Lana Kan Kinbaku

Author: Lana Kan

  • Why do I take photos?

    I recently answered this question on Fetlife, but there is so much to say on that it is larger than a comment..

    Since I bought a camera photography has grown from an interest into a passion, and combining this with kinbaku, exploring using the camera in play consciously has been very interesting.

    The camera has become a tool for me to objectify her, to expose her, to take distance and create different emotions. I don´t try to “hide” that I am taking photos, I want her to know that her vulnerability is being seen and captured in all it´s rawness.

    Tying in the sunflower fields in Italy, Summer 2025

    I want to witness the emotional vulnerability of the person being tied. Knowing that their feelings will be captured by the lens creates a new way of exposure: emotionally she cannot hide.

    Rope Jam at Fem Rope Getaway in Provence, September 2025

    When we tie I tend to stay close to her, taking maybe 2 meters of space from her body during the scene. In contrast, the camera prompts me to take more distance and capture the entire setting, scene, location, and how she relates to it.

    The distance completely changes the scene and emotions we both feel.

    Tying and shooting on the cliffs of Mallorca, July 2025.

    Excitement. Longing. loneliness. fear. trust. power.

    My heart beats faster, seconds slow, as I see the emotions wash over her – those big brown eyes start searching for me desperately.

    I never would have experienced these feelings in a scene if I didn´t take a camera, because I would not otherwise have taken this distance from her.

    Shooting in an abandoned radio tower in Lefkada Greece, Summer 2025

    Wielding a camera gives me more power: she is in front of the lens and I behind it, both causing and documenting her suffering. It feels very powerful and sadistic to focus and shoot when there is this soft, sad creature before me crying.

    From a sadistic scene in the olive groves of Lefkada Greece, summer 2025

    In this way the camera becomes a mirror. I don’t just see her, I see myself.

    I see what I have done to her. I face my desires and actions and who I am.

    I´ve also realised that she can read my mood through the photos I take: close shots of her breasts and genitals reveal my crude thoughts unconsciously.

    A playdate at home, November 2025

    Walking around her body, slowly shooting up close, no care for her face to be included, she feels deeply objectified, used even.

    Photography as a part of play has allowed us to explore deeper into themes of ownership, vulnerability, loneliness, exposure. I no longer take photos to document our progress, to review / critique my own rope work, it is a much more powerful tool for invoking emotions and communicating in-scene, and bringing our fantasies to life.

    Aside from the in-scene, I have some lesser motivations for taking photos which relate to my own development personally.

    I enjoy a lot to review photos in the days after a scene, to relive the moment and process, as a part of aftercare. Admiring her. Facing myself.

    Photography has also helped me understand what elements of beauty are the impactful to me in kinbaku: the models expression, the sense of vulnerability, the story, the location / context and what emotion it transmits, the lighting, and sense of time slowing down, frozen. The best kinbaku photos are the ones where you don´t see the rope – you see the models feeling and vulnerability.

    Shooting in an abandoned refuge in the mountains of Italy, summer 2025

    Whether or not there’s a camera, these elements can be played with and impact the scene; but I wouldn’t have learned this without taking thousands of photos and studying the work of great photographers and friends whose work I admire.

    In the past never used to care for beauty and aesthetic in rope, but I have grown to have a deep appreciation for it, and for how beauty can make a model feel. When I can show Midori how beautiful she is in rope, I feel a sense of pride from honouring everything she gives me.

    The “oephelia” summertime shooting in a lake in Italy, 2025

    A good photo should make you feel something. When I take one of these tying Midori, it is a treasure, because it allows that feeling to live forever.

    Midori hanging on top of the world at the abandoned radio tower of Lefkada, Greece, summer 2025

  • The Edge

    Our weekend trip to Mallorca was full of hope but beleaguered with issues. We were there to celebrate our friends’ wedding (which coincided with our first anniversary together!); but had a rough start after airport strikes and a subsequent overnight ferry trip.

    We had little opportunity but we were both so eager to tie. Kinbaku has become a central part of how we communicate our deepest and truest selves to one another. Where we are vulnerable, intimate and deeply connected.

    On the last day we checked out of the hotel and drove. I knew a spot by the lighthouse, away far from the road, with magnificent views.

    We parked and set out walking, past the lighthouse, over a fence, and into the rocky brush.

    I led her to the cliffs edge.

    We sat down to take in the harsh cliffs and the enormity of the sea. It was humbling.

    We are sitting on the edge of the world.

    My heart is beating faster. Equal parts thrill and arousal. Once I am satisfied she is seated as safely as possible, we begin.

    I savour every second, every heavy breath, pushing my hands and ropes onto her body. enjoying. taking. exploring.

    We´ve been exploring photography as a play medium, using the camera as a tool to play with her and to expose her. This is the impetus behind this blog actually: to explore and share my photography journey in a more meaningful way than a 4 word post to fetlife or instagram.

    I take my camera and distance myself from her. A lot.

    Enough to make her heart race a little faster.

    I stalk her.

    I moved behind bushes, slowly zig zagging my way closer and closer to her.

    Her eyes track me constantly, refusing to lose sight of me.

    So beautiful.

    So alone.

    The tension grows as I come closer and closer to her.

    I sit behind her, grabbing her into my arms.

    The climax.

    Both so happy to be alive together, sitting on the edge of the world.

  • An Odyssey

    All week we had been searching for locations, but we were hindered by my tired shoulder, and the ever-present heat.

    On a drive I spotted a ruin set along the cliffside, above a little beachy cove. The little olive grove attached ran up the sharp angle of the cliff. Close to the road, yet private and invisible from below. This was our spot.

    When tying in nature you must adapt. There is no bamboo, no well-worn tatamis or cushions to sit on. The steep slope, irregular rocky ground and thorny vegetation challenge us both. There can be no “planned shape” or “position” or “inspirational photo” that I am trying to recreate – what happens is a direct result of the landscape around us, and the moment we are in.

    She stands while I tie her. (She misses being in seiza).

    When I attach the tsuri, she lets out a small sigh. (She is enjoying the feeling).

    I lift her legs onto my knee, and begin to put the rope around her waist, and under her ass. The position is stressful, the entire tie becoming a predicament for her. (I am enjoying the feeling).

    She is sweating. (We are sweating).

    Her dress wet with sweat rips as I try to pull it free.

    The heat bears down, and tires her faster. (We tire faster)

    A drop of sweat rolls off her face.

    She gives me her all.

    All her energy.

    All her sweat and fluids.

    All the air in her lungs.

    Her legs stretch out, in an attempt to make space for more air, but she suffers for it.

    Her toes curl. (Feet are not happy).

    “Look at me”. She give me her gaze. (It costs her more air).

    This island connects me to my ancestors. The slowness of the land and the heat of the sun. The olives and figs and salty water, the blood that runs in my veins. Now she feels it. Now she shares it too.

    We are both tired. (We are both proud).