In the meantime I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure whether I’m writing this for my readers or for me. Usually I write to impart knowledge, or argue ideas; today I’m writing what is effectively a list of reminders. Or perhaps it’s a list of promises. Either way, it is a list which will probably prove more useful to me than to you. On the other hand, if I’m having trouble keeping up with my various projects, I can only imagine how lost you are. And I remain convinced that I do still have a handful of readers who care where my work is, and what I’m up to. So, in the spirit of being a good host, here goes…

• Bad Porn Club is the new podcast from Mister Gryphon and myself, wherein we talk all things bad porn. In our pilot episode we discuss the curry house in Wimbledon that has seen fit to distribute condoms with their kormas, we review the seminal 1976 classic, Alice in Wonderland (pictured right), and we introduce our twisted audio quiz, Porn or Labour.

• The Novice Non-Monogamist, my Life on the Swingset (pictured below) blog, is one place where I have been writing fairly consistently, and will continue to do so. In my weekly Friday articles I discuss the lessons I’m learning, and the mistakes I’m making, as I traverse the landscape of non-monogamy.

• (It Girl. Rag Doll), you may have noticed, is currently over-populated by Protected Posts. With a new job under my belt I’m having to up my privacy a little, but with some tweaking of my online presence I’m hoping that won’t be the case for too much longer. Meanwhile, if you want access to these posts, email me on harper (at) itgirlragdoll dot com, and I will take your request into consideration.

• The Reading Press has also been neglected in the month of May, as I was completing coursework and revising for exams, but now that June has arrived it’s business as usual. For those of you who don’t know, I read approximately 100 blogs, and The Reading Press is a twitter-based digest of the best writing and media around.

• Sex Bytes – of which I am honoured editor – is an interactive reading digest, where you can submit blogs and articles – by you or others – and vote for your favourites. Every month, the top voted post will be featured in the e[lust] digest as the reader’s choice.

• The (It Girl. Rag Doll) Podcast has also been quiet throughout the heavy coursework/revision season, but will be back very soon! In the meantime there are two full episodes there for you to listen to, and if you subscribe to the blog and/or iTunes, you will be notified of new episodes as soon as we’re back in the swing of things.

• Send Harper to Eroticon USA! is going incredibly well. Thank you so much to everyone who has donated. It looks like the trip is going to happen! but I still need to reach my goal in order to book flights and confirm everything, so if you are able to donate to this worthy cause, it would be much appreciated.

• Strummed, which features my story And the Midnight Trio, is available as both an eBook and a paperback, from Amazon and Smashwords. Grab yourself a copy, and if anyone feels like writing a review, let me know and I will give your blog/site/post a little shout out.

• For a Few Dollars More, a slightly more transgressive piece of fiction, is available on Ether Books for a mere 69p. Again if you read it and feel like writing me a review, let me know and I will promote your blog along with the review.

And I think that’s all I have to say for now. Times are changing, and I’ll keep you updated on everything as it happens. Watch this space.

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• I have set up a GoFundMe page, and am striving to raise enough money to get myself to Eroticon USA in October. If you can, please donate and help me get across the pond.

• Strummed (left) – which contains my story, And the Midnight Trio – is now available as a paperback as well as an eBook.

• In addition to my work here, I am now writing for Life on the Swingset as well. My weekly blog, The Novice Non-Monogamist, is about my experiences in non-monogamy, and how I am navigating alternative takes on relationships.

• Somehow I managed to persuade the glorious Molly Moore to come on board and co-host the all new (It Girl. Rag Doll) Podcast with me! A new episode every month, full of laughter, filth, and thoughtfulness.

• About seven months ago I posed for artist, JP Rakehorn. Last week I was delighted to see that the photographs he took of me had yielded something good (right). You can find more of his work on his site, or you can ‘Like’ his Facebook page.

• Speaking of Facebook pages, you can ‘Like’ mine too – Harper Eliot’s It Girl. Rag Doll. You’ll get all my updates as well as reading recommendations via @TheReadingPress. (Although I won’t lie to you: following @HarperEliot on twitter is still the best way to stay in touch with me.)

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Although most of the photographs in the exhibition have been up on her site it really is a very different experience to look at them printed and framed. And, in fact, I was lucky enough to spend a little time amongst all the mounting equipment and the glass polishing during the run up to the exhibition, and just the difference between seeing them being prepared and looking at them hung on the walls at Sh! was exciting.

One of my favourite things about Molly’s photography is that she is confident enough to indulge in true exhibitionism when she wants to, but also understands how to capture atmosphere and eroticism without being at all explicit. Amongst photographs that display her body and her submission, there are other far subtler shots. These photographs are, perhaps, erotically charged if you understand the source, but would be completely acceptable on a living room wall. It’s not an easy thing to do, but Molly captures these moments beautifully.

If you would like to go and see A Taste of Molly, her photographs will be adorning the walls of Sh! on Hoxton Square until the end of February, for free! (Gentlemen need to be accompanied by a lady in order to visit Sh!, except on Tuesday evening between 6-8pm when the men are allowed to roam free.) If you want to take a piece of Molly home, I suggest you go soon and pick out your favourite shot.

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What is particularly striking about the time at which Gli Asolani was published is that Venice in 1505 was truly at the heart of the Renaissance, and the Renaissance was really the point at which our modern world and our modern way of thinking began. Before that, in the Middle Ages, we still had feudalism and chivalry: but with this rebirth came a kind of enlightenment and a desire for invention. So it is understandable that anything that was born or heralded during the Renaissance period was likely to have a long-lasting impact on the world that came after it.

With all of this in mind, it doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch to suggest that perhaps Gli Asolani may in some small way be responsibile for the way sex is blushed and smirked over in the modern world. It at least bears thinking about; and maybe some further investigation might be worthwhile.

This article is meandering a little as the topic of rebirth does not offer particular evidence to any argument I might want to make. However, it not only seems extremely poignant at this time of year, but also lends itself beautifully to a handful of things I’ve been meaning to mention. Furthermore, I am between two pieces of coursework this week so, for myself, a chance to let the reins loosen on form and structure is a welcome breath of fresh air. But don’t be alarmed! I will still tie this article up at the end by referring you back to Bembo. Never you fear.

Over the past two weeks I’ve read many articles about turning over new leaves and making resolutions; about reflecting on what has gone before and planning what is yet to come. Funnily enough I’ve probably read more articles pointing out that the author is “not the kind of person who makes resolutions”. But one thing seems clear: for the vast majority of us, whether we like it or not, the sense of rebirth, as 2013 begins, is in the air, and we are aware of it. As for myself, I actually love making resolutions, but have found that making them purely because it’s the beginning of the year is a surefire way to meet with failure. So I make resolutions as and when they feel necessary. For example, in May 2012 I decided to stop lying and began to make a concerted effort to always be open and honest, even if that meant being honest about the fact that I have some secrets I am not willing to tell. All in all, I succeeded, and will continue to endeavour to be honest because, on the most basic level, it makes life simpler.

To anyone who has known me for a year or more – me, Harper, that is; or Lady Grinning Soul, as I was formerly known, – it will come as no surprise that I thrive on the concept of rebirth. The very fact that I changed my name, and my website is proof enough. Making such a huge transition comes at a cost, but one I was willing to pay for the excitement of renewal. Add to that the fact that I more recently deleted all my short erotic fiction from this website and heavily edited the non-fiction content, and I’m sure you can see a pattern emerging. There is something extremely addictive about wiping the slate clean and starting again. Speaking of which, I will give a moment’s nod to the fact that I am now ‘out’ as a sex writer and I’m hoping the effects of outing myself will provide some interesting topics later in the year. As yet I am still waiting for the fallout or, in fact, any reaction whatsoever from my family and school friends. Watch this space.

(Another point worth making, and worth researching: with the new year and (if you make them) new resolutions, come new projects. A handful of people have begun or renewed 365 projects – myself included – and others have taken on the more dramatic Day Zero challenge, so the new year also offers the opportunity for new inspiration and new projects to follow.)

But back to my starting point. The Renaissance was actually about the rebirth of antiquity; it was to do with retelling and recreating the stories of Ancient Gods, and great heroes. The idea that the common man is worth artistic attention is, in fact, a fairly recent one which, despite having some exposure in theatre beforehand, wasn’t really considered worthwhile until the birth of the novel in the eighteenth century. However, I think it would be fair to say that, despite its long-standing prevalance, our reverence of antiqutiy has not, actually, lasted until today. It has fallen a little short because of world-changing events like the second world war. Furthermore, if we look at rebirth on a smaller scale, and I’m talking, again, about those new year’s resolutions, they don’t seem to last either.

So – and here’s where I wrap it all up, ever so neatly and eloquently – perhaps Bembo isn’t really to blame for our outdated attitudes to sex, after all.

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As 2012 draws to a close, the world is – once again – becoming reflective. Of course, the difference between channel 4 and I is that I am not so much considering the Olympics as I am considering Eroticon, and Radiohead at the O2; but basically the urge to summarise and evaluate the year is comparable. Still, I won’t bore you with the fine details of my year, or pretend to be an expert who listened to all the new albums over the past twelve months – no. In fact, the topic of this article is something that has only been brought to the forefront of my mind in the past few days.

Back in October, when Skyfall was released in UK cinemas, Simon Mayo read out a listener review  on Wittertainment in which the film was described as a roller coaster “with bits coming out of it like what James Bond’s parents were called!” I’m paraphrasing a little, but that was the measure of it. At the time I laughed and nodded in silent agreement. In theory I have no problem with this: there is certainly space for big, exciting blockbusters with pleasing addenda. There is a quiet kind of shared satisfaction when a film relates to the minutiae of characters’ lives, or subtly refers back to a prequel.

However, this kind of film making is not without fault. Taking a moment to think back over this year’s biggest films – Prometheus, Avengers Assemble, Skyfall, The Dark Knight Rises – none seem to be plot- or character-driven. Despite all its promotion and hype, I’m not really sure what Prometheus’ driving force was; I suppose you could argue that Avengers Assemble is character-driven, but only in the most cynical way; Skyfall seemed to be more about “rebooting Bond” and celebrating the 50th Anniversary; and whilst The Dark Knight Rises certainly had a tale to tell, it would be naïve to ignore the seven feature length Batman films that preceded it and how lucrative they may have been.¹ But, for me, things didn’t really come to a head until this Sunday just gone, when I made my way to the cinema to see The Hobbit.

As I’m sure is true for many people, Tolkien’s first novel was an important part of my childhood. Compared with The Lord of the Rings’ three, hefty volumes, The Hobbit is far easier for parents and children to cope with. Until The Fellowship of the Ring was released, as far as I was concerned, The Hobbit was the important part of Middle Earth. Don’t get me wrong, I love The Lord of the Rings, in all its grandeur and excess, but even then, at the age of eleven, I had a strong sense of how its many intertwined plot lines and complex enormity miss The Hobbit’s very particular charm. The Hobbit may lack the magnitude of the battle at Helm’s Deep, and compared with Frodo’s quest to destroy the ring, Bilbo’s adventure is a fairly light-hearted affair, but whilst The Lord of the Rings may be bigger, it is not, necessarily, better; and this is precisely what I feel is missing from modern film-making: the beautiful, fine, delicate art of constructing one, compact, exquisitely woven story. In less than three hours, thank you very much.

I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that after three epic films, Peter Jackson might embrace the chance to take on something simpler; but no such luck. I am not even cynical enough to believe that the torturous lengthening of The Hobbit was a purely finance-based decision. From an interview with Jackson, I gleaned that this decision was based on a change in consciousness. Filmmakers no longer feel that audiences will be satisfied with something small or simple, and, on the whole, they are probably right.
In retrospect there is still a lot of appreciation for simpler films. Between cinema trips this year I also saw Black Narcissus, The Philadelphia Story, and Some Like it Hot. Each one is a perfect example of an entire story arc, beautifully constructed in one two-hour film. None of them play to the gimmick of having “bits coming out of” them. None of them have been stretched and decorated to create something longer. As I say, in its place, ornamentation and grandeur can be wonderful – The Lord of the Rings is, really, exactly what it ought to be – but in other cases films – such as the The Hobbit – have sorely suffered at the hands of this trend.

Of course, films are not restricted to these two forms. There is plenty of space in cinema for experimentation, character-driven plot lines, and stories that leave the viewer with an intangible sense of dissatisfaction. But, understandably although regrettably, I don’t think many people flocked to see Holy Motors this Autumn.

However, there is another genre of film that takes the simple story arc very seriously and uses it consistently: children’s cinema. Whatever else you might say about Disney, they know how to construct an engaging story and tie it all up neatly, and if you aren’t partial to supporting Walt’s legacy, Pixar do it very well too. But surely, when we think of Black Narcissus and Some Like It Hot, it’s clear that reserving this kind of cinematic film making for children is something of a waste. And letting stories like The Hobbit slip past this trick, is even more of a waste.

I don’t mean to preach and moan about change – although I’m also one of those people who despises 3D for being nothing more than a fast-selling gimmick – and I will proudly say that I really did enjoy The Dark Knight Rises and Skyfall; but I also miss the beauty of simple stories, immaculately executed. And I do think that amidst the clamour of films made to fulfill the desire for gimmick and effects, we are losing sight of story telling, not to mention generally good film making. Surely there is space enough in cinema for both fast-paced blockbusters, and precise art.

1. In addition to the films I have listed Breaking Dawn pt. 2 and The Hunger Games were also released this year. Since they are both based on popular books, it may be the case that they somewhat buck the trend of the others, being plot- and character-driven, although I do wonder if Breaking Dawn might have been undermined a little by being split into two parts. However, I have yet to see either of these films, so I am ill-equipped to comment on them.

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So what is it about being too mentally conscious that I dislike?

I have a theory, which I have presented it to a handful of people, all of whom – thus far – have agreed: there is something about being human that causes a longing to escape the individual, to be outside the confines of one single body. I suppose you could link this back to loneliness, which is all too common an issue: there can be something deeply lonely about existing in a single, detached skin – which of course, almost everyone does. But whatever the reason for this strong, singular, sense of self, sex seems like the perfect answer. Sex is as close as a person can get to merging with another. It connects bodies – and in many cases feelings too – and allows an individual to immerse himself in shared sensations. I have come across those who would describe sex as ‘two becoming one’. However, I don’t quite buy this idealism.

First of all, unless the two people having sex know each other extremely well, there is bound to be some awkwardness, and that kind of discomfort is felt in the skin: in writing we often come across phrases like “skin crawling” or descriptions of the hairs on the back of the neck, things that are very much to do with personal exteriors. Therefore, unless one or both of the people involved are intoxicated – in which case I would argue that they aren’t really present – it can’t be possible to lose oneself in a stranger.

Despite my skepticism when it comes to merging with someone else, I do believe it is possible to get extremely close. There are times when the soul of a partner seems close enough to touch, when that connection is tangible. But being that close can also have a “so near and yet so far” sense to it. For a person to be able to feel how invested he is in his partner, whilst simultaneously knowing that he can’t ever really touch or become that feeling can make him feel even lonelier; and even if he can invest in that moment and believe it heart and soul, at some point it has to end, and the separation of bodies, the severing of that connection can be devastating.

But let’s consider for a moment: sex is not always such a terrible, lonely experience. For one thing, this deindividualisation cannot possibly be the aim of every person who has ever had sex. Perhaps, for some, it is about asserting their individualism, about touching that edge, safe in the knowledge that on the other side they will still be their particular, whole self. For others, perhaps the connection they feel in that moment lasts: perhaps it spills over into daily life through the security and love they share with their partner. And, surely, there must also be those who find the loneliness and the desperation arousing. Furthermore, I believe there is a good argument to be made for the prevalence of other desires: pain, for example, can have the effect of taking a person outside of their body – or ‘spacing out’ – but the sense of escaping from a singular skin, or at least becoming less conscious of it, does not necessarily mean the individual feels closer to another person; he may simply feel – and want to feel – a lessened sense of self. Then, of course, there are power dynamics where the division between the two may be key to their entire relationship.

But yes – I believe that the desire to lose oneself completely in another human being during sex, is, ultimately, unattainable, and there is a sense of tragedy in the longing and the impossibility.

However, if the desire to reach that moment of deindividualisation actually stems from a state of human loneliness, then it is not, in fact, a sexual issue, but simply something which people may have unwisely chosen to resolve with sex. Therefore it would be remiss of us to not consider answers outside of sex.

As many of you may know, I am a huge fan of opera, and when I am at an opera house, sitting comfortably in my seat as the lights go down and the curtain rises, one of my favourite places to look is into the orchestra pit. There is something so magical, and so beautiful about seeing twenty, thirty, forty musicians all working together, with one goal; one task. Instruments call and answer one another, and ten bows move in perfect harmony. When an orchestra is working well, there is also a sense of sacrifice: by being part of it, these musicians have given up their individual fame in order to offer something to the greater purpose, to an opera or a ballet or a concerto, whatever it may be. It would certainly be rare, but it may be possible that these are the instances which offer human beings the chance to become one with others.

However, I do not wish to put this forward based on that ‘sense of sacrifice’. I do not mean to say that human beings can only be enlightened by giving to the greater good. The impossibility of losing oneself in another during sex does not exist because sex is sinful! And orchestras are not the perfect answer to human loneliness because they are grand, and beautiful, and a symbol of high art. No. There is something selfish about sex, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. When people don’t take some responsibility for their own pleasure, it often leads to very joyless sex lives. Therefore it could be argued that being conscious of personal pleasure – or, in fact, any personal sensation – is actually very wise, and I’m not sure how sex would work if at least one partner wasn’t interested in him- or herself. However, of course, focusing on the self stands as a barrier to losing the self. If a person is interested in his own pleasure, then he cannot forget his own individual experience and existence. But when a group of people are, together, creating something, the focus is not on the individual: it is on the creation. And that could easily be conducive to defeating that sense of individualism.

Of course, it’s just a theory – and a rather convoluted one at that – but I still think it’s something worth considering. And one thing seems certain, to me: with loneliness so rife, there must be, in some part of human existence, a desire to escape the individual.

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