Drowning in my earliest sexual memory.
A psycho porn trait
Artist. Blank canvas.
Writer. Empty memories.
The blanks have to be filled in.
These videos are for re-opening closed cases and re-investigating old memories. I can only do that if I acknowledge I don’t have definite answers of certain things that may have happened. Not every blank is logically explicable. What can’t be understood, for now at least, I will just have to accept.
My first memory of my sexuality was at the age of 4 in a pool with a family friend. He was 16. This is not memory about child molestation. Just in case you were wondering. But it is an important memory nonetheless. And I am very clear on how confused I am about it.
I remember being embraced and that everyone, including my parents, their friends and my brother, was looking and laughing at us. I felt so self-conscious being touched by him because I was ashamed of the thoughts I was thinking about touching him. There. But I clearly remember wanting to.
My earliest memory. My oldest memory. And it weighs heavily, because I don’t know why I thought it, and I don’t know why I remember it.
At that moment, I knew I shouldn’t be thinking what I was thinking, and that no-one must ever know what I was thinking.
On that day 28 years ago, my first dirty little secret was born. There isn’t one way to experience being 4 years old.
Only one other person knew that about me, before I made this film. Truthful art explains some of it. Glutton for shame the rest.
When I think about it now, I am so confused that I was feeling sexual shame at such a young age.
I can think of 2 possibilities that explain the thought I had.
1. Something happened before this memory. On that I see dark shadows, have suspicions but no clear memory yet. No matter how hard I try and I am very conscious of grabbing something/anything to explain everything.
Right now I am inclined to suspect the 2nd possibility which could be more troubling. Maybe I perversely sexualised myself at a young age because I view being sexual as the only component of my self worth and self identity.
Therefore who am I without shame.
Not the same.