Private Dance

       While on my way to my favorite coffee shop on Cape Cod, I heard the song “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees. Like so much of the music I love, it made me want to dance. Dancing, however, wasn’t possible. Not because I was in my car. But because I was driving. So I did the next best thing; I sang, bopped my head, swiveled my hips in the leather seat, and played air drums, air bass, and air guitar. Maybe even some air keyboards. One of my Bottom Lines is that it’s possible to get your groove thang happenin’, no matter what your circumstances.
       Anyway, the classic seventies disco anthem reminded me of an idea I’ve had for a long time, but have yet to realize. I love this idea. It’s simple yet elaborate. Silly yet beautiful. Fun yet intense.
       Many of us love to dance. Yet many are self conscious of dancing in public. Alcohol helps. But sometimes even that’s not enough. If you’re with a partner you find sexy and attractive and fun (and frankly, if you don’t find your partner at least two out of those three, do both yourselves a favor and go find one you do, because you both deserve to be with somebody you find appealing), dancing together can be an amazing mutual experience. It’s exercise. It’s playful. It's joyous. It’s sexy. It can be hours of foreplay. It’s simply too good not to enjoy with the one you love. Or even the one you like.
       I am blessed with good rhythm. And I would describe myself as.....uninhibited. If you haven’t developed a good sense of rhythm and are somewhat inhibited, well dancing in front of a bunch of people can be intimidating. And not very inviting. So as much as it may be something you want to do with your partner, doing it under those circumstances is unlikely. And I completely understand that.
       So, if you can’t bring yourself to the dancing, then bring the dancing to you.
       Create your own disco, just for you and your partner, within your own home, and dance there. If you want to make it a little more social, invite a few couples who you’re really comfortable being with over too.
       Creating your own disco is easy, but there are a few essentials that must be in place for it to succeed. And, given your motivation and the space you have to work with, you can really go to town, to varying degrees, and make this into something really special. Something the two of you will want to create regularly. Potentially an Instant Couples Ritual, or ICR, as I call them. Actually, that’s the first time I ever used the term. But I really like it. So I’m claiming it.
       The first thing you need for a great disco is great music. And “great music” is a completely relative term. You and your partner get to mutually choose what music you want to dance to together. The creation of the set list should be a fun, bonding experience. It can, however, be a source of contention if the two of you have completely incompatible tastes in music. But it’s all good. Because whether you’re both into P-Funk, or he’s a member of The Kiss Army and the most raucous music you’ve ever listened to is Debbie Gibson, it’s an opportunity to practice communication and compromise skills. It’s an opportunity to give to one another. To find out more about each other. An opportunity to work together. Relationship Building 101.
       Sit down, together, with your respective digital music devices, or album collections if your old school, and together create a list of tunes to dance to. Do it over a bottle of wine some night. Make it fun. Make it an opportunity to connect. Make it an opportunity to work things out; to love and support and respect each other. Make it a living example of the axiom “It’s no so much what you do as how you do it”.
       Now you get to create your space. You get to create your disco. This process. and the actual space you create from it, can be simple, or elaborate, or anything in between. It’s totally up to the two of you. You can do it together, or you can delegate it to one partner. Again, use it as an opportunity to work together, however that looks. You’re both building something. Build this wonderful “something” together. And notice how this process simultaneously builds the bond between you. And that’s a beautiful thing.
       No matter what space you create, there are some critical elements that must be in place, besides the mutually created music list. And I’ll delve into those critical elements in my next post.
       One of things you’re building together is anticipation and excitement. Hopefully, I’ve done my job as a writer and created some anticipation and excitement (and curiosity) in you so you’ll tune in for the next installment. Stay Alive.....

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Heart On My Wall

       Light. An amorphous phenomenon.
       We define visible light scientifically as electromagnetic radiation within a specific wavelength. As strangely poetic as that sounds, and despite that visible light largely defines our experience of life itself, that doesn’t begin to tell the whole story. Light is infinitely vaster and more mysterious.
       Some people seem to glow with a light that we don’t see as much as feel. Even when it’s completely dark, light is everywhere around us. Some people are enlightened, which means they have been able to shine light on parts of themselves that were once dark. They are then able to assist others in shining their own light into themselves.
       Light is the basis of color. And color gives life vibrance. Both literally and metaphorically. Color effects brain chemistry. I physically and mentally and emotionally get excited by bright, shiny, sparkly, colorful things. I feel it. I absolutely feel colors. Many of us do. That’s one reason I painted my house purple. And why I like to wear colorful clothing. I feel brighter and more alive when I’m wearing something colorful. Just a personal reality.
       In the fall, the landscape explodes with color as the leaves on the trees change into a firestorm. The sun shifts position in the sky, changing the lighting so that the world actually looks and feels different. In the winter, I mean in a good winter, the landscape once again changes, as snow makes the world look and feel different. In the spring and summer, reality shifts yet again, dominated by the green of trees, the blue of the ocean, and the colorful addition of flowering plants. It’s endless.
       The world, indeed our very visible reality, is the infinite canvas upon which light paints the pictures of our life. Constantly shifting, changing, moving. Even if we are standing still.
       And sometimes, light sends a specific message.
       The other day, light coming through my window, reflecting and bending, through and around who knows what, created a heart on my wall. I was talking to my sister at the time, whom I love very much. In our conversation, we were talking about people we love. Light took notice. And painted it’s picture. Or perhaps, my sister and I co-created, the heart of light with the light from our hearts. Probably both.
       The heart reminded me that light and love are the way. No matter what.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.    

Open Of Heart, Young At Heart

Open Of Heart
Young At Heart

Better for your love life than a new partner
Better for your libido than Viagra or Provestra
Better for your mood than Prozac
Better for your friends than material gifts
Better for your family than a trip to DisneyWorld
Better for your soul than religion
Better for your body than a new outfit
Better for your mind than more thinking

Open Of Heart
Young At Heart

Better for your lover
Than almost anything

                              -Clint Piatelli

©2013 Clint Piatelli. MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

A Lover's Education

       Sexual frustration became the norm for me from the age of about....six....until my mid-twenties.
       Like a lot of boys, I started pleasuring myself early. It felt good. So I did it. As a kid, that’s all the reason I needed to do something. True hedonism. Luckily, I’ve retained a healthy dose of that attitude through adulthood.     
       I developed a foot fetish around a tender age as well. And I remember getting “turned on”, if such a term is applicable to a person still writing with crayons, by seeing girls tied up. So my foray into the world of BDSM began before I could even tie a knot. On the TV show “Batman”, Batgirl was always getting bound and gagged. Man did I dig that.
       Before anybody starts shouting “kiddie porn”, I’m sharing this partly because the natural early sexualization of boys is something that our society would rather not admit. I’m loudly speaking out against the tragic shame boys are subject to for making themselves feel good. Naturally, that is biologically, through no choice of their own, boys develop a sense of pleasure from their private parts at a young age. And we get nuked for it. So before we know what’s happening, we learn that feeling good “down there” is a bad, shameful thing. It fucks us up.  
       We get that we shouldn’t touch ourselves in public. Well, most of us get that. But then it’s a complete mind fuck when we do it in the privacy of our own bedroom or bathroom, get bagged, and then get punished, ridiculed, shamed, emasculated, and a host of other fun degradations. Women travel a different road, but they don’t have it any easier.    
       As I got older, I had to unlearn what I learned. I say to myself, “Okay. Let me get this straight. It felt good. It felt natural. Damn it, I didn’t put the urge there. One day, it was just there. I learned to do it in private. And I’m still told it’s bad and I get punished for it. What the fuck?”
       I was fortunate that I had good genes. By the time I hit seventeen, I was a good looking dude with a nice body. Girls began digging me, so things got a little easier. And, from an early age, I was on a path. Insatiably curious, sensitive, introspective, intense, artistic, passionate, and creative, I was “looking at myself” and at my life before I knew what I was doing. All of this lead me to start examining my sexuality relatively young.
       I started unwinding the story of bullshit I got from my parents and from society and I started writing my own story. I didn’t know I was doing that, wasn’t totally conscious of it, until well into my twenties. I just knew that what I thought and what I felt and what I experienced went against, on an intellectual level, on an emotional level, on a gut level, and on a common sense level, what I had been told and sold.
       That didn’t mean, however, that I was getting laid. Far from it in the beginning. I wanted sex, but didn’t really know how to get it. I was with a lot of women, but I wasn’t getting my rocks off.  
       My perpetual sexual frustration, however, gave me an invaluable gift. A gift that still gives to me today and will continue to give to me until I lust no more. The gift is that I cherish and value and make the most of every romantic moment I have with a woman. Because I wanted it so bad for so long and never got it, I developed a profound appreciation for whatever I got. So if all we did was hug, then I got really into it. I hugged you really well, and I became a great hugger. If all we did was kiss, well I was totally stoked. I became a great kisser, and would kiss, and just kiss, a woman for hours. If all we did was share the bed and touch a little, I was cool with that. I learned how to really touch a woman. Because, apparently, that’s all I was gonna get. So I better love it and I better get good at it.
       Finally, when I started having sex, I applied the same attitude. Because it’s all I knew.
       I’ve talked to lots of guys about this, and it surprises them. Because for most men, standard operating procedure is that if you’re not going to have sex with me, then we’re not going to sleep in the same bed together. If we’re messing around on my couch and I try to feel you up and you reject me, then you’re out the door before my head hits the pillow. I didn’t do it that way. I loved sleeping next to a woman, no matter how far it did or didn’t go. I loved feeling her warm, soft, feminine body next to mine; spooning her, inhaling her scent, rubbing her skin, smelling her hair, squeezing her tight. I relished the feeling that tonight, we care about each other. We didn’t have to fuck for me to enjoy our time in bed together.
       That made me a better lover. Because, and here’s a love tip gentlemen: it’s all important. The hugging. The holding hands. The kissing. The cuddling. The touching. The love making. The after love making. I learned to relish it all. Kind of like a guy who grows up poor, makes a lot of dough when he’s an adult, and develops a healthy sense of value about money. I developed a sense of value about being with a woman. And I developed a sense of appreciation for women in general. They are beautiful, divine, luscious  creatures. And I treat them accordingly.
       I didn’t properly make out with a girl until I was seventeen. Second and third base eluded me until that age as well. Lost my virginity at nineteen. Didn’t start having regular sex until I was twenty-three. All the while, I’m burning up inside. So however much fire I was allowed to release, I made the most of it. I was passionate. And intense. And attentive. And really into it. And she was the only thing in the world to me for the time we were going at it, no matter what we were going at. I never took sex for granted. I was always fully invested in the passionate moment. Like a quarterback at a Super Bowl, I realized this was special. My attitude of appreciation, wonder, and excitement was omnipresent. All those years of frustration and pain and disappointment conditioned me to love every intimate moment with her. And in the back of my being, there was always the realization that I may never be back here again. So I better make it count.....
       My sexual liberation started young and continues, every day. As I learn to love and accept myself more, I more readily appreciate and embrace the vastness of myself. And part of that vastness is sexual. The more we love and accept ourselves, the more we embrace our vast and beautiful and intense sexuality, the more wide open, fun, exciting, adventurous, passionate, and satisfying our sex lives.     
       And you can take that to the fuckin’ bank.


©2013 Clint Piatelli. MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Clinterview: Man Vs. Emotion (part 5)

Men are taught that "How we feel is no big deal".

Bullshit.

 ©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.