Daddy AF is an exploration of masculinity. Of reputation. Of curating your own aura. It’s about dopamine addiction and trying to maintain your place in a society that worships youth. It’s about consent, and intent, and how to have autonomy of pleasure free from judgement. At its heart, it’s a deep dive performance art experiment that plays with form and location. It’s performed one to one in a private apartment.
ORIGINS
Last Christmas I took myself to Sitges on my very first ‘solo’ trip. Partly spawned from being recently single, partly spawned from finding myself living in Burntisland with the debilitating realisation that I could wake up on Christmas day, single and horny with the only fuckable person on Grindr being a chem-head from Cowdenbeath. So I had to get out of there.
I’d been having some real body confidence issues last year. Getting old is a proper pain in the arse; so I told myself that as a treat I’d go spend ten days in Sitges – ‘The Bear Capital’ of Europe. A place where gay men worship fat hairy blokes. It was perfect for me. I wouldn’t even need to manscape.
On Christmas day, I woke up, had breakfast and flirted with some boys at the pool. I then packed a beach towel, some wet wipes and a bottle of silicone lube, and walked to the notorious cruising forest, picking up a bottle of Macallan on the way. When I got there, I shared the whisky with a crowd of blokes, and quite quickly found my groove, having numerous interactions with beautiful mediterranean men. One by one, they passed me around like a joint at a party. I had the time of my life.
I sucked. I fucked, and I was fucked… for the first time in a very long time. I loved it so much I encouraged some role play fantasy touching on my darker past. Whisky me thought maybe I could take on this version of rape as my own? Maybe I could eventually reclaim this part of my body as something deserving of pleasure? I was so turned on being submissive. It was a part of me that I’d never accessed and I was determined to make the most of it.
Leaving the woods that night, anyone with a UV light could have turned me into a Jackson Pollock painting.
The path back to my hotel was not as exciting as the path there. I was tired, it was dark, and the stunning views of the sea were no longer present — just the loose rocks from the stoney precipice that every single guide book tells you to avoid.
It was there, full of alcohol and adrenaline that I slipped, and fell.
My heart and my head screamed…
…but miraculously I caught myself before plummeting off the cliff’s edge.
Happy Birthday Jesus.
While a distressing end to my day, as I picked shards of rock our of my knees and face, it got me seriously thinking… had my body been found like this, battered, bruised and loaded with jizz at the bottom of that cliff, who would have believed for a second this was consensual? The police would no doubt interview my friends. They’d all say I was top shagger. They’d open my phone and find clips of me exclusively breeding gym fit PhD students. My Grindr, Scruff and Christian Mingle profiles all list me as a ‘total top’. Someone would end up going to jail for this!
Daddy AF is an exploration of masculinity. Of reputation. Of curating your own aura. Of dopamine addiction and trying to maintain your place in a society that worships youth.
It’s also an immersive one to one performance with music by Portishead and audio testimonials from the queer community around consent juxtaposed with police reports from violent hate crimes in the UK.
BCW 