Bowling Green born artist curates sexy, uncensored magazine for queer creatives
I Will Follow You to BG ‘Cause That’s What Us Boys Are For
In 2022, I stumbled upon an Instagram post of a sun-kissed bronze, tatted, and otteresque artist, Zain Curtis. He had recently gained notoriety from screen printing T-shirts with blood infused paint to raise awareness of the homophobic blood ban in the United States. With a bit of “pick-me” energy, I feverishly DMed, “I have to write about you for Queer Kentucky.” Unbeknown to me, Curtis is a Bluegrass-bred boy and was happy to join me in getting back to his Bowling Green roots.
If you’re a queer person who fancies erotic art, raunchy porn, drag culture, and controversy, then you’ve gotten your gooey thumb stuck onto a kink-inspired photo of creator Zain Curtis.
Curtis, also known by his Instagram handle @Happydevilboy or his magazine, SENSITIVE CONTENT @sensitivecontentmag, has built an extensive career in queer media — and he loves creating media around all things sex, specifically kink and fetish.
“I always found it so mind-blowing that we have the most fucked up relationship with what is the most natural to us — blood, urine, cum, menstruation, sex, shitting, vomit — like if everything else in the world disappeared and it was just our bodies, these would be all we know,” says the SENSITIVE CONTENT magazine founder.
When Curtis began creating art on these topics in a social media-focused world, he was met with post removals, shadow bans, and full account bans. He also started noticing a trend: queer creatives were constantly getting scrubbed and censored from the Internet.
“Most things I created were things purely to be viewed on social media,” the sex industry entrepreneur said. “I didn’t keep copies of it, so all of my photos of that time in my life, the things I made, and everything about it were just gone forever,” he said. “People are like, ‘Oh, what you post on the internet lasts forever,’ but that’s so not true.”
He adds that Meta, the parent brand of Instagram, has bulldozed any competing apps that would be a suitable outlet for his art and that banks and payment processors have the overall decision on what rules apps have to follow if they want to be used with mass audiences.
SENSITIVE CONTENT was born out of a reaction to the censoring of queer artists. Curtis describes the magazine as a “visual showcase of artwork and photos by LGBTQIA+ creators that have been removed or restricted by social media platforms.”
“[SENSITIVE CONTENT] came together naturally, and before I knew it, I found so many cool artists going through the same issues with social media,” he explains. “It’s a baby to me. I’m still figuring out what the future of it can be, but right now, it’s been a fun side project when I’m not working on my own things.”
At first, the Happy Devil Boy painter said the magazine was purely about removed posts, but he realized a rift existed between queer readers’ ideas of what they would see and Curtis’ ideas of what SENSITIVE CONTENT was about.
Curtis wants the magazine to be an unbiased and offline space for any and all ideas by queer and trans people, not a bubble of similar thinking.
“It’s hard to figure that out and make that a sellable thing to different types of people because no one really wants to listen to anyone that they don’t fully agree with anymore” he said. “There’s a formula to it that I haven’t harnessed yet, but I’m excited for its growth.”
In his magazine, Curtis and his writers cover topics of all sorts: gooning, trans bodies, public sex, political activism and more. With the tagline, “Make the Algorithm Cum,” the featured uncensored creators certainly don’t edge their audience for long.
Curtis believes that people love collecting things like tangible magazines — something the internet hasn’t taken away from us.
“It is a different feeling to hold content you enjoy in your hands versus seeing it on a screen,” says Curtis. “There’s much more attachment to it, and I think it lingers in people’s minds more.”
Although Curtis may be known well for his provocative nudey magazine during this portion of his 15 minutes of fame, the well-rounded artist has been in the game since an early age.
After leaving his hometown of Bowling Green, Ky., he landed where many midwestern/southern gays land: Chicago. The Windy City is where Curtis went to film school, began DJing and curating events, and started his first publication, Teen Witch Magazine.
“[It] was what I called an underground teen magazine that featured all trans and queer artists and social media personalities of the time. It was basically promoting my friends, but I made it look like a teeny-bopper magazine and made fold-out posters, sticker sheets, and puzzles for them,” he said. “It was like a way of finding cool people and instantly idolizing them. I think SENSITIVE CONTENT is like the adult version of that.”
One of Curtis’ projects went viral in 2022 when he used gay men’s blood to protest the blood ban on queer men. In a statement on his Instagram Curtis said, “No, really. Printed with ink infused with the blood of gay men. Using screen printing ink from Stuart Semple × Mother’s GAY BLOOD collection.”
Bold and controversial pieces are at the core of Curtis’ entrepreneurial journey — so is his personality. He said his favorite aspect of being a founder is the independence. And who could blame him?
“If I want to fuck off I can and most likely will, probably to a fault,” he said. “I can create my own world and make something from nothing. That’s got to be a skill within itself.”
Through all of the projects, controversy, and stress Curtis has experienced, he said the best thing he has learned is to ask for help and collaborate with others.
On Kentucky
Does Kentucky play a role in any of your creations? Do you pull inspiration from home, ever?
I’m really getting into country music, the Southern lifestyle, and cowboy culture and feeling more involved with something I basically ran away from. I spent enough time away that I can appreciate what it is now. I look back at growing up there, and I’m very inspired to write a book about it. I’m hoping to start that this year between everything else. I thought about staying in Kentucky for the summer to really feel it. It would be so emotional, but I see it all. I have to get the story out of me. I also have to do my banjo lessons, so we will see what I have the time for. Sometimes, it’s not what was around me that I get inspired by, but the feeling of when I lived there. It might have been mostly not having to pay for shelter, but there was such a sense of non-urgency that I really tried to hang onto. Like “I will get there when I get there” kind of feeling. The dicking around town with no purpose, but the purpose was just to have fun. Like the most mundane things were my favorite memories, I don’t know if I’m trying to recreate that or push my thoughts away for a moment to live. I’m always fucking worried about something now though, it’s hard.
Do you miss home?
I miss everything. I’m a very nostalgic person. I miss my exes, my old friendships, even the shitty living situations. I constantly live in the past; it’s the only thing that calms me, it seems. I miss Kentucky and my family a lot, but every time I go back, it’s like a shell of what I felt there before. Most people I knew moved away or grew up and had their own families. It’s a weird feeling. I chase those old feelings all the time. When I visited my mom last, I went around town and just visited all the old places I would hang out at. I went and saw a movie alone at the theater I used to work at and just had crazy memories flood my mind. Jackass was my favorite tv show, so my friends would do the absolute worst pranks on each other. One was “borrowing” deer piss from the Wal-Mart hunting section and chasing each other and splashing it on our clothes. One time, I opened my car door and was knocked off my feet by the smell. My friend poured so many bottles of it all over my seats. I never got that smell out of my car. I went to work, and they sent me home because of the smell on me. I drove to the parking lot and was like, “Aww, that’s where my car was parked when that happened.” So yes, I miss home. I miss everything.
How has the west coast treated you?
I really love the West; it’s somewhere I never imagined I would be, but it’s indescribable what the desert has done for me and my mental health. I was so painstakingly depressed when I moved to LA; everything seemed like such a challenge and not a ladder I even wanted to climb. I’m so happy I made the choice to live in the desert and basically got to start over. It was the first time I started to feel that Kentucky feeling of non-urgency again. I needed to be alone and recalibrate what I was doing and wanted to do. I recently moved to Las Vegas. Just because it’s cheaper than California and there’s a bit more opportunity than living in the middle of nowhere. It doesn’t feel like home, but a rest stop along the way. It is inspiring, the people are really fucking weird and such characters. It’s so trashy; I fit right in. I have in my head that I’ll live on a little ranch in a trailer outside the city, just far enough to see the glow of the strip. Have chickens, a horse and two goats. That’s all I want is two goats.
This story is part of ISSUE 05: Reimagining Masculinity. The magazine is available for purchase here.