Since the turn of the new millennia, a handful of public figures have successfully marketed their sexuality through films, television, and photography for personal gain. Learning from my contemporaries, I’ve come to realize the public eye can be used as a tool. From strategic unions to leaked sex-tapes, celebrities have proven themselves quite resourceful. I’m diving into the system head first.
By turning to the dark side, I wished to actively burn bridges to my old life and corner myself into marginality. I ought to escape Sartre’s bad faith and exert freedom as my sole purpose. I am no artist, nor no pornstar: I am free.
I wish to bring an insider’s perspective of the porn industry and beyond through an artist’s lense. In coming months, this means documenting a subjective experience and ultimately critiquing the portrayed reality. In the longer run, I wish to enlarge the scope of this artistic endeavour from the sex industry to question the nature of reality itself. My work is now tinted of existential doubt, freedom in lack of objectivity and awareness of the subjective. I wish to deconstruct reality with no intention on putting pieces back together.
I’ve spent the last few months infiltrating the gay porn scene; signing exclusively with Cockyboys has set the fox loose in the henhouse. I’m not doing anything new; merely following Warhol’s template where he would have had a blast with cyber figures. Since Warhol proved the power of value through association with disregard to content, I figured the same mechanism applied to internet personalities.
Moving forward, I hope to offer the world a taste of my liberation, free of hypocrisy. Diverging from the pop culture contemporaries’ footsteps, I acknowledge my usage of the public eye. My reality has drifted. I am a man deprived of objective morality. If others see value in my body’s image, then I will use myself without second thoughts. I’m confined, limited, to my physicality - the least I can do is exploit it into my art.
If there’s one thing artists are good at, it’s critique. I’ve been catapulted to the apex of the the black sheep - where postmodernism shines its absurdity brightest. Personas of the adult industry have been kept in a growing bubble shut out and are awaiting pop culture’s distigmatisation to burst out. Postmodernism highlights art’s existential crisis and I wish to partake in its downfall.
I’m an artist because it’s the absurdest profession there is. I derive no value from art but enjoy partaking in the embracement of the absurd.
I’m a pornstar because it’s convenient and distracting. Its consequences are fullfilling. I derive no value from porn but I enjoy partaking in its activities. I derive value from porn as a depersonalized being and through the understanding of the absurd implications of the self. I find amusement in using myself as a mean to my greater end. I find greater amusement in blatantly highlighting a system’s flaws by juicing it to its core.
Now comes the role of the recipient, for they must either accept or refuse the presented claim. I’m valueless, my worth is dictated from the outside consensus. Follow me if you believe my claim is rightful; reject me if you believe otherwise. I’ve made my bet: what’s yours?