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Pain of Pleasure

Updated: Jul 8

.... the struggle for easy love



This art piece "Pain in Pleasure" is an articulation of the other side of intimacy, it reflects the marks that can be left when you risk vulnerability. "Pain in Pleasure" depicts two disembodied lips embracing rendered in acrylic paint, the saliva in watercolor. Painted on a collection of paper symbolic of the nature of relationships and the people in them, both must be cared for or they can easily tear, become marked, or damaged; just like paper. Just as the need for intimacy is rooted in something deeper, the ripped and taped-together paper canvas is attached to wood that has also been marred. Surrounded by encroaching darkness and amongst crosses, finding who you are along with what you want and need can seem like moving in the dark. The sounds of society, the sounds of family, the sounds of the media, and the sounds of confusion and conflict, can drown out the sound of your own voice of self. Causing you to find yourself without light, searching for intimacy in the dark.


A Hiccup in the Heart


It starts with a pang, it ends with a pang

in the middle there's hope, but the story's the same.

There's a rocket to the moon...a moooooon rocket,

only the divine can fly

the stars have been branded...the unbuyable bought?

for the shallow

faux shallow

the shamefully low

Breath in deep, then let it out slow, slow, slooww, slowwer

stand on your head, plug up your nose

to get rid of hiccups

but not of the heart...with those you're fucked.

Got something to say!?


A complaint, a comment,

spewage of nonsense

down a listening drain

then...


Write me a note and I'll read it tomorrow

-Leeonnista



Sometimes it's the society you grow up in or culture. Perhaps it's the way you were raised or who raised you. Whether it's who you love or how you love, for many people, for many reasons love is a struggle and often full of pain.


Because many of us were not blessed with the gift of easy love, we understand the "Pain in Pleasure". We carry with us the acute knowledge that more often than not any form of intimacy will probably leave cuts if not deep wounds.

And yet with this knowledge, we still venture out into the world and dip our toe into the great abyss. Calloused and covered in scars we attempt what feels like the impossible.



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