Isn't that 50s illustration scary? Reminds me how vindicated I felt, and relieved, when I saw gnarly portraits of love and coupledom as a kid. Like in "Klute," which my mother took me to see at the drive-in when I was maybe 7. Sure it was disturbing. Inappropriate. It also strangely opened up a richer world of relating. Including erotic. Something screamingly absent from this starched illustration. But I digress.
Recently, a Scottish journalist, Teddy Jamieson, contacted me about an essay on love he was composing. It was to appear on Valentine's Day in the Glasgow Sunday Herald magazine. He said he'd been intrigued by my book, Love Junkie, and that he thought maybe I could contribute some of the darker colors to his portrait. A week later, we spoke. What he used from our conversation is in parts distorted. Yet this is what often happens when one collaborates on creative projects. It's an opportunity to let go, get Zen about the flow of ideas, imagination. The creative commons. Sampling. I think Teddy is a helluva writer. A probing interviewer. His essay on the color white which was previously published in the Sunday Herald left me breathless. I am eager to hear your thoughts on his whole vision of love as reflected in this essay. Or whatever sparks you, or makes your heart leap, or sink. Or pulse brightly in recognition. After all, Jamieson includes delectable Don Draper, the ultimate cynic of love. When I get some comments, I'll respond to the misrepresentations of my quotes, in service of maintaining clarity about my position as a love junkie -- which is neither victim, nor sex-negative. Au contraire. Enjoy! As we continue the ongoing dialogue about love, sex, romance, relationships -- what constitutes health and what toxicity, and what, perhaps, straddles those lines and vacillates betwixt and between. Happy post-V-Day! I hope it was a beautiful one for all of you. RRxo
[NOTE: In order to read the article, simply click on the page you desire and a bigger, readable size screen will pop up.]