All art is seduction. All seduction is art. If it's any good, it's good art.
Here is some awesome art. I love the way the men act scared.
Mujra Minus Desi
I found that one entirely by accident. I wasn't even looking for erotic dance. One minute I'm watching videos of cute kittens and the next minute I'm seeing proof that strippers don't really need to strip. Then I wondered, where did this come from?
I read the tags, and I found that mujra is an erotic dance form that evolved in the Mughal empire out of Kathak, a classical Hindu narrative dance form. It is now associated mainly with Pakistan and Northern India, and the dancers are often held in low esteem, even though, apparently, they keep their clothes on. So then I had to check out the Kathak and found this next video.
Dhamar Kathak
Then, I found this beautiful and sensual video.
Kathak in Varanasi
Then I had a craving for some more of that Red Hot Mujra, and I found this next one, which may be too sexy for me. I'll have to watch it repeatedly to be sure.
Showing posts with label seduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seduction. Show all posts
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
My Muse

I've always been a creative problem solver. This is a picture of me, at an age of roughly between 2 & 1/2 to 3, creatively solving the "How do I secure my next block?" problem.
I like creativity. I like seduction. I like the strange. I like the strange seduction of creativity, and the seductive creativity strangeness can induce. Speaking of seductive strangeness, my Muse Cindy Holly (not her eternal name) is the Muse of Other and the Muse of Few Words. When I first started my Real Change Column under the title Adventures in Poetry I was only allowed 350 words each. It was feared that my strange thoughts and modes of expression, if multiplied beyond that limit, might run amok and negatively impact unsuspecting innocent readers. Lawsuits could ensue.
Now, as Adventures in Irony, I manage to get away with 666 words per column. Still not much. So I am grateful to have Cindy peering over my shoulder all the time, suggesting words to cut. "Don't write words," she says. So I say, "What should I do then?" So she says, "Write." So I say, "Oh."
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