Mathias at Zipolite

The last time I'd been in Mexico, I'd noticed a coconut seller wandering up and down the beach. He was notable for a few reasons; namely that he was young, handsome, white, and very clearly a foreigner on these Latin shores. I am possessed of near Holmes-ian powers of observation and deduction and after a four hour observation of his impressive physique, I deduced that it was unusual for a foreigner to be selling coconuts on a Mexican beach. As a budding sociologist, I thought I should continue my study of this strange behavior and in the span of three days, observed these things: All day long he wanders up and down the beach, pushing his barrel of coconuts which sell for 20 pesos (about a dollar fifty) each. Naturally, to prevent his being made uncomfortable by my scutiny, I purchase a coconut every time he comes by. Only on seven occasions have I had to chase him down the beach. As he spends the day under the tropical sun, he works up a sweat and at the each end of the beach he'll park his barrel, strip off his clothes, and dive nude into the water. Surfacing, he swims to shore and sits there, staring off to sea, naked and beautiful (while I surreptitiously take photographs), until he gets dressed again, picks up his barrel, and resumes his Sisyphean task yelling Cocos! Ricos Cocos! up and down the beach.

By the fourth day, I'd had enough of research. It was time for a more hands-on approach. I'd spent the morning of that fourth day lying on the beach sand with Ixtli, his wife, and my pretty new boyfriend, Javier, all of us uncomfortably full of coconut juice. I tried to pretend that I wasn't waiting for a chance to have a more meaningful conversation with the handsome entrepreneur but apparently, everyone on the entire beach had noticed my fascination with the coconut boy except, of course, the boy himself. Part of the problem is that his smile was so delightful I found it difficult to concentrate beyond our business dealings with coconuts.
I finally resorted to that oldest and most effective trick in the artists' manbag - I walked up to him just as he came out of the water after a cooling swim and asked him if he would model for me. Naturally, I offered to pay and it was only after his quick agreement that it occurred to me that he was probably very hungry.
He couldn't quick the coconuts just then so we waited until nearly sunset to do a photo shoot on the secluded Playa de Amor (the beach of love - clearly, something like this was destined to happen). Over a hotel dinner that evening, (and later, joints in the room while drew him) he told me a little about his East German upbringing and his travels and adventures throughout Latin America. He's seen most of the world without a penny to his name (I think it's a constant state of near-starvation that accounts for his perfectly defined and very slender body, and for the enormous quantities of food he inhaled at dinner). I learned, also, that he was looking for the Perfect Man, but had yet to find him. This came as a surprise to me because I'd assumed he was straight. While he didn't get into a lot of details about his childhood, I wondered if perhaps he'd been under-privaledged. My first clue was when we walked towards my hotel - he asked me to walk in front of him because he was afraid that if he went in first, they'd throw him out. Then, at the room, he was stunned into open-mouthed admiration of it's rich appointments. He walked around the rooms, touching furniture, tossing himself from hammock to recliner to bed and siging in exuberant luxury.
Drawing him was a pleasure - unfortunately, that was the only pleasure received from him that night. Javier, ever the attentive boyfriend, stayed by my side and kept a suspicious eye on my new friend the entire evening.
The lovely boy went back to the coconut-grove owner's porch where he sleeps for free, I lay in bed under the mosquito net with the ocean roar outside, and an insistent Javier nudging up against me, nuzzling my neck and asking in a purring Spanish if I prefer his muscles to the German boy's bones and, just then, my life was divine.

In the photo above, Mathias is modeling in the secluded Play de Amor

And above, in my hotel room in Zipolite.

EVERYONE'S INVITED!!

Jeremy, a frequent model and playmate was happily fulfilling both duties at my studio. Chris, Jeremy's boyfriend, was due to collect his boy but we'd lost track of the time and were still cavorting around in the nude when Chris arrived. Unsurprisingly, he was considerably startled to find the entire household naked and, in some cases (me), drunk. I've always felt that my friends have excellent taste (me) and so it was no surprise to find that Chris, upon recovering from his astonishment, was quick to doff his duffs and join the anti-pantie party.

Jeremy looks cute even as he falls off chairs. The rest of the photos from this session are on my website at www.felixdeon.com

Like they do on the Discovery Channel

Deunoro, Marcelito's boyfriend, came by for a photo shoot today and I asked him to pose in one of my costumes (I'm an Aztec dancer). He was willing, so using my artistic license liberally, I dressed him with revealing creativity. After all, it seemed a shame to cover up such tender bits.

Marcelito is out of town (last I heard, he'd been seen drunkenly attempting to seduce German tourists in a Mexican beach town), and my own boyfriend has been in Thialand for ages so it's just been Deunoro and myself, keeping ourselves occupied. I could do worse for company - Deunoro is a delightful person, and always happy to come to the studio, put on a skimpy outfit and dance around.

As always, there are more photos from this session on my website at www.felixdeon.com

Bryson

Like the flotsam on a beach after a hurricane, Marcelito's dating habits have occasionally produced very lovely, dazed young men washing up into my apartment.

Bryson is one of those survivors of Marcelito's attentions. A very cute boy from Reno, the two of us met him one night at Nob Hill Theatre, a strip club here in San Francisco (I'm not going to say what it was we were doing there, but I am sure your mothers wouldn't approve). Bryson danced all over the two of us and as we were leaving, like a begraggled puppy with a six-pack, he followed us out. The poor boy, having danced all night, was hungry so we took him out to eat, where he had two orders of pancakes with eggs and sausage, coffee, orange juice, and a side of hash browns. He'd eaten the whole thing in the time it took us to mince our way through our caprese salads. Of course, we brought him home. Marcelito and he were inseparable for a while, and I did some lovely drawings of them both.
Sadly, our time with him was short. I only had two photo shoots with him. In the first I dressed him in some transparent Greek things, and in the second he lies around the house, nude and smiling his beautiful smile (you can see more from both photoshoots on my website. www.felixdeon.com . Within a month of our meeting, he would move to Phoenix, and I would lose my chance to draw or photograph him again. He was a really sweet and beautiful boy, and I miss him.

Those Southern Nights

This is Josh, a beautiful boy I dated years ago. He crushed me when he moved back to the Deep South, taking his beautiful smile with him. Oh, the South... His accent was delicious.
I met Josh before I'd launched my career as an artist - we were both artists' models at local art schools, and, like all truly great love stories, we were naked when we met. I immediately employed that greatest weapon in the arsenal of any artist - I asked him to pose for me. Having seen my prodigious talent firsthand, he agreed.
Needless to say, there was very little drawing during our first session.
Photographs are a poor substitute for the real thing - Josh is sorely missed.

Bits and Knobs

I've always photographed models to use as reference in my work and it's only lately that I've thought about seeing the photos as art, complete in and of themselves. To that end, I've purchased a new camera. It's a beautiful machine, sleek, powerful, lots of buttons. ... Lots and lots of buttons. That do things. It's very complicated.
So complicated, in fact, that I've no idea what to with it and had to ask Jeremy to tutor me.
Jeremy came over to pose for my classical academy drawing, "Rebellious Jeremy" (pictured above) and after the session, gave me some tips on how to use the camera.
This is how I was tipped:
Jeremy, naked, would bark instructions from across the room as he reclined gracefully into various pieces of furniture. I'd snap a photo, Jeremy would pop up and race, bits dangling, to the camera to see what I'd done and make suggestions for improvement. Dutifully, I'd twiddle switches and turn knobs and Jeremy would sink gracefully into yet another pose, watching carefully to make sure I was following his instructions.
Anyway, here are a few of my favorites - the rest can be found on my website, www.felixdeon.com.

Photographing the Wild Gay Male in his natural habitat.

These photos are older but I wanted to show you a little bit of what I do in the studio. Marcelito had spent a couple of years in Milan and I can't tell you how happy I was when he came home - he can be a pain in the (shapely) posterior but I'd really missed him. He's been staying with me since he got back but I have no idea if he'll be here for another month, or another year. He's got a habit of vanishing and more than once, I've walked into the kitchen to find a note on the table telling me that Marcelito had found cheap tickets to *insert name of county* and he'd be back "later". But anyway, he's here now.






These were the first drawings and photos I had taken of him since his return from Milan. The drawings were all quick studies, each taking less than a half hour to draw, the exception being the one where he is running from behind, which took a little longer. Check out more on my website at www.felixdeon.com

Toga, toga, toga. And Mastadon.

It was a hot day in San Francisco so my student, Jeremy, and I really needed a cooler, breezier experience. To that end, we got nekkid and raided my costume closet. What could be cooler and breezier than transparent togas? We spent the day making art and feeling the breeze. I've always thought that painting in costume - or failing that, nude - stimulates creativity, especially when you're working with someone as cute as Jeremy, and he is nude.

Jeremy and Felix explore their options.

Sometimes, it can take a really long time to get the fit just right and often, you'll find that you need lots and lots of help.
I'd like to say things like "Getting work done now sure was a breeze" or "We stripped right down to business" but things like that are really really cheesy and I would be embarrassed.
Again, here I'd almost be tempted to say "We kept each other from falling behind on work" but I would be ashamed.
Art is Serious Business. Once you get down to it, you have to be really.... Arty .... And stuff.
Of course, snacking is a very important part of a work day. Gotta keep that ole strength up, eh boys?
Mastadon wrestling is a theme I feel is not explored often enough in the Gay Art Community.
Once snacks and mastadon wrestling are covered, it's back to Serious Artist Time.