Sex work is not a monolithic culture of human trafficking and abuse. Conversations that break stigmas, explore empowerment, and encourage consent are a huge part of the adult industry. This isn’t to say that people don’t become involved in sex work because of unfortunate circumstances or that human trafficking isn’t an alarming concern—those fears are valid. But as a former sex worker and current artist, I know what it can be like to be in the adult industry in the public sphere. For some artists, traumatic stories and personal histories are shared through their art. For others, documentation of queerness and sexual liberation accompany their erotic work.
“Although creative work is just as labor intensive, the market has yet to understand creative work as an equally equitable labor, so fighting for fair compensation is something I do on the [regular],” Arredondo says. The Humboldt Park resident isn’t in the position to take out loans or to take on more debt, so sex work has given her the “capital to kickstart a few businesses” and to also continue her art career. “I was able to save, and to take better care of myself, due to the income I was pulling in,” she says. “Essentially, I’ve been monetarily empowered.”
Amarillo began working as a sugar baby in 2016 and is now primarily a dominatrix. “In the past year I’ve traveled to seven different countries, choreographed and produced my own show, trained in aerial dance with world champion performers—none of this would be possible without the freedom and fiscal empowerment sex work has afforded me,” she says. “Being a professional artist is . . . hard. Not only is it a severely underfunded pursuit, attaching one’s creative process to financial ‘success’ or recognition can be a halting, demoralizing experience.” A poet and a storyteller most of her life, Amarillo is a dancer trained in hip-hop, contemporary, and dancehall whose work has been presented at New York’s MoMA PS 1 and here at Links Hall at Constellation. Her choreography represents sex work and its influence on a person’s identity and perceptions.
Ramona Slick, 23, finds the “bearings of capitalism to be far more degrading” than the work she does in the sex industry. “I can’t see what’s possibly degrading about being my own boss, being financially secure by my own means, and still having the time and emotional energy to be able to pour into my art,” they explain. Apart from working in stripping, fetish work, sugaring, and camming, the artist is a performer and digital illustrator. “My art, much like my life, is inherently queer, high femme, fabulous, and very sexy.” Slick, a performance artist, incorporates femme confidence with campy and elaborate costumes to play on their experience as a dancer and dominatrix.
