Personal Journal

There I was in my room at The Leows Hotel in Center City, Philadelphia – The City of Brotherly Love – ironing my blood red, double collared Zara button-up buck ass naked, watching Topher Grace on the TV in “Take Me Home Tonight” and practicing my acceptance speech for Qfest’s Rising Star Award. Yes, I was hammering out the wrinkles in my cotton, using an iron set to high steam mode just inches from my swinging, completely exposed most prized physical appendage.  Don’t be alarmed; I’ve done stupid things and regarded my dick with far more reckless abandon than wielding the hottest appliances within mere inches before. 

Hey, I was in a time crunch. Hence the multitasking theme of the evening. And yes, you’re right. I could’ve easily just put my tighty whities on and severely diminished the awful chances of burning my dick. Sometimes, you just wanna iron your clothes naked.

I think it’s no secret; I’m the defiant sort. I do what I want – even when I know it’s not the best decision for my person. 

It wasn’t until I slipped on my red striped socks, strapped on my new black dress shoes and stood up to recite the last bit of what I wanted to leave the audience with before the screening of “I Was A Teenage Werebear” that I realized it was best to break down then, in peace and privacy, instead of facial contorting sobs where an entire procession of people could witness. 

I find that if I let loose the emotions that are are welling up inside me on my own time, I can avoid doing it in front of people in a way that can be embarrassing. Embarrassing purely because sometimes when I get going, I don’t have much control over when I stop.  I don’t cry often at all. This is, if I had to theorize, probably why when I do begin to cry I cannot stop easily. So, as you might imagine, I do sit in my room alone, or even sit in my car alone, and just let it all flow.  I am a grown man. My father never taught me it was okay to be emotional – but he also never taught me it wasn’t. And I thank him for that.  I’ve been afforded the chance to decide for myself. Though somewhere within me I have my own hang ups about this – I realize my father’s nurture (or lackthereof) has counteracted some of my strange nature. 

So often it’s not one reason or anything in particular that set the tears streaming. It’s everything and nothing at all. 

But this particular time, tucking in my new red shirt into my underwear and buttoning my slacks, it was a line in my speech. One line. By the way, yes, when I wear slacks and button ups I have a habit of buttoning my shirts into my undergarments. The shirt stays in place better and I don’t have to keep fussing with it all night. Yes, you have my permission to use this little trick of mine for yourself. It can be our little secret. 

The line that kept choking me up? 

“If I can change MY stars, anyone can do it.” 

In so many words this was my point. Naturally, I intended it to be less obviously self-disparaging, but still the very point that was killing my heart softly. 

The support I’ve received from filmmakers and friends and much of queer cinema this last year has been more than a little overwhelming. At first I wanted to just think of it as a temporary fad. I didn’t want to believe that it was bankable, probable, fixture for me. And then when Erik Schute from TLA Releasing called me and asked me to come to Philadelphia for the first time in my life to accept an award for being the next up-and-comer to deserve recognition, I had to stop pretending. 

It’s easy to shrug off the compliments when they are coming from your director, writer, friends and the people who make the films with you. Why? Because they already see it within you and you know they see it because they choose you. It’s also easy to thank the fans with a smile and a nod when they graciously ply you with encouragement and comments outside of the realm of how great you get fucked on film. 

But when the third largest queer film festival in America, one of the most respected screening programs on the festival circuit, says you’ve got a real fucking chance at something you want – something you’ve been deathly afraid of admitting you want for too long because the moment you proclaim the truth you fear every chance and opportunity will leave without a trace – then you kinda, sorta gotta stop lying to yourself and everyone for the sake of some pathetic attempt at preserving what you think is dignity. 

Sometimes the world will only give you a hint, a glimmer of yes, and you’ve gotta just grab it. Take it for yourself. Because “yes’s” become “maybe’s” and then “no’s” too quickly. Chances aren’t open-ended. But most bottoms are.  Eew, did I just committ that to my gay porn blog?

This is not something I can do alone. I’ve always known that. Because of being well aware of such a fact, I’ve always been reluctant. When your fate is rooted too squarely in the hands of other people it’s petrifying.  

When enough people give you a chance and you can prove it’s within you to deliver: it’s emotional.

Your Friend & Lover,
Brent Corrigan is the new Sean Paul Lockhart

It was just one of those days. You know the ones I’m talking about?

Allow me to elaborate

I woke up about 10 AM. Downed a protein shake, hoovered a bowl of honey nut cheerios and washed my hair in the shower. I slipped on my riding breeches, cinched myself into my boots & half chaps and headed out the door for my horseback riding lesson. I’ve been riding about 2 times a week; some weeks four times depending on when my next show is. It’s a 45 minute drive to Vista where I ride. Though it’s kind of a trek – and gas prices climb every day – I know I made the right choice for my stable to train at. I have a great trainer who’s the best communicator I’ve ever worked with. Not only that, but he’s got a great sense of humor and he makes me laugh out loud. There have been few people in my life ever I can say that about. I take my riding very seriously but he keeps me grounded. I know eventually I could be one of the greatest jumpers alive but there’s no rush and he keeps me from pressuring myself. It’s the perfect way to unwind while mastering something new.

I’ve been riding an older “once great” show jumper. He’s over at the knee, which makes his legs and knees look very unsteady and it gives him the appearance that he’s long past his prime – and even longer past his point of retirement (he’s 26 years old, horses live to be about 30!). He’s a teacher in so many ways. Not only is he old but he’s still doing what he loves; AND he’s still a viable contender in the amateur show circuit. It’s interesting the kinds of philosophies one can derive from an old Thoroughbred. While he doesn’t look like much from the ground, under saddle he’s fantastic. He can be hard to get moving, but once we’re out on the course and jumping he’s just stellar! He flies around the arena and at those moments, when we’re working together as a team, communicating and sharing a journey around the ring, he’s clearly doing the very thing he’s always loved to do – and still does.

Today was an overcast day. I don’t mind a few overcast days here and there. I grew up in Seattle and for the entire duration of my childhood I didn’t see anything wrong with the way the weather was there in the Pacific Northwest. Then I moved to San Diego and realized it truly does get better. The thing about overcast days and horses is . . . well, it’s simple: horses love cloudy weather. It’s as if the electricity in the sky and in the air all around travels right through them. It energizes them. They’re happier, faster and more spirited. I love a spirited horse! I don’t have any problem getting on one that’s a little more than what I can handle. I’d rather be challenged than not. Which is why the old gray I’ve been riding has been a test of my patience. I digress, everything does happen for a reason.

I had a thoroughly successful training session today! As I finished jumping my course, the last one I would ride for the day, both my horse (His name is Slow Dancer) and I could feel the pulse of success surge through us. The old boy got so excited he shot off toward the next available jump; though we were clearly done. He took me completely for surprise. Instead of pulling him back I went with him. It must’ve been a spectacle because all of a sudden a roar of laughter erupted from the group of girls watching me ride. I guess my horse’s enthusiasm made for a fantastic show! It was one of the biggest thrills a guy could ever encounter!  Doing what I love, doing it well, and then connecting with an animal I want nothing more than to love and be loved by - it’s a feeling of elation and satisfaction that cannot be adequately explained in words.

As I left the stable the clouds parted and the sun came out. I opened the sun roof in my car and let the radio play some of my favorite tunes for the drive.  This afternoon I met a friend for a movie (we saw Rio in 3D). I laughed almost through the entire film. I love birds. It’s a movie about parrots.

Coming home all I could think about was how simple and enjoyable life for me is right now. Sure, if I wanted more I could have it.  Right now I seem to have just the right amount of everything. There are some parts of me that aren’t being stimulated but it doesn’t seem to matter as much. Sex, for instance, is not an element in my life right now. And I’m actually really cool with that. Romance? I have a lover and we write letters to one another. Career? I’ve got two mainstream films doing the festivals that are going to get me out into all kinds of cities to meet people and have new experiences! I’ve got a great group of friends I can count on. This is something I can say truthfully for the first time in a long time. I’m not too stressed about finances.  I have my health and my looks.  Though admittedly my reflection is a far cry different from the day I decided I wanted to use it as my money maker. Who cares? I get to spend time outside under the beautiful sun and clouds riding horses a few times a week! I’ve got goals with the voice classes I’ve been taking. I’m making great progress in so many areas of my life. Everything just feels balanced and uncomplicated. Maybe I could use a bit more balance. But I’m cool with that, too.

I think the key to finding happiness lies in accepting where you are in life and what’s working well for you at the time. Life is ever changing. If it’s not this then it’s that. I figured out for myself long ago that I can’t let my misfortunes or failures dictate my feelings. Best advice coming from the happiest of places: roll with them and find little ways to derive pleasure even when everything else seems bleak.

Afterall, it’s the simple things like a cloudy sky turning blue, an old horse, or a silly little 3D movie that can do wonders for my mood! What about yours?

Your Friend & Lover,
Brent Corrigan

There’s something rewardingly sadistic when you’re reminded you’ve got enough traffic power behind you to topple your fellow porn bloggers Well, their hosting, anyway . . . Last night I tweeted links to The Gay Porn Times (Yes, Hard News. HARD NEWS! I get so excited just writing that!) from my little Meet & Greet at Mickey’s for Cocktails with the Stars. It was Saint Patrick’s Day. Anyway, true to Brent Corrigan form and follower, all I had to do was mention I was in the buff (standing next one buff & studly Billy Heights!) in the pictures there and followers flocked. I also told commenter’s I’d kiss them.

Hey, I’m Irish like that. If you’d like to see the pictures, head on over to Gay Porn Times (HARD NEWS!) and check them out yourself. They were such a hit JC added another round:

Article One

Article Two

I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun at a little Meet & Greet like this one.  As time passes I collect more of these under my belt, but do fewer now than ever before.  I’ve created a condition where I pressure myself too much.  This time, at Cocktails, I just let loose (eventually, anyway) and decided I wasn’t going to concern myself with breaking down the porn stereoptypes. In short, I wasn’t trying too hard to prove I’m not just another gay porn star. You are what you will. Besides, it’s more than just a little nuts trying to prove you’re not just a porn star at a porn star event where people take their clothes off and cover their genitals with fuzzy green tophats! Confused? Go see those pictures and you’ll get it.

I do have one confession to make. There are a few reasons for why I do fewer and fewer appearances. One of them is a developing condition that I haven’t really been able to explain until recently. It’s strange that such a thing should happen to me because – frankly, who am I kidding? I love being on stage and I love people watching me. I think that’s a product of growing up in a house with 4 kids and 2 parents that were rarely around (very little doting and attention for lil’ Sean). Admittedly, also it’s just part of my personality. I love to show. I love to be a good show. The point I’m working toward here is – while being on stage is attractive to me, being in a crowd has become scary.  I haven’t been formally diagnosed, but I’d cop it up to a mild form of agoraphobia. It’s not crippling by any means; but these sorts of things do tend to manifest stronger as time passes. Who knows. Maybe I just have less patience than I should. When I arrive at events, or I go out to clubs and bars, street fairs – anything of the like, it takes me a good 30-60 minutes to acclimate. Within that time period I’m very standoffish. I don’t really want to try and carry out a conversation with anyone but those I know best and are most comfortable with.  I need to breathe. I need to focus on relaxing. I need to familiarize myself with the people in the room, where the exits are, and where I can stand if things get to be too much.  For me, it’s best to arrive at an event like this earlier on so as people arrive and the venue fills, I can take it all on little by little. Sometimes if I know it’s going to be nuts right away upon arrival I’ll take a Xanax before arriving (prescribed!) or just have a few shots. I prefer to be on-point and sharp of mind when I’m on the mic or talking with people I am meeting for the first time. However, it’s more important that I’m calm and moderately sedated than have me run screaming from a bar with my arms flailing above my head and people wondering what kind of drugs I’ve overdosed on. Because, let’s face it, when a porn star acts crazy people almost always automatically jump to those kinds of conclusions.

For Cocktails, I arrived and practically freaked.  At first I probably appeared very troubled, annoyed, or anxious. It was purely a product of me struggling to get a grip on myself. Within 20 minutes I was able to say hello to everyone and I was able to be “on” the way people expected me to be.

So, enjoy the pictures of “The Body” (Gotta go to HARD NEWS to see ‘em!) and I hope getting a little peek into “The Mind” was just as enlightening for you

Your Friend & Lover,
Brent Corrigan