So guess what, my 78-year-old airbnb hostess in the Yucca Valley desert turns out to be the niece of Aldous Huxley. When I met her yesterday, I thought, wow, here is the “ghost of my future self,” to paraphrase my poet friend, Lisa Luxx. I have always wanted to be the crazy lady living on the hill and here I was:
She is called Olivia de Haulleville, she is originally from Belgium and I only found out she was Huxley’s niece when she explained that she had to leave for a few days to have a documentary made about her. It felt like a coincidence because I mention Huxley in Sex Drive. He too was into the idea of finding enlightenment on the West coast of America and in 1932’s Brave New World comes up with the idea of Soma which is like a modern-day Ecstasy i.e. a drug which makes people feel blissful and which the government hands out to them so the status quo never gets disrupted.
The people in this part of the desert don’t seem to favour Soma or E. Her next door neighbours, Olivia pointed out, have turned their house into a marijuana farm and the ones behind them have a caravan-trailer thing that she believes is being used as a Breaking Bad-style crystal meth lab. So much for spirituality in the desert. I missed this aspect of deserted desert life on my trip here last year. Still, the encounter with Olivia was great because we were soon talking about orgasm. She has just written a self-published book called Autobiography of a Fairy which she has dedicated “to Orgasm.” Her uncle Aldous said to her one day as she was accompanying him on a walk through the desert in Antelope Valley with the Indian religious thinker, Krishnamurti that she should make up her own religion and it seems that she has. We had a talk last night over a cup of chai tea (she lived in India a long time, also Indonesia and Paris in the 1950s where she worked at the Pornhub.com of the day, The Olympia Press which published Lolita and The Naked Lunch when nobody else dared to. Her boss was the famous Maurice Girodias).
She’s a renegade tantrica and her line on orgasm is that masturbation and sex have nothing to do with it. In fact, she hates the word, “sex.” When she was in her 20s and living in Greece, the babysitter for Leonard Cohen’s kids told her that he could have an orgasm just by thinking about it. My friend, Barry Komiseruk, a neuro scientist from Rutgers University calls this, “thinking off.” Some people can come just by thinking. Olivia says she has spent her life trying to “take my mind off ‘sex’ when I have orgasms because I don’t want to get caught in the sex thing.”
Her sentiments reminded me of Nicole Daedone and her Orgasmic Medication company which is now huge in LA. The idea is that the clitoris is the third eye and you don’t need to aim for anything as ordinaire as a climax. She reminds me too of Annie Sprinkle and her non-genital “energy orgasms.” Olivia’s belief is that the world is full of orgasm energy, you just have to know how to capture it. She now has what she calls ‘spontaneous orgasms’ while she’s just lying in the sun. “I’ve never had to rely on men,” she says. She first masturbated when she was 12 and the sensation reminded her of how she felt when she saw someone peel an onion when she was 8. “Wow,” I thought. Olivia is very advanced. I can get my mind around having a body orgasm while sunbathing but while watching an onion being peeled? A friend later told her that peeling an onion is a symbol of eternity. I wish I could get off by thinking of eternity. Obviously I need to practice more.
Still, it was great to meet a like-minded 78-year-old in the middle of nowhere. I guess there’s a lot of time to think about orgasms in the desert.
We had to stop our chin-wag because at that moment, the man who Olivia refers to affectionately as “the red neck Jew” turned up. He and Olivia are great friends, even though he, Garland, votes for Donald Trump. Garland must be Olivia’s age and he was very friendly. I noted that he had half a finger missing on his left hand and part of his right thumb gone. He offered to take me on a Harley ride through the desert.
I might take him up on the offer even thought Olivia sighed last night that he is always talking about his conquests and how he’s been “pumping, pumping.” I nodded but said that not everyone could get into onion peeling sex. Meanwhile, the marijuana house has just drowned out the buzz of the humming birds with what sounds like drum and base. I’m going to head down to the town. Shops I noticed yesterday include “Loan Lady,” “Cheap Cigarettes” and “Dirty Dog Massage.”