An artist will uncover parts of us we didn’t know we were hiding.
They’ll trace the delicate angles of our backs, necks, collarbones, faces and hips with their paintbrush fingers. They’ll draw our curves and our shadows in wonder and silent appreciation. They’ll want to photograph us, to remember how the light hits our face, how our hands are so delicate and determined, how our lips curve slowly into a smile.
Let our abstract, living and breathing self be the inspiration and fuel of an artist. Be their muse, play their parts and enjoy the potency of making dreams realities. Fulfill fantasies in their dim-lit studios, be raw, real and exposed.
Make love to an artist with an extraordinary way of seeing the world.
Everything is art, everything is exploded expression, everything is perfect in its imperfection!
Make love to a poet.
They will demand to write us into immortality.
They will drink us in with their eyes, ears and mouths and will pour it all back onto their pages.
They will spend all night searching for the right words to capture our chemistry. They will create the love stories and verses that will one day bring life back and offer hope to complete strangers.
They will demand that we be remembered and recorded.
Make love to a poet who whispers admiration and affirmation, driving us deeper into the intensity of every moment. Make love to a poet who’s in love with their words. They will use them to tell our stories—the way they were meant to be told.
Make love to a poet who has silent proses perched on their well-versed lips. Make love to a poet who is not ashamed or afraid to express themselves, who allows words to fall freely, marking our bittersweet memories.
Make love to a musician.
Their songs are ceremony.
They will strum and move us like their beloved instruments. They will make music flow from us like a steadfast river. They will know how to play and tune us, note for note.
They will sing songs in gratitude of the medicine we gift their spirits. Make love to a musician.
Listen to ourselves cry out and sing, in pleasure and longing.
Allow the deep moaning ache of desire to come to life and to transform the space all around us. Make love to a musician who has rhythm rooted down deep, making their fingers tap and heads twitch with the sound of every sip of satisfaction.
Make love to a musician who hears music in every moment and who’s destined to bring it back to life.
They’ll know how to move us.
They will listen to and speak our body’s language, knowing when to let go or to pull in closer. They will hold us strong and steady and make us forget that anything outside of our union exists.
They will remember the complexities of every part of our bodies, beckoning the little hairs on our bodies to to stand up tall and for sweat to drip from our pores, making our dance that much smoother.
Make love to a dancer.
They will be fast and hard and slow and soft when the moment calls for it. They will tell stories with their movements and they will coax us back to life.
Make love to a dancer who knows how to utilize every part out of beautiful bodies and who touches us in places too long forgotten.
Make love to an artist.
To one who sees us for how glorious we are.
To one who knows our connections are sacred. To one who is food for forgotten souls. To one who exudes inspiration and who knows the meaning of depth and dimension. To one who has studied beauty and sees and feels it everywhere.
Make love to an artist who has learned to truly free their imagination. Who takes from the fruits of the earth, our existential complexity, our great mystery and then gives it all back to our bodies and souls with purpose.
Make love to an artist who has dreams and fantasies beyond borders and binaries.
Make love to an artist who knows that, to make true love, is an act of giving medicine to a sick world.
Make love with one who understands the need to create, resist and let go. Be remembered and recorded–entrance and dance, live on.
Make music, make movements, make poetry, make art, but most importantly, make love.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Author: Emilee Gilpin
Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock