Why I do what I do

For as long as I can remember, creating art of any kind has been been more about the process than the product. Even as a child, I didn’t draw to replicate what I was seeing, but to explore things emotionally. I was acutely aware of how what I saw affected me, and how what I was feeling affected the way I saw. For example, a donut would look very different to me depending on how hungry I was. When not hungry, I’d be more relaxed and inclined to notice and wonder about all the various ingredients, colours, shapes, textures, smells and tastes. I might even notice how the light reflects off the individual specs of sugar; the contoured edges of the glossy frosting; the spongy, rounded surface of the golden pastry…

When starving, I’d simply see a doughnut.

The Process

When I produce a visual representation of my internal chatter, I can see things more clearly. My muddled thoughts start sorting themselves into orderly queues instead of simultaneously clamouring for attention.

To put it another way: imagine hundreds of oddly shaped, different coloured Lego bricks scattered across the floor around you. Sharp little boobytraps everywhere you look! Each individual piece unidentifiable as anything other than part of the one big, insurmountable MESS. You can’t step in any direction without hurting your feet.

It is easy to become so focused on getting rid of or around “The Mess” that you fail to see The Bigger Picture. You might even find yourself paralysed (Procrastinators Unite!) stuck to the spot, awaiting rescue.

But what if you were to stop for a minute, crouch down, give each and every little brick your full attention; start sorting through them, finding connections and piecing them together…? You might see how each seemingly insignificant piece, while not of much interest or use on its own, transforms into something entirely different when it’s linked to others. Each little piece plays a vital role in constructing The Whole. By the end of the process, you’ll still have the same number of oddly shaped, different coloured bricks as you had before, but now there is cohesion and clarity, and more space in which to manoeuvre (For the techies: think defragmenting the hard drive on your computer)

To all those people thinking “But I don’t have time to sit around all day playing with my problems! Hand me a broom!”, think of all the time that you’ve already wasted trying to avoid doing emotional housekeeping.

So that’s how I’d describe the art-making process; forcing myself, despite the discomfort, to slow down and confront the chaos, start picking through the minefield in my head, treading carefully to avoid detonation! Examining and fitting together seemingly random thoughts and feelings until I find a common thread or an image starts to form. Because everything is related. No thought, however trivial, meaningless. Everything matters. The answers to most of my questions are hidden somewhere amid the jumble, so I just keep sifting and sorting my way through it, without any real sense of direction, until I have what I call an “AHA! moment”.

And then, there’s ….

The Flow!

Have you ever tried catching a feather or leaf that’s fluttering about on the breeze? The more you wave your arms or move your hand, the further away it will get. That’s what it feels like for me when inspiration is just out of reach. The AHA! moment comes when I have managed to grasp an idea. Then, the the hard part is over.

When in that creative zone, known as “the flow”, my mind becomes very still. I’m no longer chasing or running or flailing about desperately trying to make sense of things. I am completely tranquil, opening myself up, letting those fluttering objects drift down and settle upon me. I loose all sense of time and space, and switch into cruise control. Emerging from this flow state feels like waking from a dream, only I’ve brought something tangible back with me. A souvenir from my subconscious.

Externalising my thoughts and emotions in this way helps me gain better understanding of them and how they affect me, but it also makes my internal world accessible to others. Exposure to scrutiny and criticism absolutely TERRIFIES me, and makes me extremely vulnerable. So why do I do it??

Because my deep seated longing to make authentic connections only very slightly outweighs my paralysing fear of rejection.

It’s something I find difficult to write about without feeling a tad wanky, but there you have it.






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Sex therapist Padma Deva sleeps with patients: Counsellor or courtesan?

Counsellor or courtesan? The sex therapist who sleeps with her patients

When Padma Deva meets a new client for work she does so not in an office or coffee bar but in the privacy of a hotel room. The meeting typically lasts for two hours during which time the two of them are likely to undress, massage and caress one another. Sometimes they will have full sexual intercourse.
At the end of the encounter, the satisfied client will pay Padma for the service she has provided and the two will go their separate ways — until their next appointment. You may conclude that Padma works in ‘the oldest profession’ of all. But you would be wrong.

Padma is not a prostitute but a trained psychotherapist who acts as a ‘sexual surrogate’ for men suffering from a variety of sexual problems which are hampering their ability to have a normal physical relationship.


Sexual healing: Padma Deva helps men overcome their relationship fears over nine two-hour sessions for which she charges £4,000


Sexual healing: Padma Deva helps men overcome their relationship fears over nine two-hour sessions for which she charges £4,000

Her clients include lawyers and doctors as well as students and builders. Some are married, others not. But all are suffering from issues such as erectile dysfunction, premature ejaculation or crippling shyness.

Her oldest client is aged 65 while the youngest is 25 — both men consulted Padma because they were virgins and felt unable to have any sort of sex life. Padma helps them overcome their fears over nine two-hour sessions for which she charges £4,000.

Yet despite the veneer of clinical respectability, sexual surrogacy is a deeply controversial practice. Critics, perhaps understandably, dismiss it as morally reprehensible, degrading and, at the very least, of dubious therapeutic benefit. Some have even questioned its legality, although there are no laws specifically prohibiting it.

Padma was inspired by the film Sweet November and says that she saw herself in the Keanu Reeves character

Padma — a slender and strikingly attractive 31-year-old brunette — is used to hearing such accusations, which is why she has agreed to speak openly for the first time about her work in a bid to dispel some of the misunderstandings that surround it, though she would not consent to be photographed for fear of attracting unwelcome attention in public.

She argues that although we may live in a liberal age, those with sexual problems seldom have the confidence to discuss their issues openly, even with partners. That is where sexual surrogates like her come in.

Trained by the International Professional Surrogate Association, Padma says her role is to be a form of mentor, guiding people who are struggling with intimacy issues.

She and the client meet in a hotel room or rented accommodation for the sessions. Through a mixture of talking and physical exercises, she will teach them how to communicate their desires, and how to manage anxiety so they can connect intimately with a ‘normal’ partner.

Yet some critics, particularly those practising traditional psychology or psychosexual therapy, worry that sexual surrogacy is laden with potential problems of its own. Clinical psychologist Dr Michael Mantell says: ‘The services of a surrogate do not resolve underlying emotional and relationship difficulties. Surrogacy may teach about sexuality, but it does not teach about love or how to maintain a loving relationship.’

So what sort of woman volunteers to become a surrogate in the first place? Padma is a former management consultant who decided to transform her life after watching the film Sweet November, in which Keanu Reeves plays an emotionally-inert workaholic.

One in ten men suffer from erectile dysfunction
Padma had been an over-worked twenty-something, worrying about where her frenetic lifestyle might take her, but the film inspired her to seek an alternative career.

She says: ‘I saw myself in the Keanu Reeves character, then I thought, wouldn’t it be fantastic to be able to free someone? Some time later I saw an advert in a spiritual magazine for people to train as sexual surrogates, and that’s how I started out.’

Her family were initially shocked by her radical career change, though they are now supportive of her. Equally, she says that while she is currently single, previous boyfriends have been understanding about her line of work. ‘It takes confidence, intelligence and maturity in a man to be OK with what I do,’ she says.

It may all sound more than slightly suspect, but sexual surrogacy is based on clinical work carried out in the Fifties by sex researchers William H. Masters and Virginia E. Johnson, who embarked on an 11-year study involving 510 married couples, 54 single men, and three single women.

The researchers recruited 54 carefully-screened women volunteers to work as surrogate partners with the single men.

Previously, sexual problems were treated by psychotherapy or psychoanalysis, with low success rates. But Masters and Johnson developed a two-week treatment programme they claimed was 80 per cent effective. The success rate for the single men who worked with surrogates was 75 per cent.

Padma, too, claims significant results for her work. She says almost all of the clients she has seen for premature ejaculation issues have been able to improve the duration of their love-making from a typical 30-60 seconds initially, up to and beyond the male average of five to ten minutes.

Similarly, she says 90 per cent of her erectile dysfunction clients have learned how to gain an erection without relying on medication such as Viagra.‘Every client I’ve worked with has left the programme with new-found confidence,’ she says.

Alan (not his real name), a 28-year-old clerical worker, decided to see Padma because he was a virgin with no confidence around women. Alan says his life was miserable because of his lack of sexual experience, which he thinks results from shyness.

‘It also made me think of myself as worthless. I once dated and fell in love with a lovely girl who seemed to be attracted to me. I remember her waiting for me to make the first move sexually, but I didn’t have a clue what to do, so I made up some weak excuse and went home.

‘I read about the Mughal era in India, where they would send young boys to specialised prostitutes who would educate them in the art of love-making. I remember wishing something like that had been available to me.’

Alan has had three sessions with Padma so far. She has talked to him about relationships and the female anatomy, and introduced sensual touching into their meetings. ‘Usually a session will start with Padma explaining the theory behind the exercises, then we move on to the physical acts,’ he says.

‘In one session we covered the naked body, hugs and sensual touching of the back. I had a breakthrough moment during the massage exercise, when at first I went into panic mode, worried about my performance. We stopped and did some grounding breathing exercises then tried again, and I enjoyed it.’

Alan says his confidence has grown immeasurably and he is now so optimistic about the future that he has signed up to a dating website — something he would previously have been too nervous to do.

But psychologist Dr Mantell questions whether such cases wouldn’t be better treated by more conventional forms of therapy. ‘Turning to sexual surrogacy can be an emotionally messy experience. Clients become attached to their surrogates, the objects of their sexual fantasies, and this can lead to difficulties in transferring feelings to one’s spouse or partner.’

As for the impact on her own wellbeing, Padma says she has never had a negative experience with a client, and far from feeling in any way degraded by her work, she finds it emotionally fulfilling. ‘It is wonderful to witness the transformation my clients undergo, and knowing I have played a part in that is very rewarding,’ she explains.

During an initial consultation with a new client, Padma — who has bases in London and Somerset — recommends a client sees their GP to rule out physical causes for their sexual problems, such as diabetes or high blood pressure. If surrogacy is deemed appropriate, she asks clients to take a sexually transmitted disease test beforehand. Only then can then the surrogacy work begin.

To start with, both client and surrogate may remain fully clothed, focusing on exercises such as touching each other’s hands, arms, shoulders and face. As the therapy advances, the client and the surrogate may build up to removing their clothes, engaging in genital contact and, if necessary and appropriate, full sexual intercourse.

It is those final stages that many find perilously close to prostitution. But Alan is adamant that whatever name you choose to give it, his therapy has had a hugely positive impact on his life.

‘To the sceptics, I would say that it is giving me a chance to have a life I could only dream of — and what’s wrong with that?’

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2048449/Sex-therapist-Padma-Deva-sleeps-patients-Counsellor-courtesan.html#ixzz1achKwlqd

Sex therapist Padma Deva sleeps with patients: Counsellor or courtesan? | Mail Online.

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