2016: A Year in Review

Holy shit, what a year.

When 2016 started, I had no idea what I was in for. I’m not going to lie, this year was an almost irrevocable shitshow. Some really fucking awesome highs, but some pretty abysmal lows as well. Not just for me, it seems, 2016 was hard for lots of people. I try and think on that as I look back over this trashfire that was 2016, I try and remember that no matter how hard it has been for me personally, there have been others suffering just as badly… and worse.

I’m tempted to say that this year has been a revelation that optimism for the future is a mistake, but something inside of me absolutely rejects that. You see, I like to think that I am fundamentally a good person. A poor human, maybe, but I wake up most days with the drive to improve, to better both myself and the world around me. I want good things for most people, and even with the shit that has gone down this year, I can honestly say that I still have no one that I can say I truly hate. If I’ve learned anything this year, it would be that hate really is the thing that we must always fight against. It’s so easy to fall into the miasma of anger and hurt and rage, and as Yoda so famously said, all of that is the path to the dark side.

Yeah, it’s a statement made by a fictional character, but it packs some very serious truth. It’s easy to dismiss it as just a silly thing said by a silly person, but I refuse to just accept that. Because while I can’t say this year renewed my faith in humanity, it has renewed some of my faith in community.  I watch and I see how people that have given in to anger and hate have devolved into people I can no longer recognize. I’ve seen good people become bad ones, and I’ve seen good people rise above their circumstances to trudge on, not giving into the anger that can come so very easily.

I’ve lost so much this year. It’d be easy to just dwell on that, to focus on that and just give up. Hell, it’s a fucking battle not to. My mental illness has reared its head in a very ugly way this year, and I’ve taken hit after hit to my faith in people, and my faith in myself. I’ve made some pretty big mistakes in my life, and this year, it was brought home to me how much those mistakes can cost me.

This year, I lost my connection to most of my family, the person I loved and continue to love with every part of me that still can love, my trust in the American electorate, and I very nearly lost my life. I learned I cannot rely on people I thought I could, and I learned that even though I like to think of myself as someone who is very observant, I missed something going on in my own home, and that cost me nearly everything. I didn’t see the damage that was being caused to someone I love, and even when I started to see it, I thought (selfishly) that I could handle it, that I was equipped with the tools necessary to just… fix everything. To my unending grief, I was so very wrong.

But even so, I also learned that there is an incredible strength in those I’ve chosen as family. So many of you stepped up and helped me in so many ways. I can honestly say that without your love and support, I would no longer be among you. There were so many times when I just wanted to give up, to just… go away. But not once did you let me go. There was always someone that stepped up and carried my burdens when I couldn’t, and I absolutely cannot thank you enough.

You taught me about love of family in a way that my actual family has so abysmally failed at. You taught me that there are people, LOTS of people, that care. That you won't let one of your own go quietly into the dark, surrendering to the morass of ills this world sometimes can be. This year taught me that my strength isn’t always enough, that I can’t carry everyone and everything, that I absolutely capable of cataclysmic failure. But you taught me that when my strength is gone, that you will step up and walk beside me until I have passed through.

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

In my grief, you were there. In my failing health, you were there. In my loneliness, you were there. In my weakness, you were strong. When I wanted to die, you gave me something to live for.

So many times this year has taken a swing at me, and even when I took hit after hit, there was someone or many someones there to help me back to my feet. Hell, some of you even took hits FOR me, and I have incurred a debt that I can never repay.

The world tried to teach me this year that love is not enough. You taught me that love is always enough. This gives me hope, and I look forward to 2017 with breathless anticipation.

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To the events that keep asking me back - Thank you for taking a chance on me. You have provided so many wonderful opportunities to meet and love so many amazing people, and I can only express my gratitude by continuing to try and exceed the expectations you have for me. Your trust in me is inspiring, and for that, I thank you.

To my students - I love doing what I do because of you. For each expression of wonder, for each wide eyed moment of understanding, for each breakthrough and expansion of self I’ve witnessed, these are my reasons for continuing to travel and share. So many of you have become more than just students or clients, you have become my friends, and that means the world for me. Your faith in me is humbling, and for that, I thank you.

To my play partners - holy shit, we’ve had some times, eh? I don’t understand why any of you would want to do some of the crazy shit we’ve done, but goddamn. I’ve had a lot of fun this year, and I’ve been the cause of a lot of tears, a lot of pretty vile oaths, some intense glares, and some really awesome moments of release. You share with me in ways that I am continuously in awe of, and the amount of love you have shown to me is staggering in its immensity. Your willingness to let go with me is amazing, and for this, I thank you.

To my fellow NARIX board members - This year was the year the experiment became a pattern. You have put up with my insanity, and together we have crafted a reality for a dream that many people said would never happen. You made me a believer, and you taught me that when we work together, we can make something truly wonderful. We have walked through the fire together, and that means more to me than words can adequately express. You dared to dream with me, and for this, I thank you.

To the bird - You taught me that I am not observant enough. You taught me not to ignore the words of my partners. You showed me that I can be manipulated by those that I trust, and that the single minded pursuit of self is shockingly destructive at the best of times. I learned a lot about my weakness because of your selfishness, and while I weep for the lesson, I have grown. I cannot forget what you have done, but I have learned that I can forgive you. Your machinations taught me regret as well as forgiveness, and for this I thank you.

To my chosen family - You have all stepped up and walked with me through the valley. You steadied me when I stumbled, you carried me when I fell, and you dragged me from my darkness in ways I desperately needed. When I wept, you wept with me. When I bled, you bled with me. When I broke, you held me together. You taught me that I am capable of crying tears of gratitude and love, and for this I thank you.

To ka - you taught me to live again. Together we explored a realm that was utterly terrifying for me. I learned that I am capable of feeling things, and your love helped me to genuinely feel alive. Because of you, I can see some people as people, and I was able to experience empathy in a way that was both immeasurably painful and breathtakingly beautiful. You helped me to become a better human, even though it came at the price of such heartbreak. I will never forget you, and I will love you until my heart ceases to beat. You were there for me when I needed you the most, and for this, I thank you.

To L - you love me even though I am broken. You love me even though I am incomplete. You love me even though I am failed. You love me regardless of my damage, and for this, I thank you.

To my kinky community around the globe - You taught me to have faith. In weakness, there is strength. In hate, there is love. You have surrounded me in love and support in ways I never thought possible, and for this, I thank you.

Three times is a pattern. (NARIX)

What a crazy ride it’s been.

We were basically kids, even though it was only five years ago. We were annoyed with the kinds of instruction we were getting at the cons we were going to. We went to these events, we met and compared notes, and realized that there was a gap between the kinds of things we wanted to learn, and the kinds of classes available. We wanted something more, something more complicated, something that challenged us.

Those late night bitch sessions were sprinkled with hours of intense conversation on very specific topics. We tied together, our fingers burned, our heads ached, our partners were exhausted, but our drive was all consuming. We had to know, we NEEDED to learn, to grow, to touch the infinite through herculean effort and a near insane dedication to a passion that burned within our hearts. Those conversations represented literally thousands of hours of time spent at home doggedly practicing our craft. Time and money. We’d spent both freely in this pursuit, and we gladly shared it with each other.

“What if there were more of us?” The question was obvious, but Shibaricon was never going to give us a room large enough to realized this barely tangible idea. Who were we? A couple of almost-nobodies. We’d all had a few pics go K&P, but our teaching experience was almost nil. We had no tangible presence in the Rope Pantheon that casually disseminated knowledge to the rope community. Those “gods” did their best, but we wanted more, and there wasn’t any place for it.

“What if we made that place?” Ha! The idea was laughable. None of us had the cash to fund an event. None of us had a place to even HOST a thing like that. “But what if there was?” Never. Not in a million years. Dejected, but not defeated. We had an idea, and we wouldn’t fail. The three of us? We each had a slightly different vision about what it would look like, but goddamn, if we didn’t have the dedication to make it work.

“EURIX. We could do something like that.” That was it. That would be our guiding idea, how we would start. But Europe is so very different from North America. Felix was doing some amazing things over there, but EURIX, as it was styled, wouldn’t work. But we had our visions, and we had to share it.

As we struggled with our dream, the rope community changed. We changed. We had started branching out, sharing our passion with others, and we were being recognized for it. Who were we? Just a group of rope nerds with dedication to a dream. People wanted us to share? How could we share? We were just students! But they asked, and they asked, and we did. We found others that were willing to share our dream, our vision.

And then there was a turning point, a place when we hit critical mass. We’d shared our vision, screaming our need into the void, and someone answered. “I can’t host this thing, but I CAN host a place for us to talk about it, and maybe we can find someone who can.” And three became four.

That was it. We met. We talked. Everyone was so excited, everyone was bubbling forth with ideas. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. THERE WERE OTHERS THAT WANTED THIS. Then, the impossible. “We can do it where I am.” And four became five.

Holy shit. There were five of us. AND WE HAD A PLACE. How did this happen? This was supposed to be a pipe dream! An impossible thing that OTHER people did. But it was happening. We built the place, we shared the dream, and we struggled with making that vision become a reality. We argued about everything. “EURIX does it this way…” “But North Americans won’t respond the way Europeans do. We’ve gotta do it THIS way”. Over and over, we hammered out the idea, until we had something that maybe, against all ideas, maybe it would work.

We opened the floodgates, and what was a trickle became a flood. “We’ve got to make decisions. We can’t accept everyone.” But what if there wasn’t another? How do we manage THIS many people? OH SHIT, there are LOTS that want to be there, to share this impossible dream. This suddenly POSSIBLE dream.

I don’t know how it happened. None of us really had any idea what we were doing. We brought our skills together, and SOMEHOW it happened. Three insane days, and our lives were changed. In the following weeks, we realized ours weren't the only lives that had changed. Somehow this dream that we’d sacrificed so much for had been birthed into this world, and people were listening.

Then it happened again. Sure, there were stumbling blocks, but we learned a lot and we evolved to match what was needed.

Then it happened again. Last weekend. Three times the impossible happened. Lightning never strikes twice, but THREE TIMES? Ben said it right. “Two times is an experiment, three times is a pattern.”

I can’t tell you how many times one of us would catch the eye of another, and a look of shock or bewilderment would pass across our faces. This was happening. Again. And again. And AGAIN. More than that, though. It was working. What had started out as a protest that we weren’t getting served had changed into something entirely unforeseen. We realized that it wasn’t just something that we wanted, but that LOTS of people wanted. And somehow we’d stumbled upon a way to make it happen.

It was never about us. Sure, we wanted to feed our own growth, but what we were doing was helping EVERYONE. Those initial conversations had shown us that it was something that would fill a niche that the bigger cons couldn’t fill. They served a hugely important purpose, created a space where a structure could be cut. NARIX was a place where those blanks could be hammered into shape, reforged, hardened. NARIX wasn’t about personal growth so much as it was about helping our COMMUNITY grow.

Inadvertently we’d created a place for the Tribe to congregate. Without meaning to, we’d built that Central Fire, and dancers came from all over the continent to share the Fire. Murphy’s said it so many times, but I never realized it until now. We are all singing the same song. I may have a part, a few phrases, but it wasn’t until I sang my part into the infinite with a whole chorus of others that I realized that my part was only a part of a much greater whole.

I realized I wasn’t singing alone anymore.

That’s what NARIX is. It’s not about me. It’s not about the board. It’s about singing the song with our tribe. It’s about finding family, and realizing that we all have something to share, something to learn from. That we can learn together, and we all get to share in the process of watching our song grow.

Just another rope guy.

I have heard it a thousand times, in a thousand different ways.

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

As if any of us could be encapsulated into a single overriding fetish. Sure, there are some that take their obsession with <<insert literally anything here>> and can become identified primarily with that one thing, but does that mean that they are ONLY that? I love Cookies ‘n Cream ice cream, but does that mean I am going to turn down a Rocky Road when it is offered?

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

I understand that rope is the vogue thing right now, and has been for the last several years. But, before that it was whips, and before that it was Gor, and before that it was something else. These things go through seasons, and yeah a bunch of really irritating people “jump on the bandwagon”, but that does not give you, me, or Lord High AllMighty SUPERDOM the right to disparage the entire fetish. So it may not be your thing for whatever reason, that does not mean that my kink is any less important to me than yours is to you. (And, vice versa, but that is another topic)

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

Yes, I am male, and unapologetically so. But I do not give a fuck about your gender, my gender, or anyone else’s gender. I think it should be irrelevant to anything aside from… oh wait, there is no exception. But I do identify as a male. Deal with it. But do not ever assume that because I am both male and a recognized adept in my chosen field that I am going to look down on you because you are none of those things. You are a young, attractive, curious female bodied person that identifies as a Rope Top? Fuck yes, let us talk rope nerd. You choose your own damn path, and I will interact with you in whatever role you prefer. Or multiple roles if you prefer that.

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

In this instance, yes, I am. I am a part of a community that has grown up around and blossomed within the greater kink community. There are lots of people that are like me that love rope. Even within that community, I am in an even further subcultured community in that I have a passion and skill that people have recognized and wish to emulate and learn from. That has brought me the benefit of knowing other incredibly talented and amazing people that share my level of enthusiasm and obsession with a thing, and that allows me to talk to them utilizing a vocabulary that a lot of people simply do not have.

But that does not make me special.

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

No. I am not.

And here is the thing that a lot of people seem to not realize or remember: I am a Leather Man first, a Daddy second, an Owner third, a Sadist fourth, and THEN I am a Rope Top. I have been in this lifestyle for a lot longer than you might think, long before I ever really started utilizing rope as a primary tool. Control, Domination/submission, sadism/masochism, protocol, eroticism, photography, all of these came into my life before I ever realized that I have a talent for a medium that people seem to love and obsess over.

I love rope. I really do. But it only features prominently in my life alongside many other things. It is a tool that I love to use, but in the end, it is just a tool. The passion I have is for people. I love touching people. I love communing with them. I love watching the person I am playing with run the insanity gauntlet of emotions while I am playing with them. I love being there when the realization dawns that they may have made a mistake, then the relief when it is over and they realize that they were stronger than they thought.

I love watching people fall in love with an experience. I love giving them that experience. I love tasting their fear, their hate, their love, their passion, their lust, their arousal, their excitement, their terror….. The list is nearly endless.

But that does not make me just another rope guy.

Traveling and sharing my passions with the kink community is really hard work. Most people assume that getting to do what I do is a dream come true, and in many ways they would absolutely be right. I get to spend half of my weekends each year doing crazy sexy cool things with some incredible people.

But it takes a tremendous amount of work. Hours and hours of practice. Hours of sitting in airports, or driving, or on airplanes, or busses, or trains. Even more hours developing classes that effectively communicate what people want to learn. It means living out of a suitcase for more weekends than I do not. It means (more often than not) spending this awesome and amazing time away from the people that I love. It means spending an entire day pouring my heart and soul into a thing, and going “home” to an empty hotel room, or at least one that my partner is not in.

It means a tremendous financial burden, because, shocking as it may be, kink presenters are not paid very much. Sure, we get to travel a lot, and now I will not travel unless the place I am traveling to picks up the tab. But that does not always mean breaking even. It means I often have to take extended days off of work to go and do something that I am passionate about, and to share it with people that are hopefully as passionate about it as I am.

It means that often I wonder if I am going to be able to pay my bills, because instead of working at my (not very lucrative job) I am sharing space with people I barely know. It is stressful and wonderful and exhausting and amazing and worrisome and incredible and lonely and and and and….

But you know what? I keep doing it. I choose to keep doing it. When someone reaches out to me, and asks what it takes to get me to go to whatever event, I work with them to make it happen. I give up my time, my health, my financial security, my sanity, and my private self, so that I can continue to travel and share and help people.

Why?

Because I am, at the end of the day, a Leather Man. That means that I hold to a path that I believe is far bigger than I am. That means that I ardently adhere to the philosophy that the skills and talents that I have do not belong to me. Rather, I hold them in trust for the greater community as a whole, and the people that will come after.

I have been presented with some amazing opportunities. Yes, I have worked very hard to acquire the skills and knowledge that I possess. I have dumped hours and hours of my time, loads of my money, and lots of blood, sweat, and tears into the skills that I hold.

But even when I have done everything in my power to acquire those skills, they would not be available to me unless I was a part of a community. A community that provides, that shares its' knowledge, that is welcoming, that is nurturing, that allows for opportunity to exist and the impetus to go and get it. So many people have stood before me, that have given me a hand up, shared advice, words of wisdom, of caution, of love, of motivation. I have sat for hours asking endless questions to people that I respect and admire, and they have sat there with me, sharing with me their knowledge and skill.

I am where I am today because someone who came before helped me climb that ladder just a little bit higher. They took some time to stop along their own path and to turn and shine a light back along mine to help me see where I am going. I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to each and every one of them, and I refuse to ignore that debt.

This is what Leather means to me. Yes, there are protocols, fetishes, codified knowledge, traditions, and rituals. Hell, there may even be some secret handshakes. But these are ever only part of the path, not the path itself. To me? Leather is about self actualization, about bettering oneself through the assistance and guidance of others. And when the opportunity comes for me to turn around and be that light for someone else? You better believe that I will turn and give it. Not out of hubris, or ego, or self aggrandizement, but out of humility, gratitude, a heartfelt appreciation for everyone who has done the same to me.

Aren’t you just another rope guy?

No. I am a Leather Man, and I am fucking proud to call myself one.

On Titles

I don’t give a damn about your title, unless I know you earned it.

I don’t give a damn about what title you refer to me with, unless I know I’ve earned it.

Through an odd course of events, the topic of titles has come up repeatedly in multiple contexts in the last few weeks, and I’m actually kind of tired of it. I’ve had the tremendous honor of knowing multiple title holders, as well as a few wonderful people I know and respect the title that they carry. Master this, Sir that, Dame whatever, etc. are all titles that don’t mean a fucking thing to me simply because you decided that you can assume this title.

Let me make something very clear from the outset: time “in grade” is not the sole metric for having a title. If you’re one of those people that thinks simply because you’ve been in the lifestyle for X years that you’re now entitled to wear the honorific of whatever, then I’m afraid you haven’t got the qualifications for whatever title you wish to bestow upon yourself. There’s the old adage of 10,000 hours of practice makes one a Master, but I must definitely disagree. Practice does not make perfect, PERFECT practice makes perfect. You may have spent 10,000 hours in sweaty practice on whatever you’re practicing at, but if you’ve been putting in sloppy hours and half-hearted practice, I don’t give a damn about how long you spent.

Titles are earned. Not all honorifics are titles.

Sir -

This is the only honorific I demand, and only from those specifically in service to me. I demand it as a token of respect, as an honorific. I require those in service to me to behave with respect and courtesy towards those that deserve it. It is a sign of respect to refer to someone as sir or ma’am, and in the south most of us were raised to refer to someone as either ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ as a sign of polite discourse. If I happen to call you either of these things, it is because it has been ingrained in me since birth to be respectful of those around me, even when I’m not entirely certain that they deserve it.

The Title of “Sir” or “Dame” is different, in that it has been awarded by a seated monarch. Obviously, few of those in the lifestyle have been awarded such an honor by a monarch, but I tend to hold the bearers of such titles to a similar standard as set forth in the nomination procedure for the title:

making a difference to their community or field of work

enhancing Britain’s reputation

long-term voluntary service

innovation and entrepreneurship

changing things, with an emphasis on achievement

improving life for people less able to help themselves

displaying moral courage

- Honours Application

In terms of the lifestyle, it is easy to see where the translation is. Instead of “Britain’s reputation”, I see it as “enhancing the lifestyle in general”, or “enhancing the reputation of X subset”

If I know someone has done all of these things, I see no issue with respecting their title of Sir or Dame.

In the Leather world, there are several procedures and protocols that go along with attaining the title of “Sir”, though I believe that many of them involve much of what is listed above. Since the majority of the Leather path involves service to the community, these titles are also ones that I greatly respect and honor.

Master -

This one is significantly more complicated.

The Oxford Dictionary has many definitions for “master”, and I believe a few of them are worth transcribing here:

1. chiefly historical - A man who has people working for him, especially servants or slaves:

“he acceded to his master’s wishes”

2. A man in charge of an organization or group, in particular:

“they had to act according to the dictates of the political masters.”

3. A skilled practitioner of a particular art or activity:

“I’m a master of disguise”

3.1 A great artist or musician:

”follow in the footsteps of the masters and paint in locations made famous by their work”

5.1 archaic A title for a man of high rank or learning.

There is an excellent article on attaining mastery over at Criver: The Journey from Novice to Master

By these definitions, many of us could be considered “Masters”, but it is something quite a bit more nebulous than that, I think. In the lifestyle, a Master must encompass all of the things listed above, but also must be more than that. I really love the Leather tradition of granting Coverings to those who have shown exemplary behavior, long service to the community, great effort expended in mastering their crafts and skills, proficiency in teaching and guiding others, helping to build and strengthen the community, etc. The title of Master is one that is not just granted because you’ve been in the lifestyle for forever, but because you have spent many years helping the community to grow and flourish, you’ve helped mentor and teach and guide many that have followed along the path, without ever forgetting that you are on the path as well.

The article I listed quotes Confucius: “I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.” They utilize this while reminding us that mastery is not a static thing, that in order to remain a Master, one must be constantly working to better their skills in order to retain them. “Without constant practice, the slip from Master to Journeyman is all too easy.”

I also want to add here that there is a significant difference in this title as well between the Title and the honorific. You “own” a slave, and s/he refers to you as “master.” This is an honorific, and it exists as a part of your dynamic. I respect your dynamic, and what you call each other is entirely up to you, but unless you’ve gone through what I’ve listed above, I am not going to accord you that Title OR that honorific.

There have been several people that have referred to me as a “Master”, and for now, I’m afraid that I must respectfully decline the title. Have I put in the 10,000 hours? Arguably. I’ve been in the lifestyle for a long time, and the vast majority of that time has been spent eagerly learning everything that I can and putting it into practice as much as I can. I work each day to learn and grow, to better myself as a human, as a leader, as an Owner, and as a practitioner of several different forms of art.

But I don’t think that I’ve attained this title yet. I serve my community, I work for it. I’ve trained and taught and mentored, but I still don’t believe that I’ve attained Mastery. Perhaps one day, perhaps not. Until that day comes, I will not use this title outside of a dynamic.

Even there, I don’t accept that title willy nilly. This is a title I must earn, even within my dynamics. I work towards mastery every day, and regardless of the practical aspects of my relationship with my property, the decision is ultimately theirs when they wish to call me “master”.

Daddy -

Of the three titles I’m going to talk about, this one is the most personal and the most difficult to define. I am a “Daddy” type. Even though I can be cruel and strict and brutal and violent, underneath all of that, I am a Daddy. But it is such a deeply intimate part of who I am and what I am that it is also the place where I am the most vulnerable. It is the place where my heart is open, my armor no longer shields me, a place where I can be the most hurt.

So I require my property to earn the right to call me Daddy. It’s not a title that is simply chosen at random. It isn’t just something that gets me turned on and ready for fuck. While it is that, it is also something special.

But even then, that’s not always the case. There are special exceptions, people that I have in my life that I allow to call me Daddy, but the context is very different. I am “daddy” as an honorific, not as a Title. These are people that I love and trust, and they may be “baby-”, but they’re not MY “baby-”, just as I’m not their Daddy.

Outside of my personal life? I respect that not everyone has the same definition for what “daddy” means to them. But because of how deeply personal it is in my life, I also expect them to respect that I cannot and will not call THEM “daddy” or “mommy”. I’ll just stick with “Sir” or “Hey you.”

In Service

How is it that some people feel that it is completely acceptable to wholly take leave of their senses?

What is it about D/s that breeds megalomaniac insanity? All right, I understand that being on the left side of the slash makes you feel powerful, but must that be at the expense of everyone around you?

There are a few things that I never really understood about D/s and the lifestyle in general. First, I don’t understand why some D-types feel the need to stress their D-ness on every single s-type around them, treating them like chattel, and yet expecting to be treated with the utmost respect and worship. Second, and it generally involves the same people, I don’t understand the idiot practice of “Dom-topping”.

Let’s descend into it for a bit, shall we?

So, you’ve decided to take the step into the BDSM lifestyle. You’ve decided that your lot in this world is to exist on the left side, and thus Your Name becomes synonymous with God Herself. The birds sing your praises, the hordes of the unwashed all bow and worship the ground upon which you walk, and all of those that exist in the Lifestyle that aren’t on the left side alongside Yourself are to be used as slaves and treated as though they are meaningless.

Wrong.

This lifestyle is full of all kinds of people. There are some that truly enjoy being broken down and used and abused, people that love being treated like trash, spoken down to, insulted... by the people that they love and respect. You, regardless of how many years you’ve been putting on your leather chaps and boots, are a veritable stranger. Even if you have a huge reputation, dozens of leather titles, bondage awards, headline appearances, you do not have the right to just go around treating them like they are worthless.

Even though there are some people that love being treated like they are worthless, that doesn’t give you the right to treat ALL people like they are worthless. Whatever happened to respect and being polite? So what, you have a title. I respect that you worked hard and got a covering, or your tireless work and dedication has earned you the reputation as one of the great Nawashi, or your photography is some of the best in the fetish world, that does not give you the right to stomp on everyone around you.

Over and over again I see people, big names and small, treat all the non D-types in a room like they’re nothing. Casually giving orders like some sort of miniature potentate, bossing everyone around, treating people with the casual disrespect of the imminently self-absorbed. It’s tremendously disrespectful, and it drives me up the wall.

I have been guilty of this as well.

I know what it is like to walk into a room full of people that know who I am, that respect my work and my knowledge, that fall all over themselves to provide whatever I want. It’s a heady drug, powerful, intoxicating, addicting. I’ve looked back over my reaction to this with horror. I have no right to chastise anyone for this behavior, because I have engaged in it myself. It is wrong, and abhorrent, and stupid. It lessens me as a man, even if my behavior is accepted, understood, expected.

Treat everyone with respect. Behave in a way that is above reproach. All are deserving of basic forms of courtesy, regardless of some sort of supposed “rank”. I have disregarded this too many times, for even once is too many, and I am utterly disgusted with it.

I strive towards service.

In all my exalted D-type ness, I strive to serve the community, the lifestyle that has sheltered and helped me. This is my life, the blood of my essence, the thing that lets me sleep at night knowing that when I wake up, I’ll still be a member of a group of people that will accept me for me, and not just because I can do cool shit with a camera or a length of braided grass.

When I travel, I am in service to the Event that I am traveling to. I take it as a personal goal of mine to help, to answer questions, to be accessible. If I can help only one person to find a deeper understanding of this whole kink thing we’re involved in, I will consider the trip a success. If one person can take something I share and can bring it into practice in their own life, then I will know that my service was a success.

In the end, I want to be known as a kink/lifestyle educator. Not as a photographer, not as a mad scientist of sadism, or even as a rope top. I love this world, I’ve given up more than you will ever know to remain a part of it, because I cannot simply cut it out of my heart and soul. And as you have given to me, I will give of myself until there is nothing left to share.

But, even this, does not grant me some sort of freakish “betterness”. I am just like you. A person first, a kinkster second. It doesn’t grant me magical powers. It doesn’t make me greater or lesser than anyone else. It doesn’t give me license to treat anyone like shit, in fact it should force me to treat everyone with respect, whether I believe that they deserve it or not. You are people. You are family. I should always treat you as such.

Unless you consent to otherwise. Then I will piss on your soul and shatter your beautiful little world.

On Rope Bombing

Recently, I was approached by a fellow rigger who just received a bunch of flak for going on a rope bombing expedition. He asked for my help and support, and I give it whole-heartedly. However, his situation highlighted a few things about the whole concept of rope bombing, and how it relates to "outing the scene". So, I'd like to share a few of my experiences.

I've now gone on many guerrilla shibari excursions in several cities in two countries. Big or small, my list of cities I've tied publicly in keeps growing, and I have never had a single bad experience in dealing with the local constabulary, and only one negative one while dealing with a member of the general public. I contrast that with over a dozen positive interactions with the police, and more excellent interactions with the public than I can recall.

I live in a very very conservative city. While it may be a rather large city in both population and actual square mileage, it is a city where all local politics are dominated by a central huge and extremely conservative christian church. They are elitist, conservative to a T, and very much against progressive thought. Ever wonder why there isn't a working semi-public dungeon in Jacksonville? It's because of that church. Small town lack of openness to progressive thinking isn't limited to small towns, I assure you.

And yet, even though I've been approached by the police several times during my excursions, I've never once been asked to stop, told to leave, threatened with imprisonment or fines, or anything other than curiosity and a polite respect for the work I'm engaging in. Even when my bottom jokingly told a random passerby that she needed help (seriously? why?) the police officer just walked up, asked if everything was ok, and then ambled off on his own business.

That doesn't mean we've never been stopped. We were tying in Atlanta, but we were tying in the Coca-Cola park, and a police sergeant showed up and asked us what we were doing. He asked if we had permission from Coke to take photos there, and we said no. He then told us we couldn't shoot there, completely ignoring the fact that my partner was all tied up. He didn't care in the least about that. Not only that, when I asked him if he knew any better places to shoot, he suggested several that were in walking distance from where we were. He was polite, non confrontational, even helpful.

Again and again, we have gone on rope excursions, and again and again we've been approached by the curious, the impressed, the polite. Not everyone has been polite, but most are merely curious. The single instance where someone wasn't, it was an old hobo that was clearly crazy. Ranting and raving about how what we were doing "wasn't right". In the end? He decided that we should all just pee on the model hanging there, and went on and on about it.

Now, this is just my experience. When I set up for a rope run, I rarely plan anything specific. My partner and I go where we can and we just set up and tie. If I'm planning something risky, I plan it seriously. I take a crew with me, and we do it fast. We pre-tie everything we can, set up, shoot, take down and go. Even then, there are rules I follow.

For unplanned expeditions, I never shoot nudes or even nearly nudes. Fully clothed, at all times. I also never tie in any way that is provocative or sensual. It's all business machine tying. Quick, efficient, and as visually appealing as I can make it without including nudity or suggestive behavior. I also will not tie around children or the elderly. If I'm in a place where there are a bunch of kids playing, no dice. If I find a playground that looks like it'd be an awesome shoot location, I don't tie until late late at night.

If I am making a planned expedition, I never do full nudes. Pasties or electrical tape, with panties. To this date, I have never made an exception to this rule. I also make sure I have at least one other person with me. They either help with the tie, take the photo, or stand lookout. If I have a crew, we all have an assigned task, a specific goal in mind, and we plan each step of the event.

When we get curious onlookers, I answer their questions politely and quickly. I never turn it into a show or do anything to garner extra attention. I don't include anyone outside the group in what we're doing. I never let anyone touch my bottom, I never offer to tie anyone up, I never reach out and engage them. Speed, efficiency, and safety are my primary concerns, then I worry about the photograph. I keep my eyes open, I do not allow myself to get completely drawn into the act of tying, I maintain awareness of everything going on around me.

When the police arrive, we stop everything as safely and swiftly as possible. If I'm in the middle of a lift, I get my bottom to a safe place and stop. If I'm shooting, it's over. We converse with the police officer as clearly and honestly as possible. We are artists, engaging in a free speech activity, not intentionally breaking any laws. We comply with any lawful requests made by the police, politely responding to everything they ask.

And that's the key. At no point do I engage in aggressive or antagonistic activities. Even when the bum was hurling insults at us, we were polite and respectful. We did not engage with him at his level, nor did we just coldly dismiss him. Ultimately, we were forced to just ignore him as we finished up what we were doing, but never once did we allow ourselves to be drawn into a confrontation.

As for outing our scene or the scene of the people we are visiting? We've never had a complaint about it. I'm sure there have been a few that didn't like it, but they have never spoken to me about it. Because here's the thing. I'm not outing anyone. Everyone volunteers, no one shows up risking anything they're not prepared to risk. Even then, we don't engage in any activities that reflect any of the other aspects of the lifestyle. I don't hang my bottom and beat her. I don't ductape her mouth and play interrogation while they're hanging. I don't do abduction play, or humiliation/degradation. When I'm tying rope on the run, that's all I am doing. It is art, and it is fun, it is not about BDSM or even really about bondage.

Most people that watch what we are doing aren't thinking about fetish or how we're doing some sort of kinky bondage-y thing. We're joking around, laughing, playing. My bottom and I routinely laugh and talk to each other the entire time, maintaining an atmosphere of light-hearted fun, nothing threatening or dirty. Just two people, possibly lovers, having a good time expressing themselves in a way that is clearly artistic and fun.

So, in the end, rope bombing does have a risk, it is dangerous, for a multitude of reasons. Yes, someone could be offended and get butthurt by thinking that we are forcing our kink on other people, that we are outing. We really aren't, but that doesn't keep people from thinking that. Someone with ill intentions might walk up on your setup and decide to do something nefarious and dangerous. The cops might show up and you might get fined, or even spend the night in jail. There are risks, as with everything, but that doesn't stop me from engaging in my art.

When my muse calls, I can't help but listen.

Equality

Marriage.

A word, like many others, yet attached to an act that is treated as a sacred oath by many people all over the world. The institution has been called outdated, pointless, sacred, specific, a joke, unequal. It has been lauded, laughed at, scorned, adored, revered, insulted. Some call it a useless anachronism linking us to a past we no longer need, while others use it as a rallying cry to forward their own agendas, and still others cling tightly to it while the world shatters around them.

I have heard it said many many times, usually by straight people talking to non-straight people, “Why keep fighting for it? It’s a useless affectation, and it doesn’t change the way you feel about your partner!” Except that it means so much more than that, but most heteronormative people can never really understand that. To many, if not most of them, it is an institution that is so built into their psyche that it is often taken for granted. “Of course, when I’m ready, I’ll find some girl to get hitched to, spawn a few kids, settle down.”

To these people, even those that revere it, it is taken as a given that if they find the right person, they will get married and move through the rest of their life in wedded bliss, happy in their little institution. They move through life with only ever wondering if they can afford the right cake, or the perfect dress, or if they can get a real band and not a DJ, which church to have it in, to host it outside or inside, what time of year, all of these little minute details building up to something many people have been looking forward to their entire life.

Except, for some, it may never be a reality. No matter how many dresses she looks at, she might never get the opportunity to marry the woman she has given her heart and soul to. It does not matter if the tuxedo fits, there is a very good chance that he will never get to wear one as he stands at the altar with his soulmate.

This is why it is more than just a word talking about an institution, why the fight for marriage equality is not a fight to grant some the right to join in a union that millions around the world never even think twice about whether or not it is even legal. No, it is a fight for one person to be able to stand up and say "I am a human, with the same rights as you."

The fight for civil liberties in the United States did not end with desegregation and the passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Discrimination did not just end, racist hate did not simply go away. It is a fight that continues to this day, and it only continues because there are many that believe that just because the color of the skin is different, that one race is somehow better than another. Person Y may hate Person Z because they have different skin colors, racial backgrounds, ethnicities, or even cultures, but that absolutely does not give Person Y the right to pass laws that restricts Person Z's rights. We laud the civil rights leaders for their successes in the fight for equality, and most Americans would laugh at the idea of de-legalizing interracial marriage. "Pass a law that says a black man cannot become president? How silly would THAT be?"

Except that that is exactly the same as saying that a lesbian cannot become President. Oh, we wont come out and say "No lesbians allowed on MY watch!" But it amounts to the same. We are still guilty of mass discrimination, we still turn our noses up and say "We are free, but YOU are not. Now go back to your corner."

"But, but, but…" you might say to me. "What about the Bible? And the Law of God?"

First, where in the Constitution of the United States does it say that WE THE PEOPLE are to subject ourselves to Biblical law, or to the law of ANY religion? Let me give you a spoiler, it does not. What it DOES say is:

 Article VI (3)

3: The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.

And

 Article I of the Bill of Rights (also the First Amendment)

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

But, let us ignore federal law, and let us instead focus on the purely Biblical aspects.

 Leviticus 20:13

If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood [shall be] upon them.

 Leviticus 18:22

Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it [is] abomination.

Wow. That does sound pretty damning. For those of you that have not spent long hours pouring over the Bible, Leviticus is a long list of Thou Shalts and Thou Shalt Nots. It is basically the terms and conditions of God's Covenant With Man. It details not only the laws of God, but lists the punishments both temporal and spiritual for breaking these laws. It all pours from the premise that Mankind has sinned and without repentance, sacrifice, and a strict adherence to God's law, Man is damned to eternal hellfire and separation from God.

Except, according to New Testament Christianity, the ultimate sacrifice was made.

 John 1:14

And The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of The Only Begotten of The Father, full of grace and truth.

Yeshua bin Yoseph was born of a virgin and walked among us, and fulfilled the law. At the Sermon on the Mount, he spoke on it and said:

 Matthew 5:17

Do not think that I have come to revoke The Written Law or The Prophets; I am not come to revoke but to fulfill.

So, because of the sacrifice of the Word-Become-Flesh, the old laws of Leviticus were no longer applicable. If a Christian accepts the Lord Jesus as their savior, then they no longer need to adhere to draconian dietary laws, refuse to wear multiple types of fabrics, never shave their forelocks, etc. etc. etc. As for homosexuality? What did Jesus say about it?

 The New Testament

…

But, the New Testament does have some beautiful words on love.

 John 13:34-35

“I give a new commandment to you: 'Love one another; just as I have loved you, you should also love one another.' “ 35“Every person will know by this that you are my disciples, if you shall have love one to the other.”

 1st John 4:7-12

7Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God, and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God, 8Because God is love, and everyone who does not love does not know God. 9In this the love of God is known to us: for God sent his only Son to the world so that it shall live by him. 10In this is love: it was not that we loved God, but he has loved us, and he sent us his Son, the atonement for the sake of our sins. 11Beloved, if God loves us in this way, we are indebted also to love one another. 12No person has ever seen God, but if we love one another, God abides in us, and his love is fulfilled in us.

So, I ask you: If Yeshua spoke to us of love, loving each other as we love ourselves, if his teachings lead John to say that if we love one another, God abides in us, then why must you speak only of Homosexuality as an abomination worthy of hate? I can understand that you may not wish to engage in homosexual acts, and that is a choice that YOU make, but why must you make that choice for everyone? And if you insist that it is biblically imperative for you to abolish homosexuality, then why are you getting divorced, wearing unbiblical clothing, shaving all the time, and engaging in other prohibited activities? I do not believe that you get the luxury to pick and choose. Either you accept that Yeshua abolished the law and came to be your savior, or you deny him as Peter did and continue to preach the Biblical law Yeshua DIED to fulfill.

To conclude what has become a far lengthier sermon than I intended to write, I leave you with this thought. Above I posted a link to a video of a young Jewish boy speaking from his heart about Marriage equality. A boy who carries a belief in a religion that has at its core a law that states that homosexuality is an abomination. And yet, he has the courage to speak out in front of his congregation, his friends, family, peers, against inequality. He speaks out in favor of love, in favor of peace, in favor of all the things that I believe Yeshua was trying to tell us. Love your neighbor as you love thyself.

So far, all I can really say, is there are an awful lot of Christians that seem to really hate who they have become.