I'm not sure if it's amazing that after almost fifteen years of having super long hair I'm still learning new things to do with it, or if it's actually a little sad - especially considering that when people try to give me tips on taking care of it, my default reaction is, "you think I don't have it figured out by now?" The truth is, I'm not as adventurous as I might be, and, for what it's worth, I like to blame my upbringing as a boy instead of a girl for me not having the opportunity to learn all the hair tricks most girls take for granted.
For example, when I started going swimming again after a too-long hiatus, I originally had my friend put my hair up into a bun to keep it contained and out of the water, until I learned that it's so much easier, and not really any less effective, as long as you don't mind your hair getting wet (and that's usually inevitable anyway), to just simply braid it and be done! And, that's something I can do all by myself without too much hassle. In fact, I'd been lamenting my lack of experience braiding hair for many long years, and this gives me an opportunity to get some practice.
Even more, I've recently gotten into the habit of braiding my hair twice a day, so I'm definitely getting used to it now. And every day when I take my hair out of its braid, I like to brush it out before either washing it or braiding it again (to get all the loose strands under control). Braiding it makes my hair wavy, and brushing it out makes it bushy, and also very light and blonde. To be fair, this isn't anything I didn't genuinely know before -
I'm just reacquainting myself and getting more familiarity with it than
I've had in the past.
[description: series of nude bathroom mirror selfies emphasizing waist-length, blonde hair]
It's pretty wild and frizzy, but I have to say that it looks remarkable, and gives it new life that I didn't really think was possible up to a day or longer since its last washing. I was so taken with its beauty the other day, that I decided to do an impromptu photoshoot. I really liked how feminine my long hair looked, cascading over my soft and smooth skin, contrasting with the masculine cues of my chest and penis. I've never really liked the look of a girl with a penis, as you can see in so many "tranny" pictures on the internet, but I think I can better appreciate a man with naturally feminine traits.
[description: series of androgynous nude portraits of a feminine man with wavy, cascading hair]
It's inevitable that the rules of whatever photo site[s] I'm sharing my photos on will influence my photography. When I was on flickr, their lax rules regarding pornography inspired me to continually push the boundaries of my comfort zone. For that I am undoubtedly thankful, although I wonder if it's made me too liberal for the mainstream art world. Knowing myself, however, perhaps that was predestined, as the stricter rules on deviantART are frequently frustrating.
In the grand scheme of things, they're not so bad, as they're very pro-nudity (if you ignore the conservative dweebs on the site who are constantly complaining). The main thing is just that they don't allow erections. So, I started getting into the habit of occasionally shooting "tame" versions of my racier shots, with erections replaced with flaccid penises. In some cases, it works, although in many (especially where the erection is not incidental, but a key component of the eroticism of the image), it just falls flat.
Maybe this makes me a maverick, but then I started shooting myself in a semi-engorged state, trying to get my penis to look as large as possible, while still hanging down and not standing erect. It's certainly an interesting look, and I have to admit it's kind of exciting to almost feel like you're slipping one past the censors. Not that I'm interested in breaking the rules and getting myself banned, I just believe that good art pushes boundaries, and does not succumb to the chilling effect. Plus, the erection rule treats erections like a black and white, on or off switch kind of a thing, when the reality is a lot more complicated than that. Yay for shades of grey!
Friday, May 29, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Shirtless Anxiety
Contrary to what I wrote in my last post, I am currently in the process of trying to slim down and get fit. I know I'm not significantly overweight or anything, and I'm pretty lucky in terms of having a decent body shape without really trying, but there's always room for a little improvement, and ever since I started filling out in my early twenties, I've lamented the loss of my super-skinny teenage physique:
[description: sultry teenage selfie in a pair of jeans with no shirt]
I've been sporadically trying various things over the years with limited results, but just this spring, I've witnessed my own brother get totally into shape, and it's been inspiring. It's one thing if you read or hear second-hand a bunch of tips on diet and exercise and things like that, or see some movie star with millions of dollars to throw around on personal trainers and career weight-training get fit for a movie or something, but it's another thing entirely when somebody you know, in your own little world of personal acquaintances, accomplishes the same thing right before your very eyes.
So I've borrowed his regimen for slimming down (since I don't care to be overly muscle-bound) - which relies on three simple rules: exercise more, eat less, and cut out the sweets - and so far the effects have been impressive. I've dropped at least 15 pounds in about a month or so, built up just a little bit of muscle, and I feel like I'm just getting started!
As far as muscle is concerned, my philosophy is "a little bit is alright". Just enough to look toned and help keep me fit. I don't want to be buff, I want to be lean.
So anyway, I'm a nudist, right? And an exhibitionist - take your pick. I like to wear as little clothing as I can get away with. And, I feel more confident showing off my body if I have a nice body to show off. Now, maybe this is terrible (I wouldn't have wrote that last blog post if I didn't have some anxiety about this), but I feel as though you have to be attractive to earn the privilege of showing off your body. In a perfect world, it wouldn't matter - the nudist ethos would reign throughout society. But I know that people disparage other people who show off anything less than a perfect body, and my anxiety can't help but tune in to that.
So for the few years now that I've been occasionally walking the trail at this one park not too far from where I live, I've had it in my mind that I'd like to walk with my shirt off on those hot, summer days, but I haven't had the confidence to do so, until just recently. And it's kind of silly, because at that same park there's a pool that I've been to (it's the one I complain about not allowing Speedos - here, and again here), so it's not like I haven't walked around nearly the same area without a shirt on before!
But it's one of those context things. Men are expected to be shirtless at the pool. I feel like if you're just walking around the trail, you need an excuse if you're going to take your shirt off - and that actually means I push myself to jog more than I otherwise would, because I want people who see me to think, "oh, he took his shirt off because he's exercising and it's hot", and not, "huh, that guy's not wearing a shirt, I wonder why (is he a pervert)?"
Think about it. As far as I know, there are no laws restricting a man or a woman from wearing, essentially, a swimsuit outdoors in public. But how often do you see women wearing no more than a bikini while just walking down the street? Maybe on the boardwalk, but everywhere else? It's legal. But socially, it's kind of frowned upon (I guess, in a woman's case, there are issues involved with getting unwanted attention from men).
As much as a socio-political radical as I am, you'd think I'd be more gung-ho about pushing the boundaries of what's socially acceptable, especially when I can do so without breaking any laws. Think of it this way - if public nudity were explicitly protected by law, don't you think I'd be out there on the streets in my birthday suit, whether it was socially acceptable yet or not? Yet how often do you see topless women in those few places where topfreedom is protected by law? I often think to myself, I wish I were a woman living in one of those places, so I could be one of the activists who takes advantage of topfreedom to try and acclimate the local culture into being more desensitized to this legal behavior.
And yet, there are things I could be doing instead, that maybe I'm not doing enough of. Like not wearing a shirt outdoors in the summer. Though I see guys doing this on occasion, and most of the time, they're skinny, or they have tattoos and stuff to show off, or when they're not, they're fat and hairy and my social programming makes me feel like they're doing something wrong, and again I feel like that kind of exposure is a privilege enforced by society via the piercing tongue of shame.
On the other hand, I am already involved in a lot of desensitizing activities - like wearing the skimpiest swimsuit I think I can get away with at the pool or beach (while being a man, since this is normal for women to do), or wearing dresses in public. But that's another issue that adds to my anxiety about going topless. I'm transgender, and since I identify with and frequently present as female, I feel a little uncomfortable going topless in public, because it's like announcing to the whole neighborhood - yeah, I'm not really a woman, I just like to wear women's clothes.
Is it unfair of me to want people to treat me as female, when I'm willing to turn around and take advantage of male privilege in the form of going topless in public? Or am I merely making the most of my situation? After all, my philosophy is that men and women alike should be able to go topless (and bottomless!) in public without any hassle. But I'm not actually a woman - I'm a sexed male who identifies as female, and in other cases, I have no problem cherry-picking what I like from the male and female columns.
But I don't know where I stand in the eyes of the rest of my community, and I sometimes feel as though I'm better off letting them just think I'm female for as long as possible, without confusing them with my bigendered, "female today, male tomorrow" performance (although in reality, it's usually some in-between chimera). It doesn't help that I live in a fairly backwards town. But it's not completely realistic for me to be all female all the time, because I'm simply not. If I tried to wear a bikini at the pool, for example, few people would be fooled long enough for me to get away with it. And I don't want to be all male all the time - because I'm not that, either.
[description: portrait of a man on a porch in a pair of tennis shoes and running shorts]
So, anyway, this is what I wore on the trail today. The other thing is that by taking off my shirt, I was hoping to even out my tan a little. I'm not a fan of tan lines. I don't want the dark nudist tan, either - I like my pale skin - but a little summer color is fine, and probably unavoidable. It's just that if all I'm ever wearing out in the sunshine (when I'm not visiting a nudist camp) is basically shorts and a t-shirt, then I get those awkward lines on my arms and thighs where my skin color transitions from sun-kissed to moonlight-bright. Although taking my shirt off doesn't help with my thighs. I'm tempted to lay out on the porch in a thong, but it's not very private, and it doesn't get a lot of direct sunlight in the first place...
[description: sultry teenage selfie in a pair of jeans with no shirt]
I've been sporadically trying various things over the years with limited results, but just this spring, I've witnessed my own brother get totally into shape, and it's been inspiring. It's one thing if you read or hear second-hand a bunch of tips on diet and exercise and things like that, or see some movie star with millions of dollars to throw around on personal trainers and career weight-training get fit for a movie or something, but it's another thing entirely when somebody you know, in your own little world of personal acquaintances, accomplishes the same thing right before your very eyes.
So I've borrowed his regimen for slimming down (since I don't care to be overly muscle-bound) - which relies on three simple rules: exercise more, eat less, and cut out the sweets - and so far the effects have been impressive. I've dropped at least 15 pounds in about a month or so, built up just a little bit of muscle, and I feel like I'm just getting started!
[description: naked bathroom mirror selfie with muscles flexed]
I got a little sunburn...
I got a little sunburn...
As far as muscle is concerned, my philosophy is "a little bit is alright". Just enough to look toned and help keep me fit. I don't want to be buff, I want to be lean.
So anyway, I'm a nudist, right? And an exhibitionist - take your pick. I like to wear as little clothing as I can get away with. And, I feel more confident showing off my body if I have a nice body to show off. Now, maybe this is terrible (I wouldn't have wrote that last blog post if I didn't have some anxiety about this), but I feel as though you have to be attractive to earn the privilege of showing off your body. In a perfect world, it wouldn't matter - the nudist ethos would reign throughout society. But I know that people disparage other people who show off anything less than a perfect body, and my anxiety can't help but tune in to that.
So for the few years now that I've been occasionally walking the trail at this one park not too far from where I live, I've had it in my mind that I'd like to walk with my shirt off on those hot, summer days, but I haven't had the confidence to do so, until just recently. And it's kind of silly, because at that same park there's a pool that I've been to (it's the one I complain about not allowing Speedos - here, and again here), so it's not like I haven't walked around nearly the same area without a shirt on before!
But it's one of those context things. Men are expected to be shirtless at the pool. I feel like if you're just walking around the trail, you need an excuse if you're going to take your shirt off - and that actually means I push myself to jog more than I otherwise would, because I want people who see me to think, "oh, he took his shirt off because he's exercising and it's hot", and not, "huh, that guy's not wearing a shirt, I wonder why (is he a pervert)?"
Think about it. As far as I know, there are no laws restricting a man or a woman from wearing, essentially, a swimsuit outdoors in public. But how often do you see women wearing no more than a bikini while just walking down the street? Maybe on the boardwalk, but everywhere else? It's legal. But socially, it's kind of frowned upon (I guess, in a woman's case, there are issues involved with getting unwanted attention from men).
As much as a socio-political radical as I am, you'd think I'd be more gung-ho about pushing the boundaries of what's socially acceptable, especially when I can do so without breaking any laws. Think of it this way - if public nudity were explicitly protected by law, don't you think I'd be out there on the streets in my birthday suit, whether it was socially acceptable yet or not? Yet how often do you see topless women in those few places where topfreedom is protected by law? I often think to myself, I wish I were a woman living in one of those places, so I could be one of the activists who takes advantage of topfreedom to try and acclimate the local culture into being more desensitized to this legal behavior.
And yet, there are things I could be doing instead, that maybe I'm not doing enough of. Like not wearing a shirt outdoors in the summer. Though I see guys doing this on occasion, and most of the time, they're skinny, or they have tattoos and stuff to show off, or when they're not, they're fat and hairy and my social programming makes me feel like they're doing something wrong, and again I feel like that kind of exposure is a privilege enforced by society via the piercing tongue of shame.
On the other hand, I am already involved in a lot of desensitizing activities - like wearing the skimpiest swimsuit I think I can get away with at the pool or beach (while being a man, since this is normal for women to do), or wearing dresses in public. But that's another issue that adds to my anxiety about going topless. I'm transgender, and since I identify with and frequently present as female, I feel a little uncomfortable going topless in public, because it's like announcing to the whole neighborhood - yeah, I'm not really a woman, I just like to wear women's clothes.
Is it unfair of me to want people to treat me as female, when I'm willing to turn around and take advantage of male privilege in the form of going topless in public? Or am I merely making the most of my situation? After all, my philosophy is that men and women alike should be able to go topless (and bottomless!) in public without any hassle. But I'm not actually a woman - I'm a sexed male who identifies as female, and in other cases, I have no problem cherry-picking what I like from the male and female columns.
But I don't know where I stand in the eyes of the rest of my community, and I sometimes feel as though I'm better off letting them just think I'm female for as long as possible, without confusing them with my bigendered, "female today, male tomorrow" performance (although in reality, it's usually some in-between chimera). It doesn't help that I live in a fairly backwards town. But it's not completely realistic for me to be all female all the time, because I'm simply not. If I tried to wear a bikini at the pool, for example, few people would be fooled long enough for me to get away with it. And I don't want to be all male all the time - because I'm not that, either.
[description: portrait of a man on a porch in a pair of tennis shoes and running shorts]
So, anyway, this is what I wore on the trail today. The other thing is that by taking off my shirt, I was hoping to even out my tan a little. I'm not a fan of tan lines. I don't want the dark nudist tan, either - I like my pale skin - but a little summer color is fine, and probably unavoidable. It's just that if all I'm ever wearing out in the sunshine (when I'm not visiting a nudist camp) is basically shorts and a t-shirt, then I get those awkward lines on my arms and thighs where my skin color transitions from sun-kissed to moonlight-bright. Although taking my shirt off doesn't help with my thighs. I'm tempted to lay out on the porch in a thong, but it's not very private, and it doesn't get a lot of direct sunlight in the first place...
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Fit or Fat
Several posts ago, I linked a blog on tumblr created by a woman who shares nude images of herself for educational purposes, yet has a very grounded perspective on the human sexual impulse. She has also posted a fantastic demonstration [broken link] of one of those fundamental truths about nude photography that we so easily take for granted: the fact that pictures of naked people (and professional non-nudes, as well) are posed for maximum aesthetic effect, and that they do not represent reality (at least not the full spectrum of reality).
"I just feel called to point out that a body that looks so 'sexy' or 'slender' or 'desirable' in one picture, can look squishy, vulnerable and saggy in the next just by letting go of a pose."
I think this probably contributes to a lot of body image disorders, as a lot of people compare themselves to the perfectly toned and styled (and frequently photoshopped) images of celebrities and supermodels in popular media, and have no hope of matching up. I think this is also one of those social ills that nudism can cure, because being surrounded by real naked bodies in everyday situations gives you a more realistic idea of what people's naked bodies are supposed to look like. If tabloid photos are any indication, even celebrities and supermodels don't look like Greek statues 24/7!
So in the spirit of baretobush's revelation concerning this truth about beauty, I present to you two pictures of me taken only days apart. The first one is carefully posed with my back stretched out and my tummy sucked in, in order to accentuate my body in the best way possible - as I have learned to do from years of modeling - and the second one is me fully relaxed, even slouched a little bit, after a delicious meal at my favorite Mexican restaurant. It may be hard to believe that these two pictures are of the same person within a very narrow frame of time (less than a week), but that's all part of the flexibility of the human body.
[description: two nude selfies alternately displaying a trim body, and a bulging belly]
Sometimes when I look at photos I take of myself, I am genuinely surprised at how good I look. It's not that I don't realize how attractive I am - years of feedback from my modeling has ensured that - but I'm not the most attractive person on the planet, either - I'm somewhere in the middle. Which is to say that I may not be a supermodel, but I do have some features that I can be proud to flaunt. But there is an immediacy to every person that you can't always capture in a photograph; and in real life, the good angles come along with the bad ones.
I shoot the good angles because I'm an artist primarily concerned with aesthetics. But I have enough of an interest in truth not to try to pretend that what you see in my photographs is the whole story. I find it amusing to consider how my audience must imagine me, always seeing [mostly] my best angles. They probably have an inflated sense of my attractiveness, much like the girl you meet on a dating website who looks a lot younger and skinnier and prettier in the pictures on her profile than she does in person.
That's just human nature - I'm not knocking it. I participate in it enthusiastically, of course. But if any of my fans think I'm the sort of physical god who never has to worry about how I look in a swimsuit (for example), they'd be wrong. I still think it's amusing that I overheard one guy at Burning Man say after looking at me, "some people just don't look good naked". You know - when other people have told me that I look so good naked, that it's a crime for society to force me to wear clothes.
Obviously, taste needs to be accounted for. But I do wish I was the super hot hunk in the first picture 24/7, and not only when I'm specifically posing myself in a certain, unnatural way. If I looked like this all the time, then all the girls would be turning their heads at the pool, and I wouldn't have to be self-conscious about those few extra pounds that round me out a little more than I would like. But at the same time, my nudist background insists that it's not all about how you look, it's about how you feel.
I want to look hot in that bikini, yes - I don't want to embarrass myself. But that's mostly society whispering in my ear. In truth, I want to wear that bikini because it feels great to wear it, even if I'm not a size zero. I saw a girl at the park the other day wearing short shorts and a rolled up shirt (it was fricking hot out), and I don't know how to say this without sounding insensitive, but she had fat rolls hanging out all over the place. Most people would criticize her for her appearance, but you know what? I admire her. She genuinely seemed to be having a good time, and was unselfconscious about her appearance, and that fucking rocks.
Society tells you to dress for the body you have, not the body you want, but I think you should wear whatever the hell you want to. My roommate asks me why I keep buying mini-dresses with tight skirts if I can't wear them (because they emphasize my bulge), and the answer is because I think they're sexy and I want to live in a world where I can wear them and not worry about always passing, and having to pass up on certain types of clothing just because I don't have the body I wish I was born with.
I think that we're probably evolutionarily adapted to want to be attractive to the opposite sex (or whomever it is we're attracted to), but physical beauty is not the end-all be-all of attraction, and besides, that's not all there is to life. Every guy likes looking at supermodels, but not every girl has to be a supermodel. And the girls who aren't supermodels shouldn't have to measure themselves against supermodel standards. Admire the girl with the hot ass in short shorts, but if a girl with an ass you don't think is hot wears short shorts, then just leave her be.
She doesn't have to cover herself up in a burqa and internalize a sense of body shame just because she doesn't live up to your (arbitrary) standards of physical beauty. Maybe it's just human nature to cut everyone else down, but I get annoyed at the thought of anybody criticizing and shaming somebody else for being confident and comfortable in their own skin. That's the kind of shit that encourages people to be miserable just because they don't live up to impossible standards of perfection.
Well, I prefer the nudist ethos that reassures us that we can all be comfortable in our own skins, and that we are all capable of treating each other with dignity and respect, regardless of the way our bodies look. That doesn't mean we have to pretend that beauty isn't important, or valuable, and it doesn't mean that we're not allowed to celebrate or strive for it. But beauty is an ideal, not a requirement for living a full and fun life. So if you can be beautiful, go for it. But if not, don't sweat it. The world can still be a beautiful place to live in.
"I just feel called to point out that a body that looks so 'sexy' or 'slender' or 'desirable' in one picture, can look squishy, vulnerable and saggy in the next just by letting go of a pose."
I think this probably contributes to a lot of body image disorders, as a lot of people compare themselves to the perfectly toned and styled (and frequently photoshopped) images of celebrities and supermodels in popular media, and have no hope of matching up. I think this is also one of those social ills that nudism can cure, because being surrounded by real naked bodies in everyday situations gives you a more realistic idea of what people's naked bodies are supposed to look like. If tabloid photos are any indication, even celebrities and supermodels don't look like Greek statues 24/7!
So in the spirit of baretobush's revelation concerning this truth about beauty, I present to you two pictures of me taken only days apart. The first one is carefully posed with my back stretched out and my tummy sucked in, in order to accentuate my body in the best way possible - as I have learned to do from years of modeling - and the second one is me fully relaxed, even slouched a little bit, after a delicious meal at my favorite Mexican restaurant. It may be hard to believe that these two pictures are of the same person within a very narrow frame of time (less than a week), but that's all part of the flexibility of the human body.
[description: two nude selfies alternately displaying a trim body, and a bulging belly]
Sometimes when I look at photos I take of myself, I am genuinely surprised at how good I look. It's not that I don't realize how attractive I am - years of feedback from my modeling has ensured that - but I'm not the most attractive person on the planet, either - I'm somewhere in the middle. Which is to say that I may not be a supermodel, but I do have some features that I can be proud to flaunt. But there is an immediacy to every person that you can't always capture in a photograph; and in real life, the good angles come along with the bad ones.
I shoot the good angles because I'm an artist primarily concerned with aesthetics. But I have enough of an interest in truth not to try to pretend that what you see in my photographs is the whole story. I find it amusing to consider how my audience must imagine me, always seeing [mostly] my best angles. They probably have an inflated sense of my attractiveness, much like the girl you meet on a dating website who looks a lot younger and skinnier and prettier in the pictures on her profile than she does in person.
That's just human nature - I'm not knocking it. I participate in it enthusiastically, of course. But if any of my fans think I'm the sort of physical god who never has to worry about how I look in a swimsuit (for example), they'd be wrong. I still think it's amusing that I overheard one guy at Burning Man say after looking at me, "some people just don't look good naked". You know - when other people have told me that I look so good naked, that it's a crime for society to force me to wear clothes.
Obviously, taste needs to be accounted for. But I do wish I was the super hot hunk in the first picture 24/7, and not only when I'm specifically posing myself in a certain, unnatural way. If I looked like this all the time, then all the girls would be turning their heads at the pool, and I wouldn't have to be self-conscious about those few extra pounds that round me out a little more than I would like. But at the same time, my nudist background insists that it's not all about how you look, it's about how you feel.
I want to look hot in that bikini, yes - I don't want to embarrass myself. But that's mostly society whispering in my ear. In truth, I want to wear that bikini because it feels great to wear it, even if I'm not a size zero. I saw a girl at the park the other day wearing short shorts and a rolled up shirt (it was fricking hot out), and I don't know how to say this without sounding insensitive, but she had fat rolls hanging out all over the place. Most people would criticize her for her appearance, but you know what? I admire her. She genuinely seemed to be having a good time, and was unselfconscious about her appearance, and that fucking rocks.
Society tells you to dress for the body you have, not the body you want, but I think you should wear whatever the hell you want to. My roommate asks me why I keep buying mini-dresses with tight skirts if I can't wear them (because they emphasize my bulge), and the answer is because I think they're sexy and I want to live in a world where I can wear them and not worry about always passing, and having to pass up on certain types of clothing just because I don't have the body I wish I was born with.
I think that we're probably evolutionarily adapted to want to be attractive to the opposite sex (or whomever it is we're attracted to), but physical beauty is not the end-all be-all of attraction, and besides, that's not all there is to life. Every guy likes looking at supermodels, but not every girl has to be a supermodel. And the girls who aren't supermodels shouldn't have to measure themselves against supermodel standards. Admire the girl with the hot ass in short shorts, but if a girl with an ass you don't think is hot wears short shorts, then just leave her be.
She doesn't have to cover herself up in a burqa and internalize a sense of body shame just because she doesn't live up to your (arbitrary) standards of physical beauty. Maybe it's just human nature to cut everyone else down, but I get annoyed at the thought of anybody criticizing and shaming somebody else for being confident and comfortable in their own skin. That's the kind of shit that encourages people to be miserable just because they don't live up to impossible standards of perfection.
Well, I prefer the nudist ethos that reassures us that we can all be comfortable in our own skins, and that we are all capable of treating each other with dignity and respect, regardless of the way our bodies look. That doesn't mean we have to pretend that beauty isn't important, or valuable, and it doesn't mean that we're not allowed to celebrate or strive for it. But beauty is an ideal, not a requirement for living a full and fun life. So if you can be beautiful, go for it. But if not, don't sweat it. The world can still be a beautiful place to live in.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Post-Memorial Day 2015
Memorial Day marks the opening of the season at my favorite nudist resort, and I've gotten into the habit of documenting my tan (or more likely sunburn) after indulging in some outdoor nude recreation every summer.
It's always hard re-adjusting to everyday life after a weekend in paradise. The sun, water, physical activity, friendly people, and all the naked bodies are just fantastic to surround yourself with.
"Beautiful as all that lay around her was, she knew of something yet more beautiful; and from the remembrance of this, a faint regret attuned her nature to soft melancholy."
- The Elves, by Ludwig Tieck
I find it ironic that I can view a nudist resort as something akin to a true paradise on earth, when many non-nudists presume that it's a gross conglomerate of ugly bodies jiggling around. How can something be viewed as ugly from without, yet so beautiful from within? In fact, I find that it bears a striking resemblance to classical legends of faerie or elven villages. They're hidden away in secret pockets of untamed wilderness, and you need to be initiated to get in or even find the place. All the uninitiated can see is tangled weeds and ugly bodies, but once you go inside, it casts its spell on you, and the enchantment changes you. When you inevitably have to leave, you find that the outside world isn't as beautiful as it was before, compared to the beauty you've been exposed to on the inside, and all you want to do is go back again someday - soon.
How can a campground filled with - statistically speaking - predominantly old, naked men be viewed as paradise? It's a subtle effect. I don't find old, saggy bodies appealing to look at, but that isn't really the point. Exposure to those bodies surprisingly desensitizes you to them - and I say this as someone who would throw fits as a child when my brother insisted on coming to the dinner table without a shirt on. When everybody is clothed, the sight of naked flesh is jarring - even I will admit that. But when everyone is nude, you find that it genuinely doesn't matter. I am consistently struck by the demonstration of how unremarkable the sight of naked flesh can be, when it is the norm and not the exception.
Sometimes in the evenings, when it gets cool, and half the people are all or partly dressed, and you can almost forget that you're in a nudist resort, until a woman goes walking through the crowd topless, or a man with just a shirt on, or somebody completely nude, you can't help thinking how much of a non-issue it is that somebody's skin is showing, when back in the textile world lawyers have to spend years in court fighting a half-million dollar fine for a split second flash of nipple. It's insane! I'm all for people being able to live their lives the way they want to, and I recognize the fact that a nudist lifestyle is truly not for everyone, but I still firmly believe that every man, woman, and child should be forcibly exposed to nudist recreation or public nudity just to make them get over their asinine, adolescent obsession with naked bodies. Whether they want to or not.
Still, what's the appeal of hanging out with mostly old, naked men? In the first place, people at nudist resorts are incredibly friendly. I have social anxiety, and even I am able to easily make friends. They also tend to lean towards liberalism for obvious reasons. This may be a negative if you're a conservative, but I find that these people are a lot more tolerant and accepting and progressive and evolved. Life is for living and having a good time, not petty conflicts and arguments - in the words of a popular phrase: life's short, party naked!
After all, the essence of nudism is really not about seeing people's naked bodies, but the joy and freedom one feels from shedding one's clothes and experiencing life and nature in the buff. Maybe this is not something everyone can properly appreciate (see: nudism is not for everyone), and there may be thorny issues involved in whether the excitement from being nude comes from a similar place as that which motivates exhibitionists (I've considered, at length, the similarities and differences - and there are both - between nudism and exhibitionism multiple times in the past), but the end result is that no, it's not about having sex orgies, but yes, it feels great, and it's incredibly life-affirming!
However, for me to say that nudism has nothing to do with seeing naked bodies would be disingenuous. I can't speak to other people's motivations for being nudists, but I am an aesthetic artist and a nude photographer. Although photography is unfortunately verboten at nudist resorts in the U.S. as far as I know, I can still appreciate the sights with my eyes alone. And while the statistical majority of nudists' bodies are not magazine cover-worthy, the thing that the average textile misses is that normalizing yourself to the sight of traditionally "unsightly" bodies is a small price to pay for a view of the few bodies worth seeing in the nude. And while there is a whole industry dedicated to bringing pictures of naked bodies to consumers, seeing them in person is a lot more rewarding, especially when they're involved in physical activity - this, I've been telling you, is what inspired the Greeks to make so many fantastic statues!
On top of that, nudists don't discriminate, so you're likely to also see some beautiful bodies that the professional industry doesn't consider or permit us to view as being attractive. Although, it's sad that these bodies are not better represented, and that even in an environment where body acceptance is pervasive, young men and especially women in the physical prime of their youth are still not infrequently motivated to feel self-conscious about their bodies. It's telling that beauty rejects can find solace in nudism, but that the beautiful among us must remain ever anxious. I would dedicate my life to righting this wrong if I knew how to fix it - but I feel that the full brunt of the weight of the entire rest of society is pressing against me on this matter...
[description: nude portrait from front and back, with long braid, sunglasses, and flip flops]
Imagine me playing volleyball in the sun with other naked people.
Imagine me playing volleyball in the sun with other naked people.
It's always hard re-adjusting to everyday life after a weekend in paradise. The sun, water, physical activity, friendly people, and all the naked bodies are just fantastic to surround yourself with.
"Beautiful as all that lay around her was, she knew of something yet more beautiful; and from the remembrance of this, a faint regret attuned her nature to soft melancholy."
- The Elves, by Ludwig Tieck
I find it ironic that I can view a nudist resort as something akin to a true paradise on earth, when many non-nudists presume that it's a gross conglomerate of ugly bodies jiggling around. How can something be viewed as ugly from without, yet so beautiful from within? In fact, I find that it bears a striking resemblance to classical legends of faerie or elven villages. They're hidden away in secret pockets of untamed wilderness, and you need to be initiated to get in or even find the place. All the uninitiated can see is tangled weeds and ugly bodies, but once you go inside, it casts its spell on you, and the enchantment changes you. When you inevitably have to leave, you find that the outside world isn't as beautiful as it was before, compared to the beauty you've been exposed to on the inside, and all you want to do is go back again someday - soon.
How can a campground filled with - statistically speaking - predominantly old, naked men be viewed as paradise? It's a subtle effect. I don't find old, saggy bodies appealing to look at, but that isn't really the point. Exposure to those bodies surprisingly desensitizes you to them - and I say this as someone who would throw fits as a child when my brother insisted on coming to the dinner table without a shirt on. When everybody is clothed, the sight of naked flesh is jarring - even I will admit that. But when everyone is nude, you find that it genuinely doesn't matter. I am consistently struck by the demonstration of how unremarkable the sight of naked flesh can be, when it is the norm and not the exception.
Sometimes in the evenings, when it gets cool, and half the people are all or partly dressed, and you can almost forget that you're in a nudist resort, until a woman goes walking through the crowd topless, or a man with just a shirt on, or somebody completely nude, you can't help thinking how much of a non-issue it is that somebody's skin is showing, when back in the textile world lawyers have to spend years in court fighting a half-million dollar fine for a split second flash of nipple. It's insane! I'm all for people being able to live their lives the way they want to, and I recognize the fact that a nudist lifestyle is truly not for everyone, but I still firmly believe that every man, woman, and child should be forcibly exposed to nudist recreation or public nudity just to make them get over their asinine, adolescent obsession with naked bodies. Whether they want to or not.
Still, what's the appeal of hanging out with mostly old, naked men? In the first place, people at nudist resorts are incredibly friendly. I have social anxiety, and even I am able to easily make friends. They also tend to lean towards liberalism for obvious reasons. This may be a negative if you're a conservative, but I find that these people are a lot more tolerant and accepting and progressive and evolved. Life is for living and having a good time, not petty conflicts and arguments - in the words of a popular phrase: life's short, party naked!
After all, the essence of nudism is really not about seeing people's naked bodies, but the joy and freedom one feels from shedding one's clothes and experiencing life and nature in the buff. Maybe this is not something everyone can properly appreciate (see: nudism is not for everyone), and there may be thorny issues involved in whether the excitement from being nude comes from a similar place as that which motivates exhibitionists (I've considered, at length, the similarities and differences - and there are both - between nudism and exhibitionism multiple times in the past), but the end result is that no, it's not about having sex orgies, but yes, it feels great, and it's incredibly life-affirming!
However, for me to say that nudism has nothing to do with seeing naked bodies would be disingenuous. I can't speak to other people's motivations for being nudists, but I am an aesthetic artist and a nude photographer. Although photography is unfortunately verboten at nudist resorts in the U.S. as far as I know, I can still appreciate the sights with my eyes alone. And while the statistical majority of nudists' bodies are not magazine cover-worthy, the thing that the average textile misses is that normalizing yourself to the sight of traditionally "unsightly" bodies is a small price to pay for a view of the few bodies worth seeing in the nude. And while there is a whole industry dedicated to bringing pictures of naked bodies to consumers, seeing them in person is a lot more rewarding, especially when they're involved in physical activity - this, I've been telling you, is what inspired the Greeks to make so many fantastic statues!
On top of that, nudists don't discriminate, so you're likely to also see some beautiful bodies that the professional industry doesn't consider or permit us to view as being attractive. Although, it's sad that these bodies are not better represented, and that even in an environment where body acceptance is pervasive, young men and especially women in the physical prime of their youth are still not infrequently motivated to feel self-conscious about their bodies. It's telling that beauty rejects can find solace in nudism, but that the beautiful among us must remain ever anxious. I would dedicate my life to righting this wrong if I knew how to fix it - but I feel that the full brunt of the weight of the entire rest of society is pressing against me on this matter...
Friday, May 22, 2015
Freehiking
When I go out in nature, I get the urge to take my clothes off. It's not about sex, although it can certainly be thrilling. Does this make me a pervert? Or am I simply a naturist? Being naked in nature seems perfectly... well... natural to me. And perfectly harmless to any potential onlookers, if it weren't for the fact that we make such a big artificial deal about nudity in society. Can't we just drop the taboo already? If my nudity is essentially harmless - healthy, even (for both me and onlookers, since hiding our bodies away encourages shame and disorder) - why must I feel like a criminal for wanting to indulge in this unreasonably marginalized activity?
I'd love to tell you that so-called "freehiking" is a legitimate, protected form of recreation. Indeed, it should be. If not in public parks and on public streets all across the country, then certainly it should be expected in those state or national parks whose emphasis is on natural landscapes rather than man-made landmarks (i.e., forests, rivers, lakes, etc. instead of forts and railroads and such). Alas, there are no such explicit allowances in this country, to my knowledge, and the only places you can get away with it for sure are within the boundaries of isolated private resorts (which are not, necessarily, going to be the first picks in terms of breathtaking natural landscapes).
Everywhere else, you're left to gamble on the chances that you won't get caught, or that if you do, the person who catches you is liberal enough to leave you be. As it is, I don't have any real opportunities for freehiking; I can only create that illusion with some carefully composed pictures, acquired by surreptitious means, in more (or less) remote areas, during (presumably - one can never be entirely certain that there's nobody around the next bend in the trail) quiet lulls in visitor activity. Understandably, and regretfully, my opportunities for taking such photos of natural beauty are woefully limited, and this saddens me.
To paraphrase the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, "Congress shall make no law...prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]." Stripping off my clothes outdoors amidst nature feels, to me, like a spiritual calling. I exist as a tiny kernel in this vast and amazing universe, and the cradle of Earth is my home. Although man is a product of nature, there exists a line between the natural world and the artificial world of man. I am not uncivilized, but the call of the wild serves as a reminder of where I come from. Clothes reflect upon the society of man, and to be truly one with nature, one must be naked like the animals.
I consider this to be a form of holy communion. But because I worship the spirit of nature instead of the Christian God, does this make me a freak, unworthy of honoring my own choice of God? Our country was founded on the principle of freedom, including religious freedom. But the fear of our bodies trumps all other concerns, including liberty and justice. And because we are a democracy, the mental infirmities of the majority are doomed to inform the mandates the rest of us are required to follow...
I'd love to tell you that so-called "freehiking" is a legitimate, protected form of recreation. Indeed, it should be. If not in public parks and on public streets all across the country, then certainly it should be expected in those state or national parks whose emphasis is on natural landscapes rather than man-made landmarks (i.e., forests, rivers, lakes, etc. instead of forts and railroads and such). Alas, there are no such explicit allowances in this country, to my knowledge, and the only places you can get away with it for sure are within the boundaries of isolated private resorts (which are not, necessarily, going to be the first picks in terms of breathtaking natural landscapes).
Everywhere else, you're left to gamble on the chances that you won't get caught, or that if you do, the person who catches you is liberal enough to leave you be. As it is, I don't have any real opportunities for freehiking; I can only create that illusion with some carefully composed pictures, acquired by surreptitious means, in more (or less) remote areas, during (presumably - one can never be entirely certain that there's nobody around the next bend in the trail) quiet lulls in visitor activity. Understandably, and regretfully, my opportunities for taking such photos of natural beauty are woefully limited, and this saddens me.
To paraphrase the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, "Congress shall make no law...prohibiting the free exercise [of religion]." Stripping off my clothes outdoors amidst nature feels, to me, like a spiritual calling. I exist as a tiny kernel in this vast and amazing universe, and the cradle of Earth is my home. Although man is a product of nature, there exists a line between the natural world and the artificial world of man. I am not uncivilized, but the call of the wild serves as a reminder of where I come from. Clothes reflect upon the society of man, and to be truly one with nature, one must be naked like the animals.
I consider this to be a form of holy communion. But because I worship the spirit of nature instead of the Christian God, does this make me a freak, unworthy of honoring my own choice of God? Our country was founded on the principle of freedom, including religious freedom. But the fear of our bodies trumps all other concerns, including liberty and justice. And because we are a democracy, the mental infirmities of the majority are doomed to inform the mandates the rest of us are required to follow...
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Adventures of a Transgender MtF in Hicksville, USA
(I will sidestep the issue of what a sophisticated cosmopolitan like myself is doing in Hicksville, USA. It's a good question, but the answer is beyond the scope of this discussion.)
So I'm walking down the street one spring evening after watching the sunset at a local park. I'm wearing my athletic clothes - the clothes that I picked out for a hike in the woods earlier that day. My outfit consists of a plain white cotton tank top, a pair of tennis shoes designed for jogging, and a breezy pair of shorts that leaves little to the imagination. My hair is done up in a cute but sporty braid. A close look from the front would reveal that I am physically male, but from a distance, or from the back, a person couldn't be blamed for thinking I was a girl.
I chose these clothes for two reasons - 1) because it was hot, and I was going to be exercising, and I like to wear as little clothing as is reasonable, and 2) because I like to wear clothes that make me feel sexy, and my legs are one of my best features. Plus, my butt looks great in these shorts (naturally, I wore them with a thong).
Now, I'm not under any illusion that men aren't going to check me out in an outfit like this. I'm actually in a unique place where I know (better than most, if not all, women) what goes through a man's head when he spots an attractive girl in sexy clothes. I check girls out all the time (although I'm not obnoxious about it), and I always appreciate it when they wear things that are skimpy and sexy in public (summertime at the pool is like eyecandyland, and if country folk are good for one thing, it's a lack of modesty). Ghandi said, "be the change you wish to see in the world", so I generally like to dress the way I like to see other girls dressing.
But there are friendly and unfriendly ways to appreciate another person's look. Take what happened to me the other day, on my walk to the post office. I was wearing even less revealing shorts that day, but I still got some comments from a group of young hillbillies hanging out on the porch in the middle of a weekday. A woman said to me, "hey good-lookin', I like dem shorts yer wearin'." Now, she could have been saying that sarcastically, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and returned a smile as I continued on my way.
But then one of the men standing there had to stick his dick into the conversation (metaphorically speaking). He asked if he could walk with me. I didn't really believe he was being serious, so I silently shook my head and kept walking. The last thing I hear as I move out of earshot is, "I'll take you to the train trestle." Like, honestly, in what universe does shouting at a stranger on the street make them want to fuck you? Especially when I'm the hot piece of ass, and you're the dirty hick who hasn't bathed in days, has a drug habit, and is most likely on welfare? I'll tell you one thing, if you enjoyed the sight of me (even if it was just to make fun of me), shouting at me like that is a surefire way to get me to choose a different return route.
Maybe he thought I was a prostitute. It wouldn't be the first time. I passed a man checking out cars while I was walking beside the edge of a used car lot once, and he said to me, "can I go witchu?" I stared at him with a confused expression on my face, and he gave me a closer look and must have recognized his error (probably not so much that I wasn't a prostitute, but that I had the wrong anatomy for a "hook-up"). He said "never mind," and I went on my way, with another story to tell when I got home.
It could be worse. I don't actually mind being mistaken for a prostitute, even though the prostitutes in this town are bottom rung fare, usually strung out on coke or heroin or, god forbid in this town, meth. It's not so bad when men mistake me for a hot, fuckable chick. It's more dangerous when they realize I'm not. I don't want to minimize the threat of being raped, but I'd rather be on the wrong end of desire than disgust. One time, a truck passed me on the street, and the man in the passenger seat flicked the contents of his tobacco spitoon (a.k.a., re-purposed beer bottle) right at me, ruining a perfectly good white t-shirt. I can't be sure if it was a hate crime (think of the ending to Easy Rider) or simply a demonstration of the antisocial tendencies some of the "hillbilly proud" garbage in this town prides itself on. Either way, nobody wins.
I'm just saying, is it really that horrible an act for a man to dress like a girl? Are girls that inferior, that a man wanting to be one is a piece of trash? I was dolled up one day at Walmart, in celebration of a girl's birthday, and some random guy says in my direction, "git dat dress off, boy!" (Right, am I supposed to do the rest of my shopping in my frilly panties?). Like, do you really think I care about the style opinion of a fat slob in muddy work clothes, whose parents are probably cousins? It's sad enough that this person can't appreciate the beauty of a man in a dress, but he has to insist on eliminating it so that nobody else can enjoy it either? Get over yourself! Anyway, you have to be pretty stupid to feel it necessary to broadcast your own bigotry in public like that.
Which brings us back to the incident I started with. I was walking past the local ice cream parlor in my athletic clothes, and this neanderthal begins to call out from the bustling crowd. He bleats out some generic, testosterone-fueled catcalls, and I try my best to ignore him and calmly get out of sight as quickly as possible. The ice cream parlor is filled with families and their kids, and this guy thinks it's a brilliant idea to draw all the attention onto his raging hormones (and terrible flirtation skills) - and me. I know what it's like when you see a hot girl walking down the street, but have some self-restraint, man. He was really persistent, too. Like, do you really think shouting at me is going to make me want to have anything to do with you?
But the worst part was the end. I don't know if he was disgruntled from me completely brushing him off, or if he took a second glance and noticed that, hey, dude looks like a lady. I can imagine the person he was with, or maybe one of the friendly teenage girls who work at the ice cream parlor and who have seen me in the neighborhood before, tipped him off. But then he shouts at me in an angry voice, "fuckin' faggot!" Like, okay, great. Sure, he has to preserve his manhood because he totally just got a hard-on for a man in short shorts (and, like an idiot, had to make absolutely sure everybody in that crowd knew it). But because of the way I look or the way I dress - which, if you trace it back, is probably due to a nonstandard combination of genetics (i.e., I was born this way, although it took me a long time to figure it out) - I deserve to be the target of angry hate speech? Real nice, dude. Real nice.
So, I'm subjected to both catcalls and gay bashing, and I'm neither a woman, nor gay. It doesn't inspire much faith in humanity. And these are the kind of people who are breeding like rabbits (Ã la Idiocracy) - having unprotected sex in high school one generation after the next, too stupid to plan ahead or think of the consequences (tell me, how is it that people like this are actually getting laid?). I think it's the people who are smart enough not to procreate that should seed the next generation, but I guess evolution will open its legs for just anybody...
So I'm walking down the street one spring evening after watching the sunset at a local park. I'm wearing my athletic clothes - the clothes that I picked out for a hike in the woods earlier that day. My outfit consists of a plain white cotton tank top, a pair of tennis shoes designed for jogging, and a breezy pair of shorts that leaves little to the imagination. My hair is done up in a cute but sporty braid. A close look from the front would reveal that I am physically male, but from a distance, or from the back, a person couldn't be blamed for thinking I was a girl.
I chose these clothes for two reasons - 1) because it was hot, and I was going to be exercising, and I like to wear as little clothing as is reasonable, and 2) because I like to wear clothes that make me feel sexy, and my legs are one of my best features. Plus, my butt looks great in these shorts (naturally, I wore them with a thong).
Now, I'm not under any illusion that men aren't going to check me out in an outfit like this. I'm actually in a unique place where I know (better than most, if not all, women) what goes through a man's head when he spots an attractive girl in sexy clothes. I check girls out all the time (although I'm not obnoxious about it), and I always appreciate it when they wear things that are skimpy and sexy in public (summertime at the pool is like eyecandyland, and if country folk are good for one thing, it's a lack of modesty). Ghandi said, "be the change you wish to see in the world", so I generally like to dress the way I like to see other girls dressing.
But there are friendly and unfriendly ways to appreciate another person's look. Take what happened to me the other day, on my walk to the post office. I was wearing even less revealing shorts that day, but I still got some comments from a group of young hillbillies hanging out on the porch in the middle of a weekday. A woman said to me, "hey good-lookin', I like dem shorts yer wearin'." Now, she could have been saying that sarcastically, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and returned a smile as I continued on my way.
But then one of the men standing there had to stick his dick into the conversation (metaphorically speaking). He asked if he could walk with me. I didn't really believe he was being serious, so I silently shook my head and kept walking. The last thing I hear as I move out of earshot is, "I'll take you to the train trestle." Like, honestly, in what universe does shouting at a stranger on the street make them want to fuck you? Especially when I'm the hot piece of ass, and you're the dirty hick who hasn't bathed in days, has a drug habit, and is most likely on welfare? I'll tell you one thing, if you enjoyed the sight of me (even if it was just to make fun of me), shouting at me like that is a surefire way to get me to choose a different return route.
Maybe he thought I was a prostitute. It wouldn't be the first time. I passed a man checking out cars while I was walking beside the edge of a used car lot once, and he said to me, "can I go witchu?" I stared at him with a confused expression on my face, and he gave me a closer look and must have recognized his error (probably not so much that I wasn't a prostitute, but that I had the wrong anatomy for a "hook-up"). He said "never mind," and I went on my way, with another story to tell when I got home.
It could be worse. I don't actually mind being mistaken for a prostitute, even though the prostitutes in this town are bottom rung fare, usually strung out on coke or heroin or, god forbid in this town, meth. It's not so bad when men mistake me for a hot, fuckable chick. It's more dangerous when they realize I'm not. I don't want to minimize the threat of being raped, but I'd rather be on the wrong end of desire than disgust. One time, a truck passed me on the street, and the man in the passenger seat flicked the contents of his tobacco spitoon (a.k.a., re-purposed beer bottle) right at me, ruining a perfectly good white t-shirt. I can't be sure if it was a hate crime (think of the ending to Easy Rider) or simply a demonstration of the antisocial tendencies some of the "hillbilly proud" garbage in this town prides itself on. Either way, nobody wins.
I'm just saying, is it really that horrible an act for a man to dress like a girl? Are girls that inferior, that a man wanting to be one is a piece of trash? I was dolled up one day at Walmart, in celebration of a girl's birthday, and some random guy says in my direction, "git dat dress off, boy!" (Right, am I supposed to do the rest of my shopping in my frilly panties?). Like, do you really think I care about the style opinion of a fat slob in muddy work clothes, whose parents are probably cousins? It's sad enough that this person can't appreciate the beauty of a man in a dress, but he has to insist on eliminating it so that nobody else can enjoy it either? Get over yourself! Anyway, you have to be pretty stupid to feel it necessary to broadcast your own bigotry in public like that.
Which brings us back to the incident I started with. I was walking past the local ice cream parlor in my athletic clothes, and this neanderthal begins to call out from the bustling crowd. He bleats out some generic, testosterone-fueled catcalls, and I try my best to ignore him and calmly get out of sight as quickly as possible. The ice cream parlor is filled with families and their kids, and this guy thinks it's a brilliant idea to draw all the attention onto his raging hormones (and terrible flirtation skills) - and me. I know what it's like when you see a hot girl walking down the street, but have some self-restraint, man. He was really persistent, too. Like, do you really think shouting at me is going to make me want to have anything to do with you?
But the worst part was the end. I don't know if he was disgruntled from me completely brushing him off, or if he took a second glance and noticed that, hey, dude looks like a lady. I can imagine the person he was with, or maybe one of the friendly teenage girls who work at the ice cream parlor and who have seen me in the neighborhood before, tipped him off. But then he shouts at me in an angry voice, "fuckin' faggot!" Like, okay, great. Sure, he has to preserve his manhood because he totally just got a hard-on for a man in short shorts (and, like an idiot, had to make absolutely sure everybody in that crowd knew it). But because of the way I look or the way I dress - which, if you trace it back, is probably due to a nonstandard combination of genetics (i.e., I was born this way, although it took me a long time to figure it out) - I deserve to be the target of angry hate speech? Real nice, dude. Real nice.
So, I'm subjected to both catcalls and gay bashing, and I'm neither a woman, nor gay. It doesn't inspire much faith in humanity. And these are the kind of people who are breeding like rabbits (Ã la Idiocracy) - having unprotected sex in high school one generation after the next, too stupid to plan ahead or think of the consequences (tell me, how is it that people like this are actually getting laid?). I think it's the people who are smart enough not to procreate that should seed the next generation, but I guess evolution will open its legs for just anybody...
Thursday, May 14, 2015
White Water
I recently visited a state park I'd never been to before, and had an opportunity to take a quick, impromptu photoshoot in front of an impressive series of waterfalls. As a naturist and a photographer, few things excite me more than the opportunity to shoot nudes against stunning natural backdrops. Unfortunately, this isn't always an easy thing to do on account of society's irrational taboo on nudity. These photos give the illusion of being able to simply wander the park in the buff, but the reality is not so pleasant. If you ask me, all state and national parks in this country should be clothing optional as a rule (explicitly indicated), so that nature's beauty can be enjoyed the way it was intended - in the buff.
[description: portrait of a nude man standing on the edge of a rock adjacent to a raging waterfall]
Instead, unlike the hiker or the fisher or the tourist, I have to go about my business in a surreptitious sort of way, feeling all the while like a criminal trying to get away with something. Is art photography that onerous that it warrants such caution? Are the results not beautiful enough to offset the possibility that some unsuspecting passerby might get a glimpse (shock, horror!) of a naked human being? And why must my serious artistic intentions be lumped in with the drunken revelers who expose themselves without thinking about the consequences? Surely, taking my clothes off for a few pictures here and there does less damage than the party-goers who leave crushed beer cans behind littering the natural landscape...
[description: nude portrait, from the back, of a man standing in front of a raging waterfall]
As it is, the care I am obliged to exercise limits when and where I can take these sorts of pictures, and reduces the amount of time and concentration I can spend composing and then posing for a good shot. You could consider this part of the challenge of outdoor nude photography - to see what you can accomplish under the restrictions - but frankly, I'd prefer less anxiety about getting caught, and I can't help thinking about all the shots I've had to miss - not for lack of opportunity, but due to unreasonable social conventions. In the image below, for example, I wanted to pose standing on the rock at the right edge of the frame, but it was a little too exposed, so I had to satisfy myself with a simple landscape, rather than a portrait.
[description: landscape photo of a raging river with turquoise water and a rocky, tree-lined bank]
It's also kind of frustrating to me that, as a self-portrait artist, I can't actually act as the photographer when taking these pictures. I didn't have my tripod with me (and I'm not sure I'd have had the time to set it up even if I did), so I had to coax the friend I was with into helping me out, and - by her own admission - she doesn't have the talent or the experience (or the inclination, I would add) as a photographer that I have. To her credit, though, it was her impetus and inspiration that led to the following series of images. I've seen countless shots of female models climbing nude on tree branches in the past, and I was very excited to have the opportunity to be that model for once. It's just too bad the shoot had to be so rushed.
[description: series of nude portraits climbing on a tree limb beside a rocky riverbank]
Internet fandom aside, sometimes I feel very alone as a nude/erotic photographer. I wish I were part of some organized group. I feel like I'm out on the fringe, making things up as I go along. I know there are other people out there who do what I do - I've seen the results online. I just wish there was more of a sense of camaraderie between us. It amazes me that I'm not able to find even a single other person interested in this kind of modeling, though it doesn't help that due to the stigma of what I do, I don't feel comfortable mentioning it to everyone I meet. I know there are girls out there who are into posing nude for serious photographers. Why can't I find them?
[description: portrait of a nude man standing on the edge of a rock adjacent to a raging waterfall]
Instead, unlike the hiker or the fisher or the tourist, I have to go about my business in a surreptitious sort of way, feeling all the while like a criminal trying to get away with something. Is art photography that onerous that it warrants such caution? Are the results not beautiful enough to offset the possibility that some unsuspecting passerby might get a glimpse (shock, horror!) of a naked human being? And why must my serious artistic intentions be lumped in with the drunken revelers who expose themselves without thinking about the consequences? Surely, taking my clothes off for a few pictures here and there does less damage than the party-goers who leave crushed beer cans behind littering the natural landscape...
[description: nude portrait, from the back, of a man standing in front of a raging waterfall]
As it is, the care I am obliged to exercise limits when and where I can take these sorts of pictures, and reduces the amount of time and concentration I can spend composing and then posing for a good shot. You could consider this part of the challenge of outdoor nude photography - to see what you can accomplish under the restrictions - but frankly, I'd prefer less anxiety about getting caught, and I can't help thinking about all the shots I've had to miss - not for lack of opportunity, but due to unreasonable social conventions. In the image below, for example, I wanted to pose standing on the rock at the right edge of the frame, but it was a little too exposed, so I had to satisfy myself with a simple landscape, rather than a portrait.
[description: landscape photo of a raging river with turquoise water and a rocky, tree-lined bank]
It's also kind of frustrating to me that, as a self-portrait artist, I can't actually act as the photographer when taking these pictures. I didn't have my tripod with me (and I'm not sure I'd have had the time to set it up even if I did), so I had to coax the friend I was with into helping me out, and - by her own admission - she doesn't have the talent or the experience (or the inclination, I would add) as a photographer that I have. To her credit, though, it was her impetus and inspiration that led to the following series of images. I've seen countless shots of female models climbing nude on tree branches in the past, and I was very excited to have the opportunity to be that model for once. It's just too bad the shoot had to be so rushed.
[description: series of nude portraits climbing on a tree limb beside a rocky riverbank]
Internet fandom aside, sometimes I feel very alone as a nude/erotic photographer. I wish I were part of some organized group. I feel like I'm out on the fringe, making things up as I go along. I know there are other people out there who do what I do - I've seen the results online. I just wish there was more of a sense of camaraderie between us. It amazes me that I'm not able to find even a single other person interested in this kind of modeling, though it doesn't help that due to the stigma of what I do, I don't feel comfortable mentioning it to everyone I meet. I know there are girls out there who are into posing nude for serious photographers. Why can't I find them?
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Outfit of the Day (#ootd)
[description: fashion selfie in a t-shirt and short shorts with flip flops]
I apologize if some of my outfits are repetitive - I am, after all, a creature of habit, and I have to balance my interest in clothes with the fact that I am a nudist, and I prefer not to spend an hour getting dressed. I like wearing dresses and skirts and things like that, but my easy, go-to outfit is a pair of shorts (I have a few; this one is my current favorite), a cute t-shirt, and one of my many pairs of flip flops. Interestingly, that's not very different, structurally, from my dressing habits when I presented as male (shorts/pants + t-shirt + tennis shoes), but it's amazing the difference that simply picking girly styles (tighter, shorter, cuter, skimpier) can make!
I apologize if some of my outfits are repetitive - I am, after all, a creature of habit, and I have to balance my interest in clothes with the fact that I am a nudist, and I prefer not to spend an hour getting dressed. I like wearing dresses and skirts and things like that, but my easy, go-to outfit is a pair of shorts (I have a few; this one is my current favorite), a cute t-shirt, and one of my many pairs of flip flops. Interestingly, that's not very different, structurally, from my dressing habits when I presented as male (shorts/pants + t-shirt + tennis shoes), but it's amazing the difference that simply picking girly styles (tighter, shorter, cuter, skimpier) can make!
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Outfit of the Day (#ootd)
You know it's summer (or close enough) when I pull out my pink pool coverup/dress. Shoppers were given a rare treat when I wore it with my hair down to the store yesterday.
[description: triptych of fashion selfies in a pink minidress with flowing hair]
Everyone's been in that position where you start making dinner only to find out that you don't have a key ingredient you thought you had. Luckily, we have a store just down the block from our apartment building, so I threw on this dress to go pick up some spaghetti sauce. I had recently gotten out of the shower, and my hair was still slightly damp, but since it was a scorcher of a day, with temperatures breaking 90 degrees, I decided to leave it as is and let the sun finish drying it out on my walk to the store.
I don't actually let my hair down very often. I'd like to, since it's so pretty, but I just don't find it to be very practical. It doesn't stay perfectly in place - it's always going everywhere and getting in the way. And while it looks great just out of the shower, after a while it tends to get a little strung out; it just makes more sense to keep it contained in a braid or [usually] a ponytail (at least both of those options still look cute!). But as I said, it was a rare treat for those shoppers who got a glimpse of me in total supermodel mode, in my hot pink minidress. -_^
[description: triptych of fashion selfies in a pink minidress with flowing hair]
Everyone's been in that position where you start making dinner only to find out that you don't have a key ingredient you thought you had. Luckily, we have a store just down the block from our apartment building, so I threw on this dress to go pick up some spaghetti sauce. I had recently gotten out of the shower, and my hair was still slightly damp, but since it was a scorcher of a day, with temperatures breaking 90 degrees, I decided to leave it as is and let the sun finish drying it out on my walk to the store.
I don't actually let my hair down very often. I'd like to, since it's so pretty, but I just don't find it to be very practical. It doesn't stay perfectly in place - it's always going everywhere and getting in the way. And while it looks great just out of the shower, after a while it tends to get a little strung out; it just makes more sense to keep it contained in a braid or [usually] a ponytail (at least both of those options still look cute!). But as I said, it was a rare treat for those shoppers who got a glimpse of me in total supermodel mode, in my hot pink minidress. -_^
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Sexual Gratification and Her Pictures
I've spent a lot of time over the years on photo-sharing websites. I tend to seek out pretty models. And more often than not, they are of the perspective that there's something despicable about anyone using their images for sexual purposes. Here, for a change, is a woman who espouses the sex-positive view that I've taken, that there is nothing wrong or disturbing about somebody having a sexual response to an image you've taken and shared with the world:
Sexual Gratification and My Pictures [broken link]
"Once I give my creation to the world I relinquish my control and regardless of my purpose or intent, your interpretation is yours and yours alone."
Sexual Gratification and My Pictures [broken link]
"Once I give my creation to the world I relinquish my control and regardless of my purpose or intent, your interpretation is yours and yours alone."
Sunday, May 3, 2015
If a man strips in the woods...
Here's a philosophical question for you:
If a man strips in the woods, and nobody is around to see it, is it public indecency?
[description: portrait of a nude man in the woods, with a pile of clothes on the ground]
Classically, this question is moot, since if nobody sees it, then there's nobody to report it. But in this day and age of photographic evidence (oops!), when it's a trivial matter to hide cameras in trees (are we paranoid yet?), it makes you wonder.
I don't believe public "exposure" is that harmful in the first place, and I think some people have a valid desire to be nude among nature - and they don't always have ready access to the proper nudist facilities to do so.
So my approach has always been, if a person takes reasonable precautions to avoid being caught - thus proving that they're not simply pests trying to shock unsuspecting passersby - then it should be considered "no harm no foul". As outliers in the social construct, they deserve at least a little bit of leeway to pursue happiness in their own quirky but altogether harmless way.
And I really believe that. But mainstream opinion is not so tolerant, and this causes me a lot of anxiety - I feel like a fugitive criminal when I engage in these kinds of behaviors. People commit minor crimes on a daily basis (e.g., littering, jaywalking, speeding) and it's no big deal, even if you get caught. But those kinds of things don't have the same stigma as anything that involves nudity or - heaven forbid - sexual stimulation.
[description: portrait of a nude man in the woods, stroking an erection]
Oh noes!!!!!!!111
If a man strips in the woods, and nobody is around to see it, is it public indecency?
[description: portrait of a nude man in the woods, with a pile of clothes on the ground]
Classically, this question is moot, since if nobody sees it, then there's nobody to report it. But in this day and age of photographic evidence (oops!), when it's a trivial matter to hide cameras in trees (are we paranoid yet?), it makes you wonder.
I don't believe public "exposure" is that harmful in the first place, and I think some people have a valid desire to be nude among nature - and they don't always have ready access to the proper nudist facilities to do so.
So my approach has always been, if a person takes reasonable precautions to avoid being caught - thus proving that they're not simply pests trying to shock unsuspecting passersby - then it should be considered "no harm no foul". As outliers in the social construct, they deserve at least a little bit of leeway to pursue happiness in their own quirky but altogether harmless way.
And I really believe that. But mainstream opinion is not so tolerant, and this causes me a lot of anxiety - I feel like a fugitive criminal when I engage in these kinds of behaviors. People commit minor crimes on a daily basis (e.g., littering, jaywalking, speeding) and it's no big deal, even if you get caught. But those kinds of things don't have the same stigma as anything that involves nudity or - heaven forbid - sexual stimulation.
[description: portrait of a nude man in the woods, stroking an erection]
Oh noes!!!!!!!111
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