WHY YOU SHOULD LEARN TO EMBRACE REJECTION

I recently had a revelation about rejection while I was on the dance-floor in a random gay club in Boston. It was a Thursday evening in July and I was in the club alone. My friends were coming in from New York later that night and I had just enjoyed a dinner for one in a nearby restaurant frequented by Boston’s local gay community. After a couple of beers, a nice buzz settled over me and I was not in the mood to return to my hotel, so I did what I sometimes do when I’m feeling super confident (read tipsy) – I went out alone. Going to a gay club (or anywhere for that matter) by one’s self can be both daunting and empowering. It’s a lot easier when on holiday in a new city as you are unlikely to return anytime soon and thus need not worry about developing a reputation for being that guy who goes clubbing by himself (although there is nothing wrong with that either!).

I casually strolled past the door of the club a couple of times, conducting a ‘drive-by’ to try get a sense of what the place was like before committing to entering. ‘Just walk in and you can always walk out if you’re uncomfortable’, I said to myself, building up the confidence to actually go through with the act. Finally, I entered the unknown and was greeted by a sea of gay Bostonian boys. Another beer later and I was feeling even more confident and very pleased with myself at having the balls to go out alone. I tried to make eyes with the locals (eye contact – a dying approach to picking up in the world of gay dating apps) but received very little feedback. I began to feel a little despondent and conscious of the fact that I was dancing on my own (Robyn reference).

That’s when I realised that rejection is actually a wonderful thing.

To be honest, I hadn’t actually put myself too far out there to be rejected but I had been overlooked which at the time felt like the same thing. Nonetheless, I came to understand that rejection is actually a blessing in disguise. The way I see it is that with each rejection you’re one step closer to meeting the right person, whether that be the right person for the evening or the right person for life. It’s like a game of odds. The more chances you take, the more likely you are to win.  You’re also bettering your game-playing skills with each chance taken.  Let’s get mathematical for a minute to demonstrate my point further. Imagine that your Mr. Right is one guy in a group of 100. The chance of finding him on the first try is 1%. Those odds are pretty low but as you approach more guys and eliminate those that rejected you from the group, your chances get higher. Ultimately, you’ll find your man even if it means having to deal with 99 rejections along the way.

Now, I know that life is not a neat mathematical equation and I’ve probably over-simplified the problem but, in my experience, you do have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince (I’m still looking for mine and my lips are chapped but I’m hopeful!). The way I justify disappointment in love or picking-up in a gay club is through reframing the experience and seeing each rejection as a step closer to success. This is the same approach I try take in all areas of my life. Whether it be a career disappointment or missing out on renting what I thought was my dream apartment or waking up too late and forgetting to book tickets to see Britney Spears, I’ve noticed that something better is always just around the corner.

So instead of seeing rejection as negative or allowing your ego to sabotage the experience to reaffirm your feelings of unworthiness, change your thinking and learn to springboard off rejection, using it as a tool of empowerment. You must also never forget that in the end you want to be with someone who wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with them. If someone isn’t interested in you, there’s nothing you can do to change that so you shouldn’t exert emotion or effort trying to make them feel otherwise.

Image by Vladimir Snezhin

Now read this – 57 THINGS I’VE LEARNT ABOUT BEING GAY IN MY 20s

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WHAT I LEARNT FROM BECOMING ALMOST FAMOUS

When I was a young gay boy and I felt disconnected from my peers, bullied by older guys because of my sexuality and generally despondent with the world, I would imagine a time in the future when I would be rich and famous. I’d see myself as an Oscar-winning actor, or a billionaire entrepreneur, living in a world where people longed to be my friend. This was my coping mechanism, my way to justify the hard times.

“One day, they’ll all wish they had been nicer to me. One day, they’ll see how amazing I am and they’ll regret the way they treated me”.

I thought that I had overcome these feelings but when an incredible opportunity came my way that almost made my childhood dreams and wishes come true, I realised that inside I was still a bruised young gay boy. It made me question the motivation behind my desire to be successful in all areas of my life and led me to ask, “Are gay men so obsessed with fabulousness and perfection because of the trauma we suffered growing up?”.

Watch this video to see the full story.

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WHY I’M SCARED OF SEX

I don’t know about you, but my sexual education was a little blurry (much like the video below). It was very matter-of-fact, clinical and to be honest, terrifying. The key message was around safe sex and all the horrible things that could happen to boys and girls who didn’t follow the safe sex (or abstinence) route. This has had a lasting impact on the way that I view and enjoy sex. Watch the video below and comment to share your experiences around sexual education.

 

 

 

 

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THE WORST PERSON YOU KNOW

Growing up gay you’re sexuality is scrutinised by everyone around you. From friends, family, religious leaders, politicians, society, neighbours, teachers, random people on the street everyone seems to have an opinion about your life and they’re not afraid to share it with you. Opinions so often turn to criticism, criticism to bullying and bullying to internalised self belief. It’s hard to shield yourself from the outside voices but its the voice inside yourself that is hardest to hide from.

In this video, I share with you some of the unkind things that I say to myself on a daily basis and explain how I try to overcome them. We need to be conscious of our thoughts and learn to control them in order to prevent negative beliefs from running our lives.

 

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STOP MAKING BEING GAY ONLY ABOUT SEX

It has taken me a long time to reconcile my feelings towards sex within a culture that overemphasises its importance. Let me preface this article by saying that I love sex and I encourage everyone to have a healthy and enjoyable sex life; my argument is that we need to redefine the importance of sex in modern gay culture. On one hand, I’ve learnt from my environment that being a gay man allows you the freedom to have as much sex as you want but on the other hand, I’ve experienced first-hand how over-sexualisation within gay culture creates anxiety, self-esteem issues and complications with holding down a steady relationship.

Our gay culture is a result of our tumultuous past, a past in which gay sex was overwhelmingly associated with shame, hate and fear. Being gay was seen as a sexual perversion, not as a personal identity. The majority of closeted men had no means by which to express their identity other than through seeking sexual relations with other closeted men. As such the act of sex become intrinsically linked to one’s sexual identity. Until recent history it was unacceptable and more often, illegal, to have a relationship with someone of the same sex so the only outlet for gay men to express themselves was in the bedroom (or any other discrete place). Sex was the means by which one could act on their sexual identity and hence it became one and the same.

As laws changed and society’s acceptance of homosexuality spread, sex was brought outside of the bedroom and into the mainstream. It was used as a rebellious articulation of gay life, a big F U to all those who were already disgusted with the gay ‘lifestyle’. Gay sex even became political. The issue that we now face is that the importance of sex hasn’t evolved. Our modern gay society is at a crossroads, a tension point where we need to take a look at how sex plays into our identities and the importance we place on it within our gay culture. This is so timely as at this very moment people are waking up to the fact that the gender of the person you sleep with need not define your identity. Why then is sex still such a focal point of gay culture?

We’re fed messages of sex through gay media, social media, on posters for parties, in nightclubs and on television. We feel pressured to be having regular, hot sex with many men because as a gay man it’s apparently our privilege. Yet so many of us still feel lonely, disconnected and unable to maintain relationships. I believe that this Grindr culture, built on sexual ‘freedom’ is nothing but an outdated expression of our identity.

The purest form of our confusion around sex can be seen on social media. The most popular InstaGays are the ones who show the most skin or post pictures of themselves with their legs open, asses out, in provocative positions. We support this behaviour by showering them with likes and follows and mimic what they do in the hope that it will be reciprocated. Sex sells, and my God us gays are buying it! It becomes an endless cycle which we cannot escape and social media is making it worse. It upsets me when gay guys on Instagram who I admire for using their social influence for good post shirtless pictures with the hashtag ‘thirstythursdays’. Why does everything have to be reduced to sex? Then again, I’m a hypocrite because I do the exact same thing. The most liked picture that I’ve ever posted on Instagram is one of me shirtless in skimpy shorts. I know that these pictures are going to provoke a response and when I’m feeling in need of attention, I post them. My desire to be wanted sexually, mixed with my need for validation contributes to the cycle.

My personal behaviour and our culture’s obsession with sex has a ripple effect that runs deep – it impacts our self-esteem. In order to be having all the sex we should be having we need to look like people who other people want to have sex with. We strive to look like porn stars, muscled, young and hot and if we don’t, we feel unworthy. Personally, this is something that I’ve struggled with since my teenage years. I’ve spent years trying to unpick the stories I used to tell myself that linked my self-worth to my outward appearance and my attractiveness to other gay men. When I was younger I’d put off dating guys until I felt that my body was ‘good enough’ or I’d get drunk before having sex to mask my insecurities around being naked. I would go to big gay parties and nightclubs and feel anxious because I knew everyone there would be shirtless and that I wouldn’t feel confident enough to take my shirt off. Everywhere I looked, all I saw was sex.

I want to reiterate the point that I do love sex and one of the most fun things about being a gay man is being able to sleep with other men (you should try it…). What I do worry about though is that our approach to sex needs redefining because its importance in our culture is causing loneliness, anxiety and inner personal struggle. I for one have experienced all of these things. Emotionally, I feel that I want to settle down and be happily married yet I find myself behaving in quite the opposite way. I say that I want a boyfriend but I’ll just as readily have casual sex. I see this tension on Grindr when a young gay guy writes in his profile that he’s looking for something serious yet three minutes into the conversation he’s already sent or requested dick pics.

While I’m not advocating that we all stop having sex, I question whether or not we’ve unconsciously inherited a culture that places too much emphasis on the act of sex itself. I’m also concerned that earlier definitions of homosexuality as a mental illness and our own personal shame have caused an unnecessary and unhealthy emphasis to be placed on sex.

It’s not just the way we show ourselves that continues over-sexualisation of everything in gay culture; the way we profile gay celebrities and the way that straight people show their support for equality is rooted in sex. They’ll be topless on the cover of a gay magazine or raising money to fight homophobia in a naked calendar or dancing semi-nude with their sports team in the name of pride. We take someone who is a positive role model, strip them down and sexualise them, which only demeans their message and perpetuates the notion that in the end, it’s only about sex.

Gay Pride Parades are another example of how we overplay sex as a core tenant of our identities. Pride is no longer about protesting for equal rights with banners and chants but rather it’s about working out in the gym for 3-months prior to parade day to look sexy wearing nothing but a g-string. I’m all for homovisibility but when it comes to Pride Parades or Mardi Gras, I find it hard to identity with the majority of people who participate; my expression of my homosexuality isn’t linked to my body or to sex alone yet this is the overwhelming image portrayed during these festivities.

Ultimately the outdated belief that to be gay is just to have sex with men is the unsteady platform on which many opponents of marriage equality stand. They use the argument that gay marriage will lead to the legalisation of incest or bestiality. What they’ve not recognised is that both those things are only related to the act of sex and not to personal identity. A man who has sex with a dog is still likely to be a straight man. His sexual perversion is not a reflection of his personal identify, unless of course he identifies as a dog.

So what is the solution? I propose that we stop making being gay about sex alone and try to skew our focus towards other parts of our identities. Most of us reading this post are lucky enough to live in countries where we can express our personal identity in ways beyond sex. We must continue to celebrate our diversity, our richness of character and our multi-layered identities without reducing everything to sex.

Image by Erick Monterrosa for Homotography

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MODERN GAY TRAVEL: ISRAEL

I’ve been lucky enough to visit Israel several times, each time for a different reason. The first time I visited was in 2003 whilst on a youth program. We travelled the length and breadth of the country for three weeks, seeing every site, museum and two-star hotel that the country had to offer. The trip culminated in Eilat where I stayed on with a group of friends for a few days. It was during this time that I had my first adult gay experience. He was a soldier on leave from the army and our group had adopted him as one of our own. We all hung out together, drinking in our hotel rooms, going out for dinner, swimming in the hotel pool. One night after everyone had gone to bed, he and I decided to go for a late night dip. It was January in Israel, winter, but the pool was warm and the hotel near empty. We were messing around, as teenagers do. Just innocent, general roughhousing at first but the energy changed the more body contact we made. Sensing an opportunity, I dared him to take off his swimming costume. He said that he would if I would, so excitedly,  I did. There we were, two guys, totally naked in the middle of the Middle East, not knowing what would happen next. Running into the pool was a man-made waterfall – one of those typical water features one would find in a holiday resort built in the 90’s. I dared him to jump off it. He did. Minus a few side glances in the high school locker rooms, it was the first time that I had properly seen another guy naked in the flesh.

The temperature dropped significantly so we returned to my hotel room which I was sharing with a girl friend. I suggested that we wash the chlorine off our bodies. He jumped into the shower first and then I joined him. We washed our respective bodies and climbed into the queen size bed which was dressed with one of those thick, floral bed covers – another nostalgic feature of resorts from the ’90s. I remembered how he had mentioned the fact that he wanted to study to be a physiotherapist after completing his army service. I recommended that he begin his education by practicing on me. He did. We eventually fell asleep next to one another. My leg occasionally brushed his leg. Once or twice his arm fell onto mine as he rolled over during the night. The four hours from pool to shower to bed felt like an absolute lifetime. My heart was beating feverishly. I had never felt so conscious or aware of the immediate moment as I had during our time together. It was the most errotic experience even without any sexual contact. The next day I left Eilat. Generously he drove me to the airport where we hugged, wished each other the best and parted ways. I don’t remember his name.

My second visit to Israel was the following December and it was far less eventful. I was still deeply in the closet and I was travelling with my family – a combination that very much limits one’s gay escapades. Most of the time was spent touring the country and visiting sites I had seen less than 12-months prior, only this time I was lucky enough to be upgraded from a two-star experience to a five-star experience. Bless my dear mother, she can hardly be described as pretentious, that is until it comes to hotels.

It was just before New Years 2004 as our tour guide pulled up to a hotel in Jerusalem that was far below par according to Mrs van Sant’s strict hotel criteria. Location – poor. Facilities – outdated. Decor – in desperate need of a makeover. Service – non existent. Rooms – dirty. Not wanting to add to the existing tension in the Middle East, my father knew that he had to act fast in order to avert an international incident. We checked-out before we even had a chance to check-in and were swiftly moved to the David Citadel.  Now this hotel was much more to mother’s liking. Facilities – modern. Decor – divine. Service – exceptional. Rooms – modern and spacious. I can’t recall much of the rest of the trip but I do remember that I was sporting some sort of a mullet which apparently at the time was the height of fashion.

My next trip to Israel was four years later whilst I was living in Milan. By now I was becoming a fully fledged homosexual. Living in my own apartment in Milan, completely unknown in the gay community and not tied down by expectations or reputation meant that for the first time in my life I felt free to see and do everything that gay life had to offer. I took with me to Israel this excitement when in May 2008 I visited a friend who was studying at Tel Aviv University. He was living in a very cool, up-and-coming hipster area called Florentin. I recall that the apartment buildings were run down and didn’t have front doors meaning that visitors could come and go as they pleased. What they lacked in security they made up in charm, particularly because each building had a communal rooftop which were used by the locals for day drinking, laundry, dinner parties and general socialising. I visited quite a few cafes and bars that were beginning to open in the area but what I really wanted to do was explore the gay side of Tel Aviv. Unfortunately my straight friend, who perhaps was not 100% sure of his own sexuality at the time, was not very supportive of my endeavours. One evening, after passing a gay bar that I had read about during my extensive research online, I suggested that we pop-in for one drink.  He was not interested and suggested that I go inside alone while he waited outside. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to see at least one gay bar in Tel Aviv, I entered alone. It’s not much fun being inside a bar and knowing someone is outside waiting for you. Remember when you were a kid and your mum used to come pick you up from your friend’s house but you weren’t ready to leave? It was reminiscent of that.

Flash forward to eight years later and I was back in Tel Aviv to meet my boyfriend who had already been in the city for a week to perform in a musical. We had had a fight just before he left and the relationship had moved into very rocky territory but I needed a holiday after a manic week working in Paris so decided to go ahead with our holiday which we had been planning for months. Our first few hours together were extremely uncomfortable however after copious amounts of alcohol we managed to settle into each other’s flow. The next day we broke up.

Although I wouldn’t recommend it, we managed to spend the next week together on holiday as ex-boyfriends, enjoying the food and nightlife for which Tel Aviv is famous. We stayed at Brown Beach House which was perfectly located between the bustling Allenby Street and Tel Aviv beach. We ate at Port Said, an incredibly cool and simple dining experience from famous Israeli chef Eyal Shani that is busy every night of the week. We visited the Dead Sea and Jerusalem and spent our last day relaxing on day beds, sipping mojitos in the sun at the ridiculously expensive but very European private beach club, Gazebbo. Our nights were filled with drinking at the now permanently closed gay Tel Aviv institution Evita Bar and Shpagat – a bar and meeting point where gay and straight locals gather before heading out to wilder places. Even though our nights always ended together, in the same bed, my ex and I managed to keep our hands to ourselves. Except for one night. Sun, drinks and the energy of Tel Aviv will have that effect on you.

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I’ve now recently returned from my fifth trip to Israel. I was with my family again only this time I was with them in Israel as an out and proud gay man. On this occasion we stayed at a newly opened boutique hotel called Shenkin Hotel which was absolutely charming. Tel Aviv has come a long way in terms of hotels since my first visit in 2003. With tourism taking off and capital flowing into the city, there has been a surge in world-class hotels. Shenkin Hotel was not only modern and well situated behind the boutique shopping street from which it takes its name, but the staff were friendly and invaluable to have to hand when in need of restaurant and bar recommendations. On Tuesday evening the fabulous Israeli guy behind the reception desk (who was sporting beautifully manicured, black polished nails) suggested that I go to VRS at Pasaz. Accompanying me was my sister and her fiance. The party was wild, the boys were gorgeous and the music was the perfect blend of electro-pop, deep house and techno. Tel Aviv is one of those few cities in the world where people still smoke inside clubs and bars. This isn’t to everyone’s liking, particularly my very health conscious sister who had to leave after one-drink due to being overcome by smoke inhalation. Luckily, just before I was about to accompany her and her fiance back to our hotel, a friendly Israeli guy offered to look after me should I decide to stay for one more drink. Not ready to go home, I took him up on his offer and ended up staying at the club with him until closing. In fact, he looked after me so well that he even offered me a bed to rest my weary dancing feet.

The rest of the week was spent sun soaking on the beach and exploring Tel Aviv’s incredible food scene which included breakfast at Benedict, messy Middle Eastern fare at Miznon, two visits to Port Said and a long dinner with many delicious and inventive plates at Ha’Basta. I went back to Shpagat, which I’ve decided is my favourite gay place in Tel Aviv for pre-party drinks and was taken by a local friend to speakeasy bar, Cookies Cream where they played the funkiest disco music this side of 1973. To cap off my best trip to Israel to date, I spent the last four days of my holiday at the Ritz Carlton in Herzliyah which is at the height of luxury and a great place to escape from the craziness of Tel Aviv.

My next trip to Israel will hopefully be for Tel Aviv’s world famous pride in June 2018. While I’ve never been before, I’ve heard from friends that this truly is the best gay pride in the world not only because of the gorgeous men that descend on the city and the wild parties that line the beaches but because of the inclusivity and openness that Tel Aviv residents show towards their LGBTIQ+ visitors – something rather unique for the Middle East.

To come with me on all my travels and adventures, follow me on Instagram and Snapchat @joshvansant.

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FRIDAY MUSIC FIX: BOYS BY CHARLI XCX

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Ok it’s not Friday but I couldn’t wait three days to post this absolute pop cracker by the very talent Charli XCX. I literally eargasamed the first time I heard this song on the 9:15pm train from London Liverpool Street to Hackney. Sure, call me super gay for loving a song called ‘Boys’ but can you blame me? There’s nothing missing from this song and its accompanying video clip; there’s a selection of boys that you’ve secretly (or not so secretly) wanted to sex and or pash behind the bleachers, there’s a video game sample, there’s a catchy hook, boppy-electronic-summer-fun sound and there’s The Fat Jewish. Not to mention the lyrics – ‘I was busy thinking about boys’ – there has never before been a line in a song that better summarises the reason why 90% of the things on my to do list never get did.

The video was directed by Charli herself (real name Charlotte Emma Aitchison) and features a shirtless Cameron Dallas, a very wet Tom Daley, a hungry Joe Jonas and many other familiar faces including Flume, Wiz Khalifa, Tinie Tempah, Amine, Barns Courtney, Brendon Urie (Panic! At The Disco), Buddy, Carl Barat (The Libertines), Caspar Lee, Charlie Puth, Chromeo, Cobra Snake, Connor Franta, Dan Smith (Bastille), Denzel Curry, Diplo, Dram, Fai Khandra, A G Cook, Frank Carter,  G Eazy, Jack Antonoff (Bleachers), Jack Guinness, Jay Park, Jay Prince,  Joey Bada$$, Kaytranada, Khalid, Liam Fray (Courteners), Mac DeMarco, Mark Ronson, Max Hershenow, Mic Lowry, MNEK, Oli Sykes (Bring Me The Horizon), One OK Rock, Poet, Portugal – The Man, Prince & Jacob, Riz Ahmed, Sage The Gemini, Shamari Maurice, Shaun Ross, Shokichi, Spector, Stormzy, They, Hurts, Laurie Vincent (Slaves), The Vamps (James McVey and Tristan Evans), THEY, Tom Grennan, Tommy Cash, Ty Dolla $ign, Vance Joy, Vampire Weekend and Will.i.am…..to name a few….

Enough words, just listen. But stay away from Tom Daley and Cameron Dallas cause I saw them first.

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21 THINGS I WISH SOMEONE TOLD ME WHILE I WAS IN THE CLOSET

gay blog gay lifestyle gay bloggerThe closet is a very scary and lonely place for gay people. At a time when you need help the most, you are too afraid to reach out, for reaching out means admitting something that feels so shameful. Opening up to another person also places you in a terrifyingly vulnerable position. How will they react? What will they say?  Who will they tell?

For anyone still in the closet or for anyone who may want to support someone who has not yet come out, here is the list of 21 things that I wish someone had said to me while I was in the closet:

  1. You are loved
  2. There is nothing wrong with you
  3. You are normal
  4. This is not a phase
  5. This is not a punishment
  6. Your true friends will stay by your side and those that don’t were never your true friends
  7. Your family will love you no less
  8. Those who hate you are ignorant and scared
  9. There will come a time when your sexuality will not be your most defining characteristic
  10. You are destined for great things
  11. You will fall in love
  12. You’ll discover that the guy who bullied you was dealing with his own demons
  13. You are created in the image of God. God doesn’t make mistakes. God is perfect, therefore you are perfect
  14. You cannot pretend to be someone who you’re not – it’s exhausting
  15. You don’t have to conform to a stereotype
  16. You will find amazing inclusive communities where your sexuality is of little consequence
  17. You don’t have to be lonely
  18. You don’t have to be scared
  19. Everything is going to be ok
  20. A burden will be lifted off your shoulders once you accept yourself
  21. You will never regret coming out of the closet

Anything else you wish someone had said to you while in the closet? Leave it in the comments.

Image Credit: Exterface

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MODERN GAY STYLE: PORTIS WASP

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It’s not hard to find pictures on Instagram of half naked hotties from around the world. Instagram seem to have become the go-to place for gay guys trying to make it as an ‘influencer’. I’m not quite sure why so many gay guys feel it’s necessary to up their following by posting images of themselves in positions that are boarderline pornogrpahic but there does seem to be a precedent that has been set as to what attracts the most likes. Perhaps it’s done in the hope of receiving free undies or a small percentage of sales from the use of a personalised discount code on a website that most people will probably only visit once? Perhaps it’s done for validation? What I do understand though is that posting scantily pictures of oneself can be a lucrative business for an elite few. For most of us however, all we can really hope for is our 3-seconds of Insta-fame as a featured post on one of the many ‘Hot Guys of Instagram’ accounts. All those thirsty pictures end up blending into one another and it’s hard to tell apart one bulge from another. That’s why it’s so refreshing to find an account like Portis Wasp, where one can receive their daily hit of hot dude and art simultaneously.

Portis Wasp is a Scottish artist and writer who takes sexy fashion images and overlays them with poppy illustrations, usually with a Disney theme. The result is a collage that is equal parts sexy, arty and witty. Wasp uses his Instagram stories to showcase his ‘Moodboards’ – a mix of anime, violence, pop culture references, porn and fashion imagery. His images of male models beautifully blends the most alluring facets of homosexuality, sex, lust, campness, beauty and youth while his collages of celebrities both male and female show familiar faces in a truly unique way.

In a time when images of one’s sexuality have become homogenised, it’s nice to know that there’s someone out there with a different perspective who is reinventing the way we portray images of hot dudes.

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All images by Portis Wasp

 

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FRIDAY MUSIC FIX: ROBYN

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Three seconds into Robyn’s ‘Hang With Me’ and I’m hooked. The electronic beat grabs me by the ears and forces me into alt-pop heaven. 10 seconds later and the distinctive Swedish vocals kick in. I’m melting into a kaleidoscope of juicy sounds that permeate throughout my body, causing the hairs on my arm to stand up. It’s like sucking on the teet of the universe and all I want to do is drink more. I want, nay, I need to dance to this song forever; carelessly throw my arms into the air, close my eyes and let Robyn envelop me. Not many songs have such a visceral effect on my insides but this song is different. It’s a perfectly formed pop-song that takes me on a journey. I’m in a field in Sweden, I’m on a dancefloor in San Francisco, I’m 16 years-old and in my bedroom, I’m having sex with a gorgeous stranger. 3 minutes in and I’m having a full blown ear-ection. Finish me off Robyn. And she does. And the song ends and 3 minutes and 34 seconds later, I’m spent.

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Painting by Kris Knight 

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