Based in Munich, this art-director finds in her pens and brushes the best escape from her daily corporate world. Her sketches, inspired by XConfessions, are made for colouring in. Yssa wants us to lose ourselves while filling in legs, breasts and ornaments.
I recently found out I’m obsessed with the sounds of sex. Nothing turns me on like hearing the gasp of two mouths in a wet kiss, the bodies that rub one on another, the whimpers of excitement and the cries of pleasure of a climax.
Just like last night; I was trying to sleep when, thanks to the summer heat, from the open windows of a building on the other side of the street I heard a woman having an orgasm. A rather short but intense orgasm, of just a few seconds, but it struck my imagination so hard that I barely had to touch myself to come instantly.
So I thought about how great would it be to have a device capable of hearing the voices of strangers having sex. I would wear my cufflinks and make long solitary walks, listening to people of all sorts making out and tearing off their clothes; people licking every inch of their bodies, whispering obscenities in their ears, spanking; people giving and receiving orders, fucking and being fucked; married couples or one-time lovers, young men with old women, old men with young girls, gay couples, singles engaged in self-eroticism.
I would hear and imagine all of them, the whole city as an orchestra playing an ecstatic symphony, until all the voices would fade out and just a sound could be heard – that of my enjoyment.