I once met this woman at a club who told me that she had lived 37 different lives. She was very drunk at the time and I suspect that this was a slight exaggeration. But there are days when I know exactly what she is talking about. I used to have a fascination with the word juxtaposition. The standard dictionary definition for juxtaposition is; "to place two objects side by side or in close proximity". In everyday use the word infers that the two concepts or objects contrast in some way. Recently I had a weekend that turned into two days of juxtaposition. Here is the highlights reel.
My weekend started with a three hour theology workshop. It was part of a course I had signed up for. At the time I enrolled it seemed like a fantastic idea. Two workshops and three pieces of assessment into the year-long odyssey I was starting to wonder what the hell had I been thinking. As I prepared I organised other equipment I was going to need for the rest of the weekend. It was a strange assortment; notes, pens, a bible, paper, shoes (the sexy type), two corsets, sexy underwear, the toy chest including an assortment of Jake's favourites and some Shibari rope. Most people would have been happy with one workshop per day. I had come across a second one that was enabling me to take in another interest and as luck would have it they were on the same day. Being the over achiever I was I had planned a little surprise for Jake as well because, well life without variety is boring.
The morning workshop was uneventful. The part of me that wears a twin set and pearls had a great time. I flexed my mental muscle a little, I learned some things that made sense and talked to other people in the same professional area as me. It was all very professionally enriching. I didn't hang around afterwards to chat too much. I was already focussed on my trip to the flipside that I had planned. I waited on the footpath in the sunshine for Jake who was coming to collect me. While I waited I messaged my friend. The wheels of my plan were turning, things were clicking into place. There was juxtaposition. When he arrived I got out the address for our afternoon workshop "Peer Rope".
I have been interested in rope bondage for a while. Like a lot of things I had to let the idea grow on me slowly. Even though I had seen images and admired them it wasn't a burning passion. Plus moving into something like that was moving more into the BDSM scene, something that scared the hell out of me. An online friend had messaged me the details of Peer Rope, a local workshop for people interested in rope bondage. It turned out to be the nudge I needed to get off my ass and do something rather than just talking about it.
After Jake picked me up I directed him to where we needed to go. We travelled through the city centre, and into the trendy café strip that was the 'alternate' place to hang out. On the other side we found warehouses and light industrial stores. There were less people here and the cafés were closed on the weekend. After a short search we found the place we were looking for. Nervously we stepped through the door way into an open space with a room at the end. There was a small group of people gathered around. I had no idea what to expect. At the back of my mind there was a nagging worry about finding a group of hard core bondage fanatics and not being accepted because we weren't fully committed to the lifestyle.
Of course our fears were unfounded. The organiser was welcoming and friendly. People spoke to us and were helpful with information. Those of us who were new to things were taken aside to go through some beginner knowledge about safety and equipment before we were shown some basic knots and ties. There were some hard core fanatics in the group but they were friendly fanatics. They didn't mind that we didn't know what we were talking about and they welcomed us into their community. Some of them relished the chance to share their passion with some new people. Everyone was friendly and welcoming and ready to give advice and information. We were invited to watch some of the more advanced participants take the opportunity to practise and demonstrate their skills.
The organiser, Red Bear set himself up in a space to create a scene with a girl we didn't know. I watched, fascinated as he slowly prepared himself and his 'bunny'. Earlier he had described his passion for this art form. He had explained the differences in the types of rope and described the sensual nature of the smell and feel of good rope. He seated himself on the ground and placed the woman he was tying in front of him with her legs crossed. The tying was slow and sensual. She closed her eyes as he bound her limbs closed and tied tightly to her body. He drew the rope past her face allowing her to feel and smell it before he used it to tie her into a folded shape. The scene played out in silence with few words exchanged between the two people participating. The onlookers spoke to each other in whispers so as not to disturb the silent interaction unfolding in front of us.
I was hooked. I wanted to be that woman, held in those arms and pressed against that body as he tied her skilfully, I wanted to feel what it is like to be bound like that, pushed into a shape that wasn't completely unnatural but not one the body fell into readily. I wondered what it would feel like to be part of a living piece of art, created by a person whose body pressed against you as they worked. It seemed like the most sensual thing I had ever seen.