Endorphins and Oxytocin (A History of Love)

Jodi Sharp

2012

Performance Photographs, Publication 

Endorphins and Oxytocin is a publication and a performance project by artist Jodi Sharp. The publication consists of poetry, writings, as well as a three month performance and documentation of the artist wearing a weaving that represents all of her old lovers. 

For a history of the costume for this project, please go here.

In this project the artist questions what love is, how we are capable of it, and how it is possible that we can feel the same feelings for different people again and again.

Attached are a select few images and writings from the publication. 

LOVE- the human body's reaction to certain endorphins which release oxytocin in the brain, with the evolutionary intention of making pair bonding feel good. (The Third Canadian Edition of Psychology) 

LOVE- The combining of three vital human emotions within a relationship. Passion (sexual desire), intimacy ( honesty and understanding), and commitment (devotion and sacrifice) (Triarchic theory by Zick Rubin)

FOUR FACTORS OF LOVING- Close proximity, similarities, physical attractiveness, reciprocity. (The Third Canadian Edition of Psychology) 

POETRY- A metaphorical series of lines that convey an incident or thoughts through the expression of feeling, not fact. (Percy Bysshe Shelley)

REASONS FOR PUTTING PREVIOUS PERSONAL WRITINGS INTO A BOOK- Putting love into perspective because it's the same every time. It's the same every time. And "because all that fucking without good art is just plain dreary." -The L Word

GRAHAM- March 8, 2007

I just grew old with you

You told me you were trying not to like me

but to me it was no surprise

i had felt you try from the moment you first said my name

when you walked out of that room

when you looked at me with eyes that made me never want to leave you again

and everything stopped

everything changed

and you told me i was beautiful

(you are a fool to consider me beautiful)

and you smiled like something that had just been born

and i told you i felt the same

(sometimes i feel you punish yourself;

hoping to avoid karmic retribution

for all of our happiness)

i sat with you in the dark

we watched the stars on my ceiling

and shared souls

and i told you i was crazy about you

what i didn't say was that if the whole world collapsed into a moment,

content to be what it was and never more,

that moment would be when you kissed me

(if i had put it in brackets it would be less cheesy)

And you told me you weren't worried

that you just knew it would be

(i have never trusted anyone this much)

Yesterday i woke up.

yesterday i knew i would die young.

and i could feel you there

heat on my pillow

through my phone

and i realized it didn't matter

(the whole universe had existed for this)

i screamed out loud

and i smiled into the air

and my bike tire exploded

(it didn't even matter)

that free falling feeling

was karma letting go

(all this foolish beauty has no desire to go home)

I know that's cheesy.

CHRISTOPHER- March 20, 2007 

Every night at 

11:09 

i walk down a street 

an ugly street 

with an ugly Tim Hortons, and 

every night 

at 11:09 

it's like Gone with the Wind 

(you know that famous scene) 

where they kiss 

(but they kiss without moving at all) 

i always thought that people didn't 

actually kiss like that 

but these two 

with skin like paper 

(looks like it's going to flake off) 

hardened by time 

by the wind on cold streets at night 

at 11:09 

sit in an ugly Tim Hortons 

on that ugly street 

and kiss 

(it's the most beautiful thing i've ever seen) 

without moving 

without breathing 

focused on that connection 

doesn't matter that they haven't eaten yet today 

(i have never loved anything that much.) 

the other day 

i brought coffee down to my resident street person 

(53, Jason, likes his coffee black) 

we smoked a little 

talked a lot 

he told me about his cat 

who died 

(Buffy, because she was buff) 

he had her for twenty years 

he loved her more than anything ever 

(anything EVER) 

even his girlfriend 

who was a prostitute 

and needed love more than anything 

he told me that when his cat died 

he went crazy 

wandered the streets 

lost his job 

apartment 

girlfriend 

son 

(i have never loved anything that much.) 

Sometimes i sit in my apartment 

i drink my coffee 

i sit on my windowsill 

i try and fall in love. 

(it's always been over) 

i've decided that i suck.

AARON- June 19, 2009

Because i get crushes on botanists. (plants are sexy)

Okay, here it goes. 

Trying to write a poem about

someone... new?

You know how it feels

That anticipation

when you start that first line

and you're not quite sure 

what to say

because you don't even know them

quite yet.

You just feel queasy

and kind of excited

and out of breath

every time they stand close.

Aren't your crushes just like that?

And sometimes you find yourself thinking

that if only

you could stick your hand inside their chest

to figure out their heart

and how it beats

maybe hold it in your hand, Then

you could stop blushing

and blubbering

like an idiot.

Already i've crossed out so many words

trying to fit you inside 

the lines of my paper.

(You licked my ear

and i kissed your eyelids

we didn't make love

but it was more lovely than.)

i haven't written poetry in a while. Can

you tell?

Scattered. 

Flustered.

You make me want to say

so many things i've 

never had a name for.

Take me to Africa. Take

me to South 

America.

Take

me away.

i can never make it sound as 

romantic

as it is in my head.

(You make me wish so many things.)

i wish i didn't use the word i so much.

i wish

i 

rock climbed.

i wish i knew how to 

sail. i wish i spoke Swedish.

i wish i could name all the plants in my backyard.

i wish i lived by the ocean. Would 

i give up (or gain) all these things just for 

you to kiss me?

Again.

Scattered.

Rambling.

How can something as simple as a smile 

turn me into such a

complete and total 

idiot?

i wish you would tell me you liked me in Swedish

SEAN-July 4 2006

i have felt jealousy before
for another human being
the need to be wanted
felt, distinctly
in the ends of my fingertips
and the bridge of my nose

i remember once
when we cuddled in the night
after hours of drinking
making us brave enough
to touch.
i felt something then
special
maybe just the heat
from the water flowing
under your skin

i remember thinking,
distinctly,
i should have this, you.

how painful it is, to watch you
with another human being
who's not me
who's not real
who doesn't know
that you love quotes for their history
and biking for the escape

i felt something there
when we talked about things
as if you, i, we actually mattered
i felt a loss in you
and it was me who filled that space
but instead of telling you,
touching you,
kissing you until i couldn't breathe,
i went back home
to my dead end life
to my boyfriend i would eventually leave

and the spirits that i felt
filling me when i was with you
died as if i'd suddenly become
an adult.

JOSHUA- June 14, 2006

15 minutes with only your name down

i once saw a man

painted in watercolors

of orange, purple and blue.

he reminded me of you.

not in looks but in brilliance

his colors were like a blanket i have

made up of squares of greens

pinks and blacks.

i would bring that blanket with me

if i were to come to you

we would sit on it

you would tell me special things

things you have learned,

felt, touched

like you've touched my soul

across a blue ocean.

you would hold your guitar

like i would hold your hand

and we would play

with our thoughts and feelings

until we were exhausted in our shells

but not in our souls

because we are strong, alive,

anticipating.

getting to know the person

behind walls of white and gold sand

that fall away to the touch

never complete

never wishing to be

have i never told you how incredible you are?

i have tried

you amuse me 

you are my muse.

i awaken

you laugh because it all seemed so simple

it seemed so at the time

somedays inside my neck

i have walls made of concrete 

which i adorn with that portrait of you

to remind me

all is never lost.

somedays i speak out loud

though tomorrow i may regret it.

today seems to be one of those days.

 ZOEY / EILANA- November 8, 2009

Today I stuck toilet paper in my nose, blocking out the noise, wishing it were not so that the world kept going round and round.
When I drank my latte the world paused for just a moment.
And a guy stared at me through his kid at a table, and my coffee sank its teeth into my lungs.
I thought of you and I thought of him and I wondered if you were still you and him.
It's a shame that we forget how to love.

And it's not that we forget, you said, it's that all of our dinner plates place vows between our faces, and all our children scream at the same time, and when it just comes down to it,

I look at your face and I see my own

and I get confused because I thought that you were there for me.

(When I get stuck with the task of finding a table in this restaurant I should be thinking about the starving children in Africa,

but I'm not, I'm thinking about you.)

You're there and I ignore you and I hurt you and you yell 

and all the metaphorical books in my bath fall off all their metaphorical bookshelves and I become incompetent and stupid because I just love you. 

Why, why must love be this way. I know that it changes, and I know that it gets better, 

but what if it doesn't and it just falls apart.

I asked if they loved, they'll both work it out, and she looked at me with an expression that was more real than one single notion I had about love.

Once together you made a holy child that you crafted out of flour and water and some organic vegetables And I've never seen a partnership care for a kid in the equal way you do, and every time I watch you, I'm inspired to see how things can work because you both make the effort. And now your child is old enough to laugh but he won't, and he's old enough to understand but he can't, because the people in the world are sad and we don't know why and that's nothing to laugh about. And what's the point of living if we can't find each other through all the mess. And what's the point of breathing if you can't kiss someone else between each one.

I just want you both to be happy.

 LANE- Feb 15, 2005

Three hours left of this murderous traffic squealing through my head without even the use of signal lights:

readily available
I stick out my tongue
lick soft snow
off your demented face
you see
the creature
I've turned out to be
not taking this kindly

I guess we'll talk later

hold me
just my hands
then I won't be able
to feel your
heart
beating wildly
within my own chest

kill the sensation
of you
inside
you rip me open
i hold me closed
i lick your face
you hold my heart

kiss me
a little later

i don't really like you
at all

right now

JORDAN- July 11, 2007

i have kept a mousetrap on my saddle

for people like you

people I've caught and held in places

i shouldn't

once we sat under a crack of lightning

that showered in angry green sparks

once we drank on a golf course at twilight

and once

you told me something real

if only for a moment, 

and by accident.

How is it that we end up this way?

Perfectly unperfect people

who shove cucumbers down each others shirts

and suck on each others eyeballs

just to see how it feels.

Who try sadomasochism, just once

just in case

it makes us feel alive. 

How is it that we can never be in 

the same time

or the same place

too scared to believe in things 

that are actually real.

i told you something true once

but it think you forgot it.

MYLES- April 2, 2009

A thought is a thing
they told me once.
(I try not to think you too often)-
I turn my head off
to our mutual affection.
If I think you again
you may just come true-
warm hands
my mind's thought projection.

(You're fucking me up.)

Is it silly to want to write a poem
that talks about
the way you breathe when you sleep?
How beautiful your eyes are?
Where I want to touch you?

I feel you walk
a song in the distance,
watch the frost from your lungs
in my small ice lantern-
how close you come
to your own reflection.
My body surfaces and breaks-
how close you come
to perfection.



What I'm listening to as I work today: