Miniatures are fetish objects. One of the oldest fetish objects, the four inch tall Venus of Willendorf, can fit in the palm of your hand. The point is for the holder to feel the enormous contours of her body, run the pad of your thumb over her enormous breasts, then turn her over and feel her ass. Our focus and concentration both empowers the object and let's us feel the representation's power.
Worship occurs in such small, convenient moments. Making life small is power. It becomes something we conquer, but it has conquered us because we are now the servent to the object it. Owning things weighs one down. Clutter is the sign of carelessness. But treasures require a butler, a maid, an entire staff of servent a to attend.
This is also an indicator of the normal. What we make small are things in our daily lives. We do so in order to create panoramas of our experiences. Which is a ritual designed to help us make sense of our experiences.
No matter how titillating these dollhouse pieces seem to those who consider themselves vanilla and normal and inexperienced, these things are extremely normal.
Now we can afford time to ruminate. Time to play with our bondage dolls and reenact or enact our experiences and fantasies.
And who is the ultimate miniature: the miniature that becomes every fantasy to everyone? The most pliable, changeable, most charged miniature which rules out totem world: Barbie.
Everyone enjoys seeing Barbie tied up and spanked, or doing the spanking. All she has needed is her own dollhouse.
I've been extraordinarily open minded about sex ever since my first year in college, when I learned women could have orgasms. (I was a late bloomer in high school.) Nothing shocks me. All of it interests me. I can never get enough of it.
All of the pics in my blog are stolen/borrowed from other websites. I consider myself not really a thief, but a pirate. Arrrrrrr!!!
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crazy, dirty bastard.
And I thought I was fucked up.