By PROUD & Kinky Staff

What message do you hope your work sends to other queer kinky people, especially those just starting to explore?

My work is ultimately a love letter to queer kinky people, especially those just starting to explore. I want it to say: you are not alone. There’s power and beauty in discovering your desires, even if the world tries to shame them. I hope my art gives permission to feel, to want, and to play without apology. Exploring kink is an act of self-knowledge, and for queer people, it’s also an act of reclaiming autonomy in a world that often tries to define us before we can define ourselves. If someone sees my work and feels seen or less afraid to be curious, then I know I’m doing something right.

Photo of Jonny by Ivan

Who or what inspires you artistically or erotically within kink culture?

Artistically and erotically, I’m inspired by Tom of Finland. His work celebrated queer sexuality unapologetically and without censorship, during a time when that visibility was radical. There’s strength, camp, and confidence in his figures that made queerness feel powerful and joyful. That spirit of fearlessness influences how I show up in my own art and performance.

What does being part of a queer kinky creative community mean to you?

Being part of a queer kinky creative community means everything to me. It’s more than just shared interests—it’s shared healing, shared rebellion, and shared joy. This community gives space for the complexity of who we are. We hold each other in our softness and our wildness. It’s a place where we can be whole; where queerness, kink, and creativity aren’t separated but celebrated as parts of one beautiful truth.

What myths or misunderstandings about kink do you hope your work helps dismantle?

One myth I’m passionate about dismantling is the belief that kink and sex work are inherently unhealthy or rooted in trauma. Another is the harmful stereotype that all sex workers are drug addicts or victims. My work challenges that by showing kink and sex work as tools of empowerment and self-determination. For many, including myself, sex work has been a way to survive, thrive, and even fund creative and personal goals. It’s labor, it’s valid, and it deserves respect.

What reactions have you received (positive or negative) when your work openly explores kink or queerness?

When I’ve shared work that explores kink and queerness openly, I’ve received a mix of reactions. Social media can be a place of incredible affirmation. I’ve had people message me to say they feel seen, inspired, or more confident in their bodies and desires. That means the world to me. But there’s also the dark side: anonymous hate, trolling, or people projecting their shame onto you. I’ve come to understand that cruelty often reflects people’s discomfort with themselves, not with me. That doesn’t make it hurt less, but it makes it easier to release. For every negative comment, there are people quietly watching and growing, people who maybe needed to see exactly what I’m doing to take the next step in their own journey.

This article was originally published in issue 7 of PROUD & Kinky Magazine. You may read it in its original format here.

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