Rainbow Sequins

It's nice that, among all the women in my family, I have such a reputation that, whenever anybody finds a pretty dress, their immediate thought is to give it to me, because they think I will like it. And they're right!

Which lends credence to my claim that the truest girls anymore are the transgirls, on account of how common it is these days for women to eschew stereotypical feminine stereotypes. You could lament this as a turning away from traditional gender roles, but if we want to maintain our freedom, then we NEED MtF crossdressers for their commitment to preserving the institution of femininity.

This is a funny anecdote, but I was walking out of the store one day with my partner, and some old guy chased after us solely for the reason that he wanted to compliment me on my long hair, telling me that "that's the way women should be." My partner and I just giggled and walked away. I didn't have the heart to tell him. :-x

Timeless

[description: two figures in dated clothes use outdated media, while a nude person reads a book]

Here's an alternate image from an entry to my Why Nudism? series from 2018. I have a funny story to tell about the day I shot this image. I had to move a lot of furniture around to get this corner looking like I wanted it, so the rest of my living room was a mess.

I didn't know it at the time, but a large group of family was playing at the park down at the end of the street. Without any kind of advance warning, they decided to pop in for a hydration break and to use the bathroom. What's worse, they tried the front door before knocking (you gotta love family), and this was the one day out of a hundred that it wasn't locked.

So in they came, right in the middle of my photoshoot! Can you guess which of these outfits I was wearing? Let me just say, they were lucky I was shooting a concept that had a 2/3 chance of me wearing clothes. Because almost any other time, I would have been completely naked when they walked through that door.

But they were none the wiser, and were gone following a quick but rowdy interlude. Afterward, I walked into the bathroom only to be reminded that I had several pairs of girly panties hanging in the shower to dry - which I had hung up that day because I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in the house! What they each thought as they stepped into the bathroom I can only imagine, because nobody mentioned a thing...

Art Fizzle

I don't remember how it started, but last year around this time, when I was depressed and disillusioned following Patreon's really unprofessional and inappropriate handling of me, I started following a group of nude artists on Twitter. "Spaces" (where people connect on Twitter and have audio group chats) were becoming popular, and I became enchanted listening to other people talking about things related to creating nude art that I thought I was the only person in the world who experienced. It didn't even matter that these people were heavy into the NFT scene - which to this day I don't fully understand. It was the first time I'd ever felt connected to a community, and not just a lone, outsider artist. And they accepted me not just as a photographer of nudes, but as an erotic artist as well - something that the nudist community I used to follow never ceased to berate me about.

I was a lurker at first, listening in to conversations others were having - as is my personality. But when they started talking about organizing an artist's retreat, where photographers and models in the nude genre (with a heavy representation of artists specializing in "nudes in nature", which is something I've been focusing on lately) would get to meet and collaborate, I saw it as a unique opportunity for me to finally expand my horizons beyond self-portraiture. But I figured that in order to participate, it would be appropriate to actually be a part of the community, and not just a hanger-on.

So I made an effort - and it embarrasses me to admit how much of an effort this was - to overcome my limitations as a sufferer of crippling social anxiety, and participate in these audio group chats, so that the others could have a chance to get to know me. And it worked, for a while. I can't describe the severity of the physical and mental symptoms I experienced due to the stress and anticipation of joining these conversations. Some days, I just couldn't overcome it. Other days, I got up there and spoke, while shaking uncontrollably from the fear. I want to say that it was a good experience for me. I forced myself well outside my comfort zone. But it was torture. And as time went on, it became apparent that no amount of pushing myself would make up for my fundamental lack of social skills. In the long run, what I was getting out of it wasn't worth the suffering I was putting myself through.

But that's after the carrot was pulled away from me. I did all this with the thought in my mind that it would be worth it, for the opportunity to meet some of these people in person, collaborate with them as artists, and grow and overcome some of my limitations in the process. But as the weeks marched inexorably along, planning for this "artist's retreat" was almost non-existent. There was no sense of urgency or of the importance of making firm decisions in a timely fashion from this deliberately laidback group of artists. And I wasn't in any kind of position to keep them on task - even if I could. So the date came and went, and after sacrificing my own summer vacation that year in order to remain flexible up to the last minute, what was supposed to be a retreat for artists turned into, as far as I can surmise, a private shoot between one of the photographers and one of the models. (I don't disparage them for getting some use out of the time they must have set aside, but where was the consideration for the rest of us?).

Anyway, the whole community kind of fizzled out after that. Spaces died down to a large degree. NFTs are as volatile as they've ever been. The artists are still out there, hawking their art. In fact, a lot of them have Patreon accounts now, which just rubs salt in my wound. I'm disappointed, because it felt like we really had something going for a little while, and now it's all gone. Nothing has changed. And I'm right back where I've always been. Even Twitter itself is losing interest for me - again - this time largely on account of the toxicity of the trans movement. Whenever I support trans issues, the response I get is always a heartbreaking silence. Until I dare to exercise some of my critical thinking skills. Question any aspect of trans dogma, and activists will dogpile you and doubt your allegiances. I suffer more harassment from people who should be my allies than I do from transphobic bigots. Is it too much to ask to be treated with respect, even when you don't blindly follow a script? Haven't I earned it? This is why I don't like aligning myself with any groups. "The individual is the smallest minority." Guess I'll be a loner to the bitter end.

Porn Is Popular

Many of my most enduringly popular images (on photo sharing sites like DeviantArt* [NSFW], or - formerly - Flickr) tend to be the more straightforwardly sexual ones (whether explicit or suggestive) that I've taken. And there seems to be little consideration to how artistic the image is, so that more and less artistic images will be favored - only so long as they're sexual. But images that are less overtly sexual will receive less attention, no matter how artistic they are. It's like my audience is, statistically, feeding a different appetite than the one I'm usually cooking for.

Part of me resents that fact. But I'm not gonna get up on my high horse and shame anyone for it (as I've seen plenty of other artists do). I shoot porn voluntarily because it's fun, and I enjoy that sort of attention. If I didn't, then I would stop. It's just that it's disproportionately popular, compared to the level of importance I put on it as an artist. I'd love to get more attention on my more artistic images (and for their artistic qualities) - which are still often erotic, but less vulgar. Yet, my experience bears out that porn is what predominantly draws the eye.

While I believe that quality trumps quantity - I've never been one to pursue numbers above and beyond value - everybody has to value numbers to a certain point. A few visionaries appreciating my artistry (of which I could always use more) means more to me than the droves of people just following their baser instincts. But the popularity of my work still isn't as high as I'd like it to be. So if creating porn gets me more attention, then why shouldn't I continue to do it? If, on the other hand, creating porn is preventing me from getting a higher caliber of attention - well, I resent that. I want to be respected as an artist, even though I create porn. You don't even have to like porn - it's not the only thing I do. I just want to be respected as a human being, and not tossed aside for one aspect of what I do.

But I have to wonder, if I'd never created any porn, would I even have the attention I get now? And if the attention that porn gets me still isn't enough, then how does anyone get by carving their whole career from safer subjects? Are they just that much better at making art? These are questions that plague me, that I just don't have the answers to. Nobody gave me a guidebook in life. I'm just feeling my way around in the dark. The only thing I have to follow is my internal compass.

*Taking a look back through my DeviantArt gallery, an irony presents itself to me. Regardless of what DeviantArt might want to believe about itself, this is a website that caters to fetishism. Even though they forbid pornography, an atmosphere of sexuality pervades the site, like a Japanese mangaka drawing an octopus. My most popular image, by a considerable margin, is a closeup photo of a penis with a tongue at its tip. If this is a sophisticated art sharing platform, there are an awful lot of people showing up just to look at porn. And I can't even give it to them! It's the pretending that bothers me.

The Intoxication of Mutual Desire

I've written about the "pervasive power of the male sex drive" before, but today I want to talk about something related, but slightly different. I'm taking the usual risks associated with making generalizations, as well as the possibility of contributing to sexist and heteronormative stereotypes. But I believe it will be worth it, in order to examine what I feel is an overlooked aspect of male sexuality.

If it's true, as they say, that women have a "biological clock", compelling them to mate with an eligible bachelor and start having babies (before it's too late), I believe that men have a correlate impulse. But it's a little more rounded (or at least it is in my case) than the single-minded drive to fuck.

I just don't think we give proper weight to how important it is, psychologically, for a man to have positive and meaningful interactions with the type of person he is attracted to. We write men off as being horndogs and womanizers, mindlessly driven by a disgusting appetite - and, unfortunately, a lot of men behave this way out of a deficit of good character traits. But the reality is - at least in my estimation - that relating to attractive women (in the case of the straight man) is of critical value to a man's sense of satisfaction and self-worth.

Yet many men, for a variety of reasons, are unable to achieve this. In a perfect world, I would flirt with pretty girls easily and with regularity, and probably be less miserable for it (and less invested in spending time complaining about my life on the internet). But I have a social handicap that prevents me from being able to do this. I don't feel entitled to anything. My expectations are tempered. I'm not going to take my frustrations out on anyone else, because that would be unfair. I just want to be permitted to admire attractive people in a way that's respectful, without having to pretend that's not what I'm doing, and without shame or unreasonable social or legal barriers, in a culture that celebrates such things, absent the regime of moral judgment and censorship that I'm unfortunately accustomed to.

I've said that I would be happy just to flirt with girls. The truth is, there doesn't even need to be any sex involved. I actually prefer the safety and comfort of monogamy. I just want to have meaningful interactions with attractive people, and know that my company and companionship is appreciated by them. I think that, just like women want to feel physically desired by the men they're attracted to (because this is the way men typically express attraction), men want to feel appreciated and valued by women they find attractive (because this is how women express attraction). Maybe these two things are not that different. Or maybe my experience is atypical. It's been said [NSFW] that "the desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man." Perhaps I'm relating more to the woman's feelings, on account of my unconventional gender identity.

But it isn't enough just to be desired. You must be desired by those for whom you also feel desire. It's sad that I can't get the same feeling of satisfaction from someone who expresses a one-sided attraction to me. Don't get me wrong - I value that attention very much, and it contributes greatly to my self-confidence. But knowing you could have something you don't especially want just doesn't have the power of knowing that if you chose to, you could get something you desire. And therein lies the heart of the universal problem of unreciprocated attraction.

Act of Bot

So, I woke up this morning to a series of email notifications indicating that three of the posts on this very blog have been "flagged for review", and "put behind a warning for readers" because they "contain sensitive content". And I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. I've been posting regularly or semi-regularly (as in the last few years) to this blog since the spring of 2010. That's thirteen years ago. And the very purpose of this blog is to discuss controversial subjects (while sharing my own, at times sexually explicit, photography). The entire blog has been behind a "sensitive content warning" page - voluntarily - since the beginning. Which leaves me with a few questions.

Like, what's the point of putting a sensitive content warning on a post that already has one? Why were these three posts singled out, when this blog contains 13 years of sensitive content? How were they flagged? Am I being punished for advertising my blog more on Twitter, in the form of a larger audience leading to malcontents coming in and complaining about what they see? Or is this yet another case, as is becoming disturbingly common these days, of bots running rampant and creatively interpreting their directives? Were there even any humans involved in this decision at all?

Which leads me to my most important question: will I ever get any answers? The emails don't offer any kind of option to get feedback on this administrative decision. I can't even ask someone, "hey, what's going on? What's this all about?" The most they'll give me is a link back to the post editor where I can request to have those posts re-reviewed. But I don't see how that would accomplish anything. Nobody's going to tell me why these posts were flagged (other than a vague link back to the entirety of their Community Guidelines, so I can play a guessing game), so it's not like I can fix anything. And reviewing them again won't accomplish anything, because we both already agree that they contain sensitive content. That's why I already put a warning on them!

But let's play the guessing game anyway. One of the three posts is about foot fetishism. Like, really? Come on. Another is a discussion of pornography law which broaches the subject of bestiality. Ok, that one's obvious. But it hardly stands out on a blog like this one (I'm surprised they didn't find the post that discusses necrophilia). Moreover, I didn't describe any explicit acts, or even say that I support bestiality. I just wanted to have a discussion that's evidence-based and non-judgmental. Can we not even do that about taboo topics anymore? This is EXACTLY the thing that freedom of speech is supposed to protect. Here's a quote from that very post:

"But if we're more concerned with truth than politics, and wish to be consistent in our beliefs and ideologies, then we must be willing to extend the principles we apply to the popular issues to the unpopular issues also."

And on the subject of thoughtcrime, the third post is one that tries to build a bridge between prudes and perverts, on the subject of having sexual feelings about pictures that weren't designed for that purpose. I really think it's a stretch to define that as "revenge porn", since we're not talking about explicit images, nor are we talking about sharing them.

But again, my blog is filled with discussions of sensitive subjects. And they're already behind a warning filter. Why these three all of a sudden? And what's the point of filtering an already filtered post? I just want to understand how this process works, so that I can work within it most effectively, to the benefit of both myself and the platform. And I'm never gonna know, am I? How does this make any kind of sense? And yet, this kind of Kafkaesque social media bureaucracy is becoming more and more common. Are we going to have to start thinking of algorithms as an unpredictable force of nature, capable of random and senseless acts of digital destruction?

The Heteronormative Sexism of Casual Nudity

In my last post, I talked about a type of culture in between nudism and gymnophobia, that is less neurotic about casual instances of nudity in everyday life, without adopting a "nude for the sake of being nude" approach. And the more I think about it, the more it seems to me that this is indeed a fantasy. Even in the movie that inspired my ruminations, the casual attitude towards nudity seems confined to specific circumstances and among certain company. This isn't so much different than the gymnophobic culture in which I live - casual nudity still occurs, you just rarely see it because it's hidden from general audiences. The appeal of the arthouse film is that the camera takes you where you don't often get to go.

Think about dressing rooms, bath houses, dormitories. Nonsexual, social nudity does occur among textiles sometimes, but it's almost always segregated by sex. Which actually reinforces the sexual connotation of nudity. In a heteronormative framework, two (or more) people of the same sex can see each other naked, only because there's no possibility of sexual attraction. But add somebody of the other sex, and suddenly the whole situation takes on a decidedly more sexual atmosphere. The nudity isn't truly "casual"; it still maintains an air of intimacy (often involving only friends or family).

Sometimes gay people are included in groups of the opposite sex for this reason ("he's gay, so it doesn't matter if he sees me naked"), but otherwise (and especially when closeted), they would seem to be in a unique position to take advantage of this arrangement. But none of this considers the true fluidity of human sexuality. My argument is simply that two people who are attracted to each other should be able to see each other naked and still conduct themselves appropriately (whatever that means in a given situation). Nudism proves that it can be done.

Why, then, are we so uptight? I believe this is an artifact of what is probably a religious-based morality - that even just seeing the other sex nude is a form of carnal knowledge ("whoever looks with lust at a woman has already committed adultery in his heart" - Matthew 5:28), forbidden except under tightly controlled circumstances (such as in the bedroom with your married spouse, only while in the process of procreating, and without excessive pleasure). But whether religion is the true culprit or not, you cannot deny the presence of this moralist strain of sex-negativity in our culture. People do not permit themselves erotic delight without grave consequence.

Often, there is an assumption of lack of self-control. Sight of a naked body will send a person into a sexual frenzy. Or is it more deliberate? Take the mythical "blue ball" effect, that unscrupulous men use to justify sexual coercion. What if it's not that they'll lose control, but that they don't want to experience sexual arousal without feeling entitled to an outlet? So, rather than risk turning somebody on, it's better to cover up. But that attitude disgusts me. It leads to burqas being imposed on women, and it's the antithesis of freedom and pleasure. It's not a bad thing to be exposed to subtle erotic triggers throughout the day, even if you can't have sex with every woman you encounter.

And that's what nudists trip over whenever I bring up the subject of sex-positivity. I appreciate the way nudists are trying to separate nudity from an inherently sexual context. But in life, I think a low level of eroticism is unavoidable in some circumstances. And that's fine. I don't see two extremes - sexually explicit and nonsexual. I see a third option in the middle. We should disengage the assumption of sexual intimacy from every instance of nudity, but without having to profess that there can be nothing erotic about it. And we should learn to embrace those erotic feelings for what they are, without needing to tie them to anything more complicated.

Between Nudism and Gymnophobia

I'm watching a European arthouse film from the '80s. I understand that it's a fantasy, that may or may not reflect the real world to any degree. And I know its approach to nudity is deliberately constructed - it's essentially the main draw of the film. But the casual attitude toward nudity in this fantasy world this film is positing intrigues me.

On one end of the spectrum, you have the sort of gymnophobic culture in which I was raised (and continue to live). In such a culture, exposure to nudity is considered a scandal that must be avoided at all costs - except within the narrow confines of a sexually intimate encounter.

Nudism lies at the opposite end of the spectrum - where the taboo on nudity is demolished, and people freely expose themselves without fanfare (or the assumption of a sexual context) before God and man, in the full light of day, among family and friends, strangers and acquaintances, children and the elderly alike.

In the middle, you have what is depicted in this arthouse film - a permissive but unobsessed culture. People do not go out of their way to embrace nudity, but nor do they rush to cover it up when it occurs naturally - as it will, when you don't have a complex about staying hidden.

Imagine, if you will, various scenarios. You undress for swimming. You roll out of bed in the morning. You've just finished bathing. You're changing your clothes. In a gymnophobic culture, you will swim in a suit, sleep in pajamas, wrap yourself up tightly in a towel, and shut the door before undressing.

Nudists posit an alternate world where everybody is naked pretty much all the time (to the extent that environmental conditions and safety precautions permit). Why so much nudity? It makes sense as a deliberate rejection of gymnophobic conditioning. The substitution of an unhealthy extreme for an equal obsession with its opposite.

What if we lived in the middle, between these two worlds? If seeing people naked was not necessarily a ubiquitous phenomenon, but not an uncommon one either? Where such an experience may still carry the thrill of delight, without being burdened by the weight of taboo?

Imagine a world where people swim, sleep, and bathe naked, and move seamlessly from those activities to others (and between different stages of dress), not overly concerned with the exposure of their bodies to others, but also without eschewing the social function of clothes entirely.

I think this is really what I lament the absence of in the culture I live in. I've no doubt I'd still choose nudity more often than usual for its comfort, as well as its aesthetic appeal. But I don't need to live in a "permanude" society in order to be happy.

It's being a nudist, and yet still having to cover up like a textile whenever there are other people around (in essence, preventing me from ever completely forgetting the neurotic conditioning that was drilled into me) that is so frustrating.

I don't mind being considered an eccentric. But it's the fear of being labeled a pariah - or worse yet, charged as a criminal. Of losing connection with people who appreciate your individuality - until it runs afoul of the nudity taboo.

I want to see other people naked, too. Not in a creepy, voyeuristic way. But because the human body is beautiful, and seeing one dressed minimally in public never fails to make my day. Seeing more of it would only bring that much more sunshine into my life.

And, in this world, the artistic appreciation of nudity - even in a slightly erotic, but not overtly or intimidatingly sexual way - would be so much easier to understand, when it's not being confused for something that is considered decidedly more sinister.

I imagine that's the culture in which arthouse films like this one arose. Unless that's a fabricated part of the fantasy, too. But be it reality or illusion, I long to live in that world, and envy those who have had the fortune to experience it.