On Sunday, I finally got around to trying this kit that allows you to turn a sex session into abstract art.
The kit is called “Love is Art,” and includes all the accoutrement for creating a canvas print of you and a friend getting down to business. Love is art! That's a really sweet sentiment. For practical reasons, my boyfriend and I started calling it the “fuck stamp kit.”
The kit included a blank canvas, a plastic sheet for laying beneath said canvas, paint (my kit came with an inky black), a loofah and two pairs of disposable mesh slippers like little hairnets for your feet.
Basically, you lay out the plastic sheet, then the canvas, squirt on some paint, and have sex on top of it all, creating an abstract design on the canvas. After it dries, you end up with a sexy-time Rorschach test for your future houseguests to comment on when they notice it hanging innocently in your dining room.
I'd been hanging on to this project for about 6 weeks, waiting for a convenient time to unleash my inner artist. I have two roommates, and needed a time where I had the apartment all to myself for a solid amount of time. Having someone walk in on you slathered in black paint in a compromising position on the floor of your communal living space would be pretty traumatizing for everyone involved, and therapy is expensive.
The kit also came with a guidebook outlining 6 different steps, starting with testing the non-toxic paint on a patch of your skin, all the way to “painting” (their quotes, not mine), cleanup and stretching the canvas over a frame once dried.
And in case you're wondering, the slippers are for traipsing to the bathroom when you're done to lather each other up while you discuss art theory.
Overall, I had a grand time with my Love is Art sex stamping kit. It was unique and exciting, but I am not sure if I would call it sexy. My manfriend and I tried our best, but we were pretty giggly the whole time.
Giggles aside, it was nice to get out of our usual sex-and-a-nap routine. We're not really the candles and rose petals type of couple -- our sex usually ends in us passing out in a bog of our own juices. “Marination,” I like to call it.
If you want to have your own sex stamping party, here are some of my notes and tips:
Pick your partner carefully. This is a deliberate sex project and at times the process was sort of awkward, so you probably want to be verrrry comfortable with who you get all slippery with.
Also, it's called the “Love is Art” kit, not the “Jimmy with Blue Jacket is Art” kit. You don't have to love your partner, but you should at least really like them. I don't mean to boss you around. It's YOUR sex life. But I am just asking you to ask yourself: Do I REALLY want a memorialized imprint of Dude from Yoga's junk to hang on my wall forever?
Clear a good three hours. Like true love, and maybe true art, this project is a major time investment. My apartment is pretty spacious and we still had to move all of the furniture out of my dining room to create a workspace. We moved the table and chairs, we set up a nice mood (more on that next), we fondled each other for a while, there was some penetration, some giggling, I burnt the soup I had simmering on the stove, and then there was the cleanup process.
We had to clean ourselves and the space we used. Start to finish, everything took about 3 hours. Luckily my roommates had traveled back to 2001 and were seeing Matchbox 20 in concert, so we had no interruptions.
Set the mood. This is actually suggested in the accompanying directional pamphlet that comes with your kit, but I am going to triple stress this. Moving furniture and spreading paint on a canvas isn't exactly my idea of steamy foreplay, so it's best to set up, do your warmups elsewhere, and then move your action on site when things are flowing nicely.
In the directions, Love is Art founder Jeremy suggested that you put on some Jeff Buckley, but that song from Shrek makes me want to cry myself to sleep, so we opted for Billie Holiday. You put on whatever makes you feel like smearing yourself in paint.
We also lit some candles, which required removing the smoke detector as it has a grudge against candles, and turned up the heat to tropical levels. My apartment is drafty and makes me crave sweatpants and my bathrobe, not a nudie paint party.
Expect it to be really messy. Yeah yeah, no shit, you're rolling around in paint. But even after you're done slopping about, the paint doesn't wash away very easy -- thus the loofah -- and it took two showers before my gray tint was gone. I then had to scrub my bathtub because the paint had temporarily stained the floor gray and I didn't want to startle my roommates when they returned from 2001.
Free a hand. I would suggest that each of you try and keep one hand paint free. This will help with the positioning of...things. I was all for covering myself in paint, but I didn't want to get paint IN me.
So when, mid party, I looked down and noticed that yes the paint was definitely going in (and out and in and out of) me, I got a little freaked and switched gears into manual so that the entire experience came to a joyous denouement all over my stomach, Jackson Pollock style.
My manfriend was pretty proud of our art project, but I was a bit underwhelmed by the outcome. That is not the fault of the kit, but more so of all of the weird flailing we appeared to be doing. I think it sort of resembles a murder scene from a black-and-white picture.
But that's love, right? Time consuming, messy, and a bit disappointing when it's over and you find yourself on your hands and knees scrubbing your bathtub on a Sunday evening asking yourself WHY you got into this in the first place.
Zoe can be found sharing her rosy outlook on love at @SexyTofuBlog.