comes with inner grace and strength.

One last thing I find extremely important! The performers found the gusts to tell me that they were a bit worried because there were so many men in my crew, and it was my job to reassure them and explain that I trusted those guys with my heart and as long as an individual is honest, professional and respectful, their gender doesn’t matter. I wanted all the genders to be involved, because it’s not about feminism for me anymore, it’s about equality, and even if I’m happy and excited for women to be more represented and representative in the porn industry, I still want men on board just as much. I enjoyed my position of power and I made sure I didn’t abuse it, I just wanted to make a good film and for everyone to feel free to be themselves.
In my interview on XConfessions you won’t find this, but I did say that on camera and I am sorry it has been edited out but maybe I wasn’t able to express how important it was for me, and I was still figuring out my gender identity, probably my orientation too, and even though I wanted my story to talk about bisexuality, I hope it now can be perceived just as a tender encounter between two girls figuring out their own sexuality; men shouldn’t be excluded, I feel like a man myself sometimes, so it would be like excluding myself.

Anyways! You can find my film on XConfessions, it’s called Coffee With Pleasure, and if you’ve known me for a while the title won’t sound like a surprise. You need to buy a subscription to the website, it’s fairly cheap considering that some human beings decided to show their genitalia and pleasure to you, so why not pay for that? It is a service, and it is a job. I’m not against mainstream free porn, it’s a choice, unless material has been stolen and uploaded somewhere it wasn’t intended to be originally. Please, choose wisely and remember people you see on screen are fucking (in every sense ah!) human beings, just like you.

I since then performed in a couple of projects myself but that’s a story for another time. Please feel free to ask me any, ANY questions via email or through my Q&A on Instagram, you know the game.

There are other technical and logistic problems in pre and post production but if you want to deep dive into my experience, I suggest you read the interview I’ve done with Mark Brennan on Exit 6 Film Festival, you can find it here! There is more about my point of view on what ethical porn is, what sex in the movies represents and what I think about the whole “shebang” (ah!) in general.

Backstage and stills by Kriz Barvsson and if you want to see me during the making of + the trailer of my film, click here.

Boundaries

There is no soft way to put it in words when you have been sexually abused as a child and that defined your sexuality and messed up your perception of friendship and intimacy. You can only become aware of it, accept it, hate it, hate everyone, use people, feel guilty about it, start the pattern all over again, and then finally take your life back.

I was seven when my twenty years old cousin made me think we were just playing a game, I don’t know if I trusted him, because does the concept of trust exist until it has been broken? I just automatically did what he told me, which was not much. It took me few years to realise what he’s done to me; it wasn’t shocking, it was a slow trauma creeping up on me; I don’t think it was painful either, I don’t remember. When I understood, at the age of sixteen I think, I broke down and everything changed and my whole sexual life was defined by desperately craving love by pushing everyone away if they treated me with respect.

After the first painful and humiliating realisation, I promised to myself that I wouldn’t allow my life to be defined or limited by what happened. I had no control, I know, but I aggressively moved to the opposite side by gaining all the control back and I forgot how to let go. If I could not let go, I could not reach the climax with the men I slept with. I faked it for years. I could not make myself so vulnerable in front of anyone, I could not give them so much control over me, it already happened once I would think and I didn’t want to be violated again.

I thought I had it all together, and as a friend of mine told me, a psychologist and before then one of my ex partners and maybe the only older guy I’ve ever had a committed relationship with so far, I probably did get through the trauma itself in my brain but that surely shaped my idea of intimacy and what I wanted from men. Lately in my years I’ve noticed there is always the same pattern with me dating younger and younger men, because they have less experience, because I am more in control, and then I complain that they cannot make a decision, that they cannot take care of me the way I could take care of them.  That was painful and scary to realise. What is left of me then? Did anyone I’ve been with so far matter or was it me looking for my cousin telling me to play a game without then betraying me? How can someone betray you if they don’t know what betrayal is?

The abuse and my fear of men confused me about my sexual orientation, too. I used to identify as bisexual and only now at the age of thirty I can say it to myself without feeling scared or guilty, because I know I love women (and all the other genders) based on a chemical and emotional spontaneous and natural responses, and not because they have never harmed me unlike men did. So many times I questioned myself and deprecated myself for what I felt only because there was something unprocessed and, I know my friends tell me not to use that word, damaged. And anyway, what has been damaged can be repaired, and using the words I feel like using gives me the freedom I didn’t have at the moment of abuse.
I am really fluid now, maybe on a pansexual spectrum, and this is the last chapter in which my gender matters. I just came out as non-binary neutral, not because I want to get rid of who I am, but because I am everything. I look back and everything makes sense, since I was five, or four, or when I was born, when I didn’t even have defined genitals in my mother’s womb. No one can take that away, no one can give that to me, I can only claim it when I’m ready, and I am. Oh I am so ready to be myself.

The photos you see in this series are of my band mates Harry, Charlie, and James; these three people are respectful and loving human beings and were also the most terrifying for me creatures because I’ve never let anyone so close without getting somehow sexual; I always thought that if there is intimacy, there is sexual tension, and maybe there is but it doesn’t have to take over my life, it doesn’t have to ruin a friendship. I still need to be careful in saying this because I am good at jumping from one end to another; so sometimes a friendship can turn into romanticism, and that’s beautiful, I just should stop being a victim of that pattern because of what I’ve learned at the age of seven, and I should do my considerations in a more pure way, if I can. I may still beautifully fail but that shall not stop me.

I wanted to photograph men I trusted, I wanted to photograph friends, and I wanted to portray them as I see them, and it’s not too different from how I see women through my lens. I have a really intimate approach and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world, that works fine, and it’s a safe way to explore myself and get to know someone. I wanted to shoot men the way I shoot women, softly, respectfully, sensually, and if I can get so close to women without ending up having sex with them, so I can do with men. The amount of information I gained from this shoot, which all happened in the range of two hours and in separate rooms for each person, is a lot and it’s warming my heart, because I can see men can be fragile and vulnerable but they will still trust you if you open up. Not everyone is here to use me. Now I know. And I owe everything to photography and music, it’s not the first time I cure myself through these elements. I love my band mates to pieces and part of that love comes from unknown spots of my broken heart, but most of it is a conscious decision and a lot of work in my fucked up brain. Gender really doesn’t matter and that’s why they now get the purest version of me. I will be eternally grateful for the existence of these three people in my life.

I know one thing above everything and a lot of work I still need to get done, and it’s an advice I want to give to anyone, victim or survivor of abuse, don’t let anyone tell you who you are or what you should do, not even a therapist tells you what to do, because only you know! And you know, and you’ll figure it out, you are already in the process, you are reading this because something is touched, and you are not alone and shame is not yours to manage because there is nothing to be ashamed of. You can only accept your pain until it devours you to death and you can be reborn. Surround yourself with real friends, not the ones who know everything about you but still want to be your friends, but the ones who only know that much but the more they know the more they love you.

The smell of your leaves

The sleeping bag is sticky against my skin and I can feel the grease in my hair even without touching it. I just want to get out of the tent and I know I’m not going to get any warmer but it’s the good kind of cold, because it smells like a new beginning, like whatever you’ve done in your life until then doesn’t matter, like it doesn’t exist, like you don’t exist, like you know no one and you don’t need to find a reason every morning.

I wonder if you’ve left the tent with the same feeling a touch earlier today. I wonder where you are. One day I’m going to be the first one to leave, I think....
I do get out and the world has been awake the whole night, I can see it in the dead colours, like the time stopped for the humans to catch up. I walk between the trees down the little hill, the leaves crack under my bare feet, and it hurts but only slightly, it’s the good kind of pain because it feels like I don’t need anything. I get the urge to feel that needling throughout my entire body, on every inch of my skin. Will you add the weight of your body for me to feel more like I need you?

I see you! Can you see me? I do lie down. I know you can see me now but you won’t smell me because I am under the wind, like a coyote firm in realisation of something that it can’t overpower. I close my eyes and open my legs, dry leaves tickle my thighs, your fingers sooth my sore skin. You moved fast, like a jaguar, paws so big but light on the claylike surface.

Your tongue gets inside me, and it’s wet and soft and fluid between the flesh, I can almost taste you from down there and I know you’re sweet because I can taste it in my mouth now, it’s like a reflex any time you are around. You just keep exploring me, drinking of me until nothing is left, until I am nothing and only then I can cum and drip what’s left of my body on your dry autumnal leaves.

All cried out

I can smell you, I reckon it’s... eight in the morning because of how the light reflects on the ceiling. I know you are not next to me because I can’t feel the pressure on the bed. You’ve left the usual scent of coconut, and something else, maybe it’s just how I perceive you, maybe it’s my sex on you, or yours on me.

I could write and rewrite this story thousands of times and I will always find new details to it, new perspectives, new ways of describing how much I still love you, and the way you pulled your hair up with millions of bobby pins that would never fall out. You probably have long hair now… but I’m not gonna check.

I can smell the coffee too, are you making it for me or for R.? Or both? Maybe he is not around. I hope he is not around because I wouldn’t know what to say and how to say it. I will meet him in the corridor later on and he will smile at me and look away, a bit of a paternal smile, the one I hate and still regret hating because it keeps confusing me when it comes to dating older men. “He knows” I will think, and that evening he will leave some chocolate and wine for us to enjoy. It should be a sweet gesture of acceptance, or forgiveness, understanding even; I know it is but I can’t stop feeling like it’s his way to get a little bit in between us. We don’t drink the wine, nor we unwrap the chocolate.

Instead... we fuck. The lights are dim and your body is the most surreal thing I’ve ever seen and felt and tasted. The way you move, the way you breathe, how your hands make my body stretch and tense up with the slightest touch. How quick I cum! Your tongue is precise, swift, the pressure is so perfect, and your fingers inside just do me right. I’ve never felt more natural, it’s never been so easy. When did it all become so complicated?

“The secret ingredient to sex, is love”. It’s you.