Easy Target

I recently started getting emails again from fotocommunity (I'm not going to link them, for reasons that will soon become clear), a photo-sharing website I prospectively joined years ago but never actually used. I like the idea of sharing a gallery of some of my best photos (maybe my coolest clone shots and loveliest landscape nudes) and, you know, perhaps getting some professional recognition. But I visited again just long enough to confirm that in order to share in and even access the nude gallery, you have to pay for a premium membership (I suspect this is why I never used it to begin with - it's just been so long I've forgotten). Which is the reason I finally deleted my account on Flickr, after the most recent changes (a few years back).

Look, I can understand that, as a website dedicated to art, you want to provide some kind of barrier to make sure the people who contribute to the nude community are serious, and the whole thing doesn't just devolve into a den of smut. I get that. I don't even disagree with it! And also, consumption of nudes is big business, so it's a great way to take people's money. But you need to learn how to distinguish collaborators from consumers*. I wouldn't be there just to browse nudes and satisfy my baser urges. I'm a sophisticated nude artist. With not only years, but decades of experience! (Well, 18 years at last count - my photography is old enough to star in porn!).

I would be contributing good quality content - not just photos, but insight and reflection on other people's works. But you're gonna discriminate against me as an artist, because my chosen specialty is nude photography, and treat me like a lousy pervert, making me PAY you to provide valuable content to YOUR website to draw even more subscriptions (from which I'll never see a stinking dime). I'm not a fool. I'm already engaged in effectively unpaid labor. I'm not gonna give away the fruits of those labors for someone to make a profit off of them, while NOT ONLY leaving me out of the loop, but requiring that I cough up money I don't have so THEY can exploit ME. If somebody did that to me without me voluntarily giving them my consent, it would be a clear violation of my rights! So then why would I agree to that?

It makes me so mad. And there isn't a thing I can do about it, but suffer even more by being excluded from the global community of artists who do something similar to what I do. Am I being unreasonable here? Sometimes I wish someone would come along and finally disabuse me of my principled delusions, and show me a better way to live. But I'm just too damn smart. For me to believe someone who contradicts me, they would have to actually outwit me, to convince me they're right. And there are very few people in the world who could do that - and those that could have absolutely no interest in me (and I don't blame them).

*Although such an arrangement could backfire on me, because they would almost certainly overlook the artistic merit in my pictures, and just see someone who doesn't even use a professional camera, and is willing to take pornographic photos (which, I don't know, displays a fundamental "deviance" in my psychology that would be viewed as "legally unsafe", in terms of trusting me not to breach their walls of etiquette; like as if making erotica means you're a degenerate who lacks any ability to read a room and follow the rules of the hosting platform), and see me as a liability or someone to drag down the fine quality of their gallery.

And this is the world you expect me to have hope for? To struggle within, in order to better myself and others? I know life's not fair, and nobody out there is advocating for me but myself. Nor is there a God up in the sky to guide things, and mete out cosmic justice. But all I ask is for somebody to throw a bone my way. To see my potential and give me an opportunity. I'm willing to work for it. I'm just not going to sacrifice my principles and prostitute myself out for it. That should make me MORE qualified for this kind of a position, not less... But capitalism needs spineless wage slaves, not free-thinking innovators.

Machine Bias

I want to express myself creatively - like anybody else could. It just so happens that a subject I'm interested in is the human body. I have a concept that's not even sexual in nature (although I would argue that it shouldn't matter even if it was; but to make my argument even stronger, it's not). But because it involves people in minimal clothing - albeit clothing that is perfectly street legal, and that you can see in real life anywhere people go swimming - my access to the tools everyone else can use is limited. Why? Because of the paranoid fear that somebody somewhere might use their imagination to achieve sexual gratification. (I'm not making this up, it's what ChatGPT told me - I'd share the chatlogs, but I deleted my account in abject frustration). No matter how likely or unlikely that possibility is, or whether it has anything to do with my own artistic intent. As if that would be such a horrible thing, anyway.

And so here I am, artistically frustrated, because I can't express my own voice in society, in creative protest against the way things are, which is the only way I could ever possibly change public sentiment, or at least raise awareness. And this is in spite of the fact that public protest is not only supposed to be a guaranteed civil right, but one of the fundamental values our country was allegedly founded upon. Yes, of course, I can still speak my mind, probably without censure. But my vocabulary is limited, and my access to the same tools of expression others can use is restricted. How is that not discrimination, that unfairly disadvantages me because my beliefs run counter to the accepted mainstream point of view? If you ask me, that sounds unconstitutional. But now more than ever, there is no such thing as justice or even liberty in this country. My efforts are futile. My voice is silenced. And I can do nothing but lick the hand that has put me in chains.

The Skinny on Dipping

This past Saturday was "Skinny Dip Day", which - as I understand it - occurs on the second Saturday in July. I was not able to participate (personally, I'd choose a weekday for an activity like this), but I've more than made up for it on any number of other occasions already this year. However, while camping this weekend, I did end up hiking through an unexpected rain shower, and later paid an impromptu visit to a "swimming hole". And it's given me some food for thought. Now, I'm torn between the desire to broadcast my observations to everyone I know, and the fear of how it would reflect on me, complaining about how "unfair" it is that I can't walk around naked in front of other people, instead of appreciating the good times I undoubtedly had.

Since you're reading this here, you know which side won out in the end. That's just not the person I want to be seen as. On the one hand, I'm dissatisfied with the way our culture approaches the human body. I want to change the world. And I know I can't do that unless I speak out, and raise a fuss. But I am not the pivot upon which the world rotates. What little sway I have among my inner circle I wield zealously, but progress is a slow drip. And I have much to lose from a potential misunderstanding, if I press too firmly on a subject that is notorious for being misinterpreted. It's a tight rope to walk, being a counterculture revolutionary, while still maintaining other people's trust and respect. But for the record, here is what's going through my mind.

It's a matter of perspective. As a visitor to this planet, I think I can understand the rationale behind the general prohibiton of public nudity. I don't necessarily agree with it, but I can understand where it comes from. Man is a filthy animal. But few aspects of human behavior confound me on so personal a level as the way in which people will permit their hang-ups about their own bodies to prevent them (nay, not just themselves, but others too) from avoiding the discomfort of wearing wet clothing - clothing that doesn't keep you dry in the first place, and retains moisture (sapping your body heat) long after your bare skin would have dried in the open air, even without the aid of a towel. It's irrational!

In addition to the self-inflicted torture of forced discomfort (not to mention the psychological toll of going through life hating your own body), some of the simplest pleasures in life are denied us when we cling so tightly to our man-made coverings, out of the fear of being reminded of what our anatomy looks like, and the function it serves. Not least of these is a joyful feeling of freedom the likes of which few ever experience in our culture. It sounds like a trite cliche, but take it from one with experience - it really is true.

As an artist, I also like to cite the beauty inherent in our design. What's the point of an attractive body if nobody gets to admire it? That's like draping a tarp over an exquisitely crafted statue! I stand by that argument, even though I'll begrudgingly admit that few of us approach the Platonic ideal of the sculpted human form. However, I'd rather suffer the chaff for the sake of the wheat, than gouge out my eyes to spite the unremarkable ordinary. Wouldn't you? (Don't answer that).

Regardless, swimming is one activity that seems to make a mockery of our usual commitment to so-called "decency" and "modesty". Yet, it seems silly to go only so far, and then still stop short of the finish line, leaving you to your silly towel dance while you try to peel off a wet pair of shorts that clings defiantly to your legs (after which you immediately re-robe while your skin is still damp). Truly, an enlightened race of men would discard such ridiculous customs, acknowledge the dignity in our natural form, and simply swim nude under the open sky, like literally every other living creature on this planet.

If believing that makes me the crazy one, then I don't want to be sane. I just don't want to be labeled a menace to society, for thinking there's a better way than hiding a truth we all pretend not to know - namely, what we look like under our clothes.

Tainted With Eroticism

Or enhanced by it?

The fact of the matter is, if I were to say, "I get turned on sometimes, envisioning myself as a woman," there are people who would turn that around and use it as a weapon against me. To shame me. To discredit me. To accuse me of horrendous things. So I won't say it. But I will say that womanhood - especially in our heavily sexualized culture - can be a very sensual experience. Some people might say that's a bad thing. I say, when has adding pleasure to the recipe ever been a mistake? Your so-called "morals" are as thin as paper, and just as easily discarded.

God gave us a gift. (I don't believe in God, but I'm using that as a rhetorical device - it's just a metaphor for nature, or chance; whatever made us the way we are). Which is the ability to feel pleasure through the manipulation of our sexual organs. Its purpose is to increase our happiness, as we wander this Earth doing what we were programmed to do - which is survive, and procreate. Unfortunately, in our imperfect fallibility, we have learned to use this tool as a weapon to inflict pain on others in selfish pursuit.

I don't think that means we should give up on it. That some would use it selfishly, to steal happiness for themselves at the cost of hurting others, doesn't mean the rest of us should discontinue using it correctly, to spread happiness throughout the world. The people who abuse it have nothing to do with me. They are not me. And I do not support their actions. So please do not lump me in with them because I still believe in the virtue of pleasure and eroticism, while all you are able to see in your fearful, myopic rage is the danger and risk of harm.

It all goes back to the doctrine of sexuality as corruption - which I don't believe in. Like Midas' touch, eroticism taints everything it comes into contact with, giving it sinister flair and charging it with malignant intention. If you find sensuality in the experience of being naked, you can't be a nudist - you're just an exhibitionist. If roughing it in the wilderness without clothes turns you on, then every hike will be interpreted as a sex act. If you have any inwardly directed feelings of arousal tied to your gender identity or expression, then you're not transgender - you're just a cross-dressing pervert! You can't share these experiences with family or friends, or enjoy them in public - ever! - because they're being defined as categorically sexual in nature, and that would be highly inappropriate.

Never mind the fact that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, even though there are other occasions on which it might indeed be a penis. Nor am I allowed to suggest the theoretical possibility that we could all be smoking penises in public without incident and it would be just fine - because the world would not end, and we'd all learn that it's not that big a deal. (Oops, I just suggested it). Because if I did, it would tarnish the purity of my reputation, and seriously undermine that point I just made about cigars. They'd put my head in a guillotine and make sure I never have the freedom to spread my perverse delusions throughout society ever again.

I'm not saying there aren't bad people out there who would take advantage of a little leeway to wreak havoc in people's lives. Unfortunately - it's the reason we can't have nice things. But can't we at least have the imagination to suppose scenarios, that may or may not reflect reality all that closely, and then nourish ourselves on the pleasure those fantasies might bring, without instantly being labeled monsters? Imagine a world, for example, where minor sexual infractions - I'm talking non-contact offenses - were dealt with between people, instead of in court. And when people couldn't work it out themselves, it'd be brought to civil court, and not made into a criminal case.

Imagine a world where people co-habitating - or visiting others - could have a balanced discussion (with compromises on both sides) on what's appropriate re: dress codes, and sexual behavior. Where unexpectedly bumping into somebody naked would (maybe) be cause for surprise, but not necessarily castigation, let alone criminal sanction. Where somebody masturbating on a couch (assuming they're not bothering anyone, and have the courtesy to clean up after themselves) might just as soon be left alone as brought into a calm conversation about personal boundaries.

I know you're thinking that in most cases, this is how the world already works - but you're neglecting two important factors. One being that people tend to exercise self-repression, even in cases where they might be permitted some freedom if they had the courage to push those boundaries - but mostly they don't, because they are decent, empathetic people, and they've been taught by example (whether directly or indirectly) that you will be labeled a menace to society if you don't bend over backwards to stay out of other people's way.

The other factor is one I barely have the courage to mention, because it's poisoned with so much rhetoric. It's all well and good when two adults have a dispute over appropriate boundaries, but once you mix children into the living situation, it escalates very quickly. Nobody in their right mind would be fool enough to make the argument that we shield kids from the truth about human sexuality far more than is actually to their benefit (although if they did, they might remind you that repression - as opposed to open communication - is the veil behind which misbehavior often hides). But all rules that seem reasonable when applied to adults go out the window on the merest possibility that a child might step into the room. And how many places in this world can we go where that is not at least a possibility? Thus, we have rules that look good on paper, when reality reflects a far more repressed situation than anyone wants to admit.

I'll leave you with one last thought - about the importance of representation. It has been said - especially in the course of defending the freedom of speech - that speech is the beginning of all thought. Logically, it would seem that words communicate thoughts, and therefore thought must be the genesis of all speech. But while a creative mind may be capable of generating thoughts that have not (yet) been translated into words, in a broad and very real sense, average people have a hard time conceptualizing things they have no words to describe - nor any prior model or experience to draw from. This is the purpose of awareness. To utilize speech as a tool to direct thought into patterns that advocates consider under-represented.

Whatever the truth may be. Whatever doubt people may hold in their hearts. On a mass scale, a culture cannot conceive of a thing, at the very least, until an example of it is presented to them. Be it fictitious, in a book or a movie or a TV drama. Something people can point to and say, "that". "Oh, you mean that?" Something that other things can be compared to, and contrasted with. Whether it's a model to live up to, or to avoid at all costs. (Though preferably the former). I'm just a reclusive hermit too frightened to be in the public eye, but I wouldn't hate contributing to expanding people's imaginations in that direction - towards the conception of a sex-positivity that is virtuous without being exclusive - whether it's through my own lived experiences, or the art that I create. I want to be an example - I don't want to be made an example of.

Filthy Beauty

I know I've mentioned this before (somewhere), but I read an eye-opening book about two years ago (Perv: The Sexual Deviant In All Of Us by Jesse Bering), that spends some time exploring the suppression of the disgust reaction during sexual arousal - a point that's really stuck with me. It's the reason that, to pick out a simple example, some people actually like to put other people's genitals in their mouth (I'm intentionally phrasing it to focus on how weird it sounds if you're not thinking about it in a sexual way). I mean, it's one of those things that's, like, obvious, but putting it into a (more or less) scientific context really helps you to understand human nature (and our behaviors) much better. Anyway, I just had another epiphany related to this subject.

The fact that your disgust reaction is suppressed when you're sexually aroused - so that you'll tolerate, even desire, behaviors that involve intimacy with what can only be described as "gross anatomy", all so you'll be incentivized to increase your chances at procreation - suggests to me that the things you're programmed to find desirable are inherently disgusting (to a certain degree). After all, sticking a body part into another person's orifice and then excreting bodily fluid into it - well, it doesn't sound very romantic, does it? But attraction is the key to the gateway that penetrates the wall of repulsion and body horror.

Why should these things be inherently disgusting, if you're not holding the key? Possibly because it prevents us from fucking everyone all the time - but since evolution would probably not object to this pattern of behavior, I suspect it has more to do with the fact that intimacy necessarily leaves us vulnerable. Not just emotionally. Or to external threats. But physiologically, as well. How better to transmit disease than to essentially remove the physical barrier between two (or more) persons' internal anatomy? Just like how we find bodily waste, or the stench of death, repugnant - largely because avoiding these things protects us from dangerous microorganisms. But in the case of sex, the potential reward is worth the risk (the only thing more important than survival is avoiding extinction). But better to limit exposure to just those moments when it's necessary - i.e., when you spot a hot babe, with whom you might have a chance of making healthy babies.

Anyway, the epiphany I had after ruminating on this fact is that this is probably why anything to do with sex and eroticism is such a taboo, constantly courting controversy, and inviting censorship. What you might find beautiful in an erotic sense is intrinsically filthy, and will undoubtedly be seen as such by anyone who doesn't share your particular sexual tastes. It's not simply that people are being uptight, or have been brainwashed by a puritan religious upbringing (although I'm not discounting these things as contributing factors). It's an inherent byproduct of our biological programming! Which isn't necessarily reassuring (biology is a tough force to counteract), but understanding the problem correctly is always the first step toward finding an effective solution.

I mean, think about it. Human beings (and not just our species, but organic life in general) are icky, gooey, drippy, leaky, smelly bags of flesh and guts. If it weren't for the sheer importance of the role that sexual reproduction holds in our fundamental programming, I doubt we'd even tolerate ourselves for more than a second. This actually bugs me as an erotic artist, because it reveals that the subject of my passionate dedication is rather narrow-minded and ego-centric. I mean, there are standards of aestheticism that approach the objective (at least from our perspective). You can appreciate the beauty of a fine specimen of animal, for example - the lines and curves, the musculature, the colors and patterns - without it (necessarily) involving any kind of sexual evaluation whatsoever. But that driving force of desire that makes an erotic portrait so... potent? Just imagine, if there were another intelligent species on this planet (or any other), what they find erotically beautiful could be unremarkable to us. Or, worse yet, actively repulsive. And of course the reverse would have to hold true. If the virtue of my work can't even transcend my own species, how much value does it really hold, in the cosmic scheme?

On the other hand, it's not even as though all human beings can appreciate my art. My subject is so niche, it's not a majority - it's not even a multitude that appreciates it. Just a tiny minority. So I don't know why it should bother me that hypothetical beings that may or may not exist, and that we probably won't come into contact with any time remotely concurrent with the existence of my consciousness, can't appreciate my work. I guess I just want to believe that I'm doing something that has importance beyond the tiny blip that is the span of my life on the universal clock. But I should be content in the knowledge that, even if it's only a few people, there are others out there who appreciate what I do. And that not only do I find it enjoyable to do, but doing it brings pleasure and excitement to them as well. That's enough, right?

Right?

But I wish, as a society, we could stop criticizing each other for enjoying the things we like that other people find repulsive, especially to the point of not just withholding another's happiness, but ruining somebody's life because of what ultimately amounts to a matter of unbidden tastes. We literally want to put bullets in people's heads because they prefer the taste of salted caramel to cookies and cream.

Confessions of a Gymnophiliac

I was traveling the other night by interstate. Alone. At night. And I stopped at a rest stop. The place was empty. Like, completely empty. And the restroom had a gigantic mirror just inside the entrance. I was the only one in there. (Are you sensing where this is going?) I felt compelled to take off all my clothes, and snap some pictures. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though I had to do it. But I wanted to. I found the idea positively thrilling. Not strictly in a sexual sense - as you can observe for yourself. I just think there is a primal beauty and a forbidden sensuality to being unclothed, that can be enhanced, whether by proximity to the natural world, or, alternatively, by juxtaposition with the trappings of modern society. And I like to capture the electricity of that tension in my photography. Is there an erotic component to this beauty? Yes, there can be. I don't deny it. But that doesn't change the fact that this wasn't about sex.

If there had been any indication of a single other person present in the building - inside or outside that restroom - I wouldn't have done it. I chose that time and place because I knew I could do it without anybody ever finding out. At least, outside of the audience those pictures would have, who I could reasonably assume would appreciate (and not condemn) the boldness I exhibited. It was a closed location, with only one entrance. I could hear if somebody was coming, with what I judged would be enough time to dip into a private stall (where I had hung my clothes), so that nobody would suspect a thing. And, being a restroom, I knew (at least, I hoped) there were no security cameras in there.

Hypothetically, I would have been thrilled to have left the restroom while still naked, and wandered the rest stop. Taken some pictures standing beside the vending machines. Browsing the stacks of brochures. Sitting on a bench. Exiting to the outside through the automatic doors. But the danger of being spotted increases exponentially as soon as you cross the threshold of that restroom. There would have been no time to set up a camera. A high likelihood of being seen by staff or other visitors, long before I had a chance to hide. And near certainty that I would be caught on a security camera, with recorded proof of my mischief. (Not a heinous crime, mind you - just... mischief).

[description: a sculpted figure stands naked from head to toe in a public restroom]

I know this isn't normal. Most people don't have these inclinations. Such thoughts don't run through their heads. And even if something were to cause them to contemplate such a bizarre scenario (as wandering naked through an interstate rest stop - or a grocery store, or a laundromat, or a hotel lobby, or any public place), it would be met with confusion, if not outright horror. Is there something wrong with me? Not just that I have these feelings, but that I am somehow able to justify them in my mind as being less than the antisocial compulsions of a lunatic? Is it not relevant that their purpose seems to be something other than simple sexual gratification? That I'm conscious of the need and the value of making an effort to avoid being a public nuisance (whether or not that's just a self-defense mechanism)?

The problem is, there's no context in our society for these kinds of behaviors. It makes me feel alone. But more than that, it leaves me in confusion, to wonder what's wrong with me. (Because there has to be something wrong, right? I couldn't simply be expressing a wonderful if rare example of human diversity, could I?). It seems related to nudism - the interest in living life, and engaging in normal activities, without clothes. Yet I have enough experience with how nudist communities respond to expressions of these kinds of fantasies - with criticism, revulsion, and ostracism - to know no kinship will be found there. People like myself are readily labeled exhibitionists, and while that may not be completely untrue, neither is that a community with which I find fraternity. The lack of sexual motive. The effort to which I want to avoid being exposed. Not to mention the unfair (and unfairly cruel) stereotypes which are used to classify exhibitionists as subhuman, not worthy of understanding, much less sympathy.

Where, then, does that leave me? I'm okay with being labeled eccentric. An outlier. But human society demands categorization. I want to be understood. Not treated as something I'm not, just because most people can't distinguish the difference. Above all, I want to be convinced that I'm not a monster. It's not enough that I don't believe I am. I could be delusional. I have to explain my case in the hope that others can see me, and come to the same conclusion. To know that I'm not insane. But how can you rest your sense of self-worth on the judgment of others who can't possibly know your experiences and motives as well as you do, and may not even have the interest or the capacity to care? It's a cruel fate. But therein I lay trapped.

How do you extend a hand in compromise, toward a society that would simply prefer you didn't exist? To reach out for help, from someone who wants to stamp you out? And what's the alternative? Crawling around in the shadows, wallowing in loathing and self-pity? What kind of a way is that to live? Or should I prove their worst nightmares true, for lack of a better outlet? Become the monster they've fated me to be. And why do I keep torturing myself by expecting reason, let alone compassion, from the human race? There's no order. There's no justice. There's no meaning. I want certainty. I want protection. I want peace of mind. And it's not forthcoming. I just can't seem to come to grips with the fundamental chaos of living. And I can't even say these things to the people that need to hear them, for fear of what it would do to my reputation...

[description: naked selfie in a mirror over the sink in a public restroom]

I have to acknowledge the possibility that I could be somebody's worst nightmare - imagine, walking into a public restroom and what you find is a naked person holding a camera (although this should be dreadfully obvious from context, I feel compelled to say it because people are idiots - the camera's not there to take pictures of you, it's there to take pictures of me). Especially - and I am loath to say this, but - if they have the "wrong" anatomy (because a penis is really just a type of horn, that proves men's fundamentally demonic nature). I mean, if that's your worst nightmare, I envy your charmed life, but that's beside the point. What's also beside the point is the fact that if I encountered such a person - a person just like me, who is as conscientious of others, as well as committed to the artistry of beauty (and not simply looking to get a kick out of breaking a sexual taboo, all other concerns aside), it would be a dream come true! I can only imagine what could come from a collaboration between two such bodies and minds in sync. Maybe that's reason enough, from the perspective of the masses, to never let such a thing happen.

But why should some of my greatest fantasies of happiness be things I'm not even allowed to want? Is two beautiful people running around naked in public really so horrible a thing? I don't know why this concept intrigues me so. I wonder how much different my life would be if I had normal, un-controversial passions. I'm sorry I wasn't born conventional, like you. I wish I had been. My life would be a lot easier. But I wasn't. Does that mean I don't deserve to live? And if I do, does it mean I don't deserve to be happy? If the world is constructed in such a way that naked beauty cannot appear without being an obstruction to the normal functioning of society, then I want to live in a different world. A world where that kind of thing can happen. And does happen. And I can be a part of it. What's the point of a life lived in misery because you can't have the things you want most? Tell me, how is this thing that I want a threat to the well-being of others? Nothing about my desires depends on the suffering of others. The existence of nudism proves that it is not a foregone conclusion. Our culture is just pre-disposed to interpret what I find beautiful as threatening. Yet it won't recognize that in indulging its neuroses, it is torturing me. Why is their peace of mind more valuable than mine, and my agony less of a concern?

The only resolution to this conflict of interests is either to strip the part of me that enjoys nudity from the core of my being, or to change society to view the human body in a more positive light. (Would that be so odious an adjustment to make?). But as monolithic an endeavor as the latter would assuredly be, it still seems more possible to me than accomplishing the former. Alas, there shall be no resolution. And if I must suffer continuously through all the days of my life, what's it to anyone if, every once in a while, somebody has to suffer in some very small part because I took too daring a risk one too many times? The shit I see humans doing - and getting away with, without remorse, or even reflection - and I have to sit here with this wretched conscience telling me I'm scum because I can't be happy without doing something that might upset someone somewhere sometime. It really is true that evil prevails because good must follow the rules. I wish I could take a pill to stop caring. To shut off my conscience. Why can't I just be content to be human, with all its incumbent flaws, without having to beat myself up because I'm not a perfect angel?

Beauty is Truth

It's an almost universal feeling among at least half of the population. It's our natural, biological programming. AND it's necessary to the continued survival of the species. It's literally our prime directive, and yet, somehow, we've drilled this idea into the core of our concept of civilization, that it's a sin for a man to look at a woman with lust in his heart.

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully support treating women with respect. There is a misogynistic culture in which men seem to revel in abusing - verbally, and worse - any woman that arouses his libidinal desires, accompanied by an undeserved sense of entitlement to their bodies. I think that if your compass causes you to feel pleasure in the fact of another's existence, then that alone, without promise of anything more, justifies the responsibility to treat her well. And, after all, isn't that a better strategy for befriending her, in the hope of being able to spend more time in her presence?

But treating women with respect also includes not shaming them for courting attention of a particular variety. Especially (but not exclusively) when they're not doing it consciously! Because this is how our species propagates, and it's interwoven into the very fabric of our society. The way women dress. The fundamental nature of dance. Things that they learn even from a young age, before they understand the underlying purpose of it. It's not some evil plan. It's just a fact of life.

And then we make men feel bad for feeling good when their biological instincts respond as they've been programmed to. Even when they exercise restraint, and practice good manners. An implication is posed, that there is some sinister intent at the heart of it all - at the heart of physical attraction, which drives flirtation and courtship behaviors. Civilization has taught us that these things exist to bond pairs together. But evolution knows the real truth: that all those precious babies are being made because men are designed to salivate over women's bodies. We should be grateful for it - not resentful of it. Because, without it, we wouldn't even be.

But we live in a culture where protecting the planet that cradles us, and shelters us from the lifeless void of space, is an unpopular stance. So I guess that's way too logical an expectation for our species. Life is already hard. Why do we make ourselves suffer more than is necessary? For the inscrutable glory of some imaginary character? Intelligence is a myth. We're just dumb, hairless apes. How did we ever make it this far? Oh, that's right - because desire is more powerful than shame. More powerful than any civilizing influence. And if the day ever comes when that is no longer true, then that will be the day that we go extinct. The forces of chastity would do well to take that lesson to heart.

Fallen Empire

Insofar as the fallen empire of the United States is a world leader in cultural influence (although they don't deserve to be), I'm anticipating some hard times ahead - particularly on the front of freedom of sexual expression. Rest assured, I WILL die on this hill. Nothing will ever stop me from spreading sexual pleasure to the masses, short of locking me up or putting a bullet in my head. But there is probably a lot of frustration coming down the pike, as the Christofascists - emboldened by the stupidity of the American public - clamor to put into place their vision of a sexless utopia. I just want to warn you, so you can be prepared. There is a storm coming. Now is the time for us to brace ourselves, so we are not beaten down by the forces of chastity that are polishing their rifles for the hunt right now, as the Antichrist readies himself to take the throne. We shall prevail, by hell or high water. Or we go extinct. There is no other option. Let us make our adversaries the ones who will go extinct, once and for all time.

Inventory

I keep the photos I take in folders on my computer labeled by day, sorted into folders by month, and by year. I don't take pictures every day, but I do take them more days than not. Not all of it is self-portraits, of course, but that is my most frequent subject.

Anyway, I've started doing an inventory of all the content I've left unfinished (processing it for sharing) since the fall of 2021 (which is where I left off when Patreon committed its act of injustice against me). Even though all I'm doing is writing folder names down in a text document, as a sort of index to guide me to where there is still work to be done, just getting it organized has been enormously helpful to my headspace. It's no longer a jumbled mess of unidentified folders scattered across three years of photos - it's a neat list I can check off as I go along, getting the work done that's been ignored and piling up for years.

To think that, even now, I'm still recovering from the effects of the way Patreon treated me, and the impact it had on my health (both physically and mentally). If there were any cosmic justice in this universe... but I don't believe in that idealistic bullshit. I've seen too much to maintain such naive delusions. We inflict so much unnecessary suffering on each other, just because we're superstitious about sexual pleasure. I can see a better way; so why doesn't anybody listen to me?

Nevertheless, I'm still trucking along, leaving what impact I can on this world, in the vain hope that when it's all said and done, my having ever existed in the first place will have been worth it. I just wish I'd been born to a more promising species. One that deserved me, and had its shit together enough to recognize the potential in me, and the means to utilize my talents for the betterment of all. Because that's what I want to do. But all I see around me is regression, and the resentment of anyone who promotes progress. Humans are either dumb, or scum. And neither alternative inspires much confidence.

Addendum (2 days later): Much of the relief I felt has evaporated, now that I've completed the inventory and realize how much work there is to be done. Going back to October of 2021 (fully 3 years ago), which is when the backlog starts, there are approximately 200 separate folders (that is, days) worth of photos in various stages of incompletion. Some of these folders might have a handful of photos that need watermarks. A great many of them have multiple videos that need to be canvassed for screen caps - which is a tedious job. We're talking three summers' worth of outdoor recreation, among other things.

I should be glad I have enough content to guarantee posting will continue without undue interruption for years to come, even if I were to put down the camera and not take another shot from this day on (and we both know that's not going to happen). But the task ahead intimidates me, and I know I have a lot of great stuff that I'm excited to share - there's just so much of it that it's going to take a while to sort through it all. And heaven forbid I should have an accident or a medical emergency and miss the chance to release it to the public, or lose the use of my right arm due to excessive clicking and dragging (I'm not even kidding), before all is said and done. (Having anxiety means you frequently think about these sorts of things)...

Old Glory

[description: a man in a star-studded bikini brief holds up a volleyball on a sand court]

Given my feelings on toxic patriotism and the people who are most likely to fly the American flag, I'm beginning to wonder if I can even continue to wear this swimsuit proudly, without being a hypocrite, given what I feel the stars and stripes stand for these days (it's not liberty or justice, that's for sure). But it's so hard for me to find a swimsuit I genuinely like, that fits me comfortably, and in such a way that I can wear it to a crowded public pool (not the one I usually complain about) without fearing that I'll look like a pervert. And the fact that it's a bikini bottom marketed to girls, and not a swim brief designed for men - more than just freedom from dysphoria, it gives me a feeling of gender euphoria!

If I could find an equivalent substitute in a different pattern, I'd be ecstatic. I actually had my eye on one this year - a pretty mermaid bikini with shimmering pink and teal (my favorite color combination!) scales. I bought it twice, in two different sizes, and they were both too small. I haven't had any luck finding one in a larger size. I'm gonna make a point to look more closely at the selection earlier in the season next year, but in the meantime...

[description: a figure in a shimmering mermaid bikini reclines on a rock surrounded by wilderness]

Maybe this is just rationalization, but I do feel differently when it's me donning the stars and stripes. What I hate about seeing the American flag is the hypocrisy of what it's supposed to stand for, compared to what the people who fly it actually support in practice. They're more likely to be conservative and religious, which necessarily means that they oppose liberty and equality. When I walk into the pool dressed in a red, white, and blue bikini bottom, not only am I genuinely expressing the principles those colors stand for - i.e., the liberty to wear what I like, and the equality of the sexes to be judged by the same rules - but I'm also likely to upset and aggravate those "patriots" who think our flag stands for homophobia, transphobia, and misogyny (among other forms of bigotry).

And that's a win for me. I'd still like to have something different (I don't even feel comfortable wearing red, white, and blue on the Fourth of July anymore - I prefer wearing black lately), but in the meantime (as I said), I think I can live with that. Call it reclaiming the flag for the progressive, queer-friendly community. :-p

Modesty's Arrow

Outside of gravity's influence, we can move freely through space - in any direction we like. But time moves only forward, and never backward. In physics, this is referred to as "time's arrow". It's related to the concept of entropy, which you can think of - although scientists will tell you this is an oversimplification - as disorder. Closed systems (even the universe as a whole), if left to their own devices, have a tendency to fall into disarray.

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;
look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
- Percy Shelley

It's the reason why, unless you put deliberate energy into cleaning, a room will trend, over time, toward disorganization. To keep things in order, you must exercise - as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody would say - constant vigilance. The orientation of time's arrow may be demonstrated by the fact that an egg dropped from a countertop will shatter into many pieces and scatter across the floor, but it will never gather itself back together and reform its original shape.

The explanation involves probability states and redistribution of the elements within a system. Consider the fact that if you were to mess up one shirt in a pile of folded laundry, it would stick out like a sore thumb; but throw another sock onto a disheveled pile of clothes and you'd hardly be able to tell the difference. It's all quite fascinating, but far beyond the scope of this discussion. I merely want to introduce the concept of time's arrow - and the unanswered question of why it should flow in one particular direction, but never the other - in order to draw an analogy to modesty (with relation to clothing), and its implied moral imperative.

"Decency is a pattern of behavior, not a style of dress."

It seems to me that the question of how much or how little to wear always carries with it some moral baggage, rather than simply being a matter of personal choice. The edict to "cover up" is always interpreted as a moral imperative, while any suggestion to "take it off" is viewed disdainfully as an indecent request. There may be localized exceptions - even whole communities (such as nudism) that create contexts in which this rule is flipped - but they are the exception that proves the rule. Over a broad consensus, the moral evaluation I have described tends to hold. It's what we teach our children, and it's what they mainly continue to believe throughout their lives.

My experience witnessing people telling others to "cover up" is that they always do it in a moralizing, preachy kind of way. It touches on the deep roots of sex negativity and gymnophobia (fear of the human body) and the underlying current of self-loathing that stains our culture. It's as if they're on a holy crusade to "clean up the streets" (does the world really need more Travis Bickles?), and fix other people's "sinful" behaviors, presumably in an effort - no doubt goaded on by faith handlers of various stripes - to guide them towards what they conceive to be a more saintly existence.

Although natural instinct pulls us in the opposite direction (and why shouldn't it?), you don't really see people going around telling others to "take it off" (or similar) - because most people know how such a suggestion would be received (skin exposure is viewed as indecent, and the desire to see more of it is therefore suspect), and have the social consciousness not to want to be perceived as a degenerate pervert. Unfortunately, the type of people who flout society's conventions and impulsively speak their mind anyway tend to be unscrupulous, instinct-driven animals (otherwise they would have put more stock in those conventions, regardless of whether they agree with them or not), and lo, the sordid reputation holds, because there's no polite way in this society to say "naked is more beautiful".

[description: a naked tourist stands in front of a raging waterfall]
A quick pose, before that Amish family glances up from their picnic.

I'd just like to ask, why should the moral value of modesty in dress necessarily have to flow in one direction and not the other? And why does it do so in practice? What religious mythology has been woven into the tapestry of our society, so firmly as to even influence secular culture, about the extent to which the devil reaches his hand into the "pleasures of the flesh"? And why should it have to be that way? We have the freedom to decide our own beliefs; I have the freedom to believe not only that the human body is not evil, but that it is divine, and that physical pleasure is a virtue and not a sin. I have the freedom to believe these things, but if I go around expressing these beliefs, I risk being cast as a villain, and eyed with suspicion.

One of the greatest scientific discoveries of the early twentieth century was Einstein's revelation that space and time are not absolute, but that our experience of them is relative, dependent on a frame of reference. From my perspective, these "modesty warriors" who go around spreading shame and judgment upon those who revel in the celebration of what little joy our mortal bodies can give us - to me, they are the ones who are evil. When there are two opposing vantage points, who gets the authority to decide which one is proper, and which is distorted? Should we simply adopt the one that is more common, or the one whose adherents are the most vocal? Remember, there was a time when most people believed the Sun revolved around the Earth and not vice-versa; a great scientist named Copernicus was vilified by the church for proposing an alternate theory that we now know absolutely to be true.

Without reason, can speech ever truly be free? I would love to be able to feel comfortable expressing my beliefs about the human body. To talk about its beauty and the pleasure it can bring. To encourage those people who I think deserve to be seen, to show off more of their bodies and flaunt what they've got. People can agree or disagree with my opinions on these matters. That's fine. What I can't stand is the thought of becoming a pariah for stating them. Of being looked at and treated like nothing more than a pervert. (Yes, I'm a pervert - aren't we all? - but I'm so much more than that). Or, worse yet, being considered a sick predator, diseased in the mind, dangerous and unholy. All because I bow to the temple of naked beauty, unbound by any arbitrarily constructed social laws of propriety.

And so I remain silent, more often than not. But it has a dispiriting, isolating effect on my psychology. It's not healthy. I want freedom of speech. I'm not asking for freedom from other people's reactions to my speech. That's a strawman concocted by people who claim to support liberty, while hypocritically attacking free speech defenders they accuse of the equally ridiculous notion of only wanting to spew hatred without repercussion. I just don't want to live in a society where people are habitually - to the level of making it a predictable outcome - predisposed toward exaggeration, and maliciously misrepresenting people's views and statements (exacerbated by a cancel culture - which goes by another name: "cyber-bullying").

I don't want people not to have the freedom to come to their own conclusions about the things I say. I just want to live in a culture where I feel safe enough to say those things, with good intentions, knowing that people will evaluate them fairly and without misrepresentation, with patience and rationality - not knee-jerk emotionalism fueled by memes and propaganda designed to manipulate the masses - and with reasonable allowance for thinking outside the box and considering unconventional viewpoints before rejecting them outright. Just like I strive to do.

Do I have over-inflated standards for Homo sapiens, or what? But why should I be forced to settle for less? I want so much more than that. And we're just talking about talking! Heaven forbid, I should try to actually pursue the things that make me happy, and attempt to make my vision of a naked paradise (similar to a nudist resort, but more like an artists' retreat than a retirement community) a reality. I have no desire to hurt anyone physically or psychologically, or compel them to do anything against their will. But some ideas are so dangerous... I fear that, to quote the bard (not Shakespeare, I mean Bob Dylan), "if my thought-dreams could be seen, they'd probably put my head in a guillotine." And that's just for the fantasies alone!

Platonic Erotica

Sexuality is a broad spectrum, and human diversity is vast. My own brother identifies as asexual, and I'm still wrapping my head around all the different kinds of asexuality there are. I told him I sympathize with the feeling that the raw sex act is kind of unappealing in all its messiness, but that I do not identify with asexuality because I still unmistakably experience those strong feelings of physical attraction and desire.

It was a revelation to me, reading Perv: The Sexual Deviant In All Of Us by Jesse Bering somewhat recently, that our disgust reaction is typically subdued with regard to people we find attractive. It's not rational to want to, e.g., put your tongue between somebody's legs, or let them excrete bodily fluids onto or into you, but we're programmed to find even the suggestion of such acts appealing - provided they're performed (or imagined) with somebody who stirs in you a physical desire.

It's helped me to understand some of my own feelings. Most people know instantly when they're attracted to someone, but if you notice somebody suspiciously dropping their standards of what they would usually find unappealing, targeted toward a certain person, that could be an indication that they're attracted to that person. I think some people have a broader range of attraction than others - and that's why, for example, it seems like some guys will fuck anything with a hole - but I think it's perfectly normal to have a narrower range and not want to engage in such behaviors but with a much smaller subset of the population. In the case of certain kinds of asexuality, that subset could well be zero.

Anyway, my brother told me he was "aegosexual" (as in, a-ego-sexual), which I understand to mean that you can still experience sexual feelings, but without having any desire to participate in sex. For example, you can have fantasies about other people (or characters) having sex, without wanting to insert yourself into the act. As someone who's obsessed with their own reflection, I think it's kind of sad not to have that experience of feeling sexy in your own body (and as an exhibitionist, feeling that your body is desired by others). But I was thinking that maybe I have something of a similar approach to erotic art.

When I create a magnificent piece of art, I want to share it with people. It just so happens that the type of art I'm most passionate about is art that showcases the beauty of the human body. Sometimes that's erotic in nature, other times it's not. But I distinguish such art from pornography in that its purpose is not strictly or even primarily sexual (what goes on in the viewer's head is their own private business). In my mind, it's divested from any kind of intimate relationship. So, aside from the public censure of genital exposure (which usually limits me to coyly posed nudes), I should be able to share it with friends, family, and strangers alike.

The thing is, I feel the same way about an excellent piece of art whether it's a "simple" nude or an erotic portrait. Obviously, not every picture I take is something I would be comfortable sharing broadly, with family and friends, or any other people I would feel weird about having sexual thoughts or feelings about me. But a really good piece of erotic art? Not cheap smut, but a carefully crafted diamond of eroticism?

It doesn't matter that I'm fully exposed. It doesn't matter that I'm presenting myself to the camera. It doesn't matter that my penis is throbbingly erect. I still think I should be able to hang it over the fireplace and print it on Christmas cards distributed to my family during the holidays. Yes, it's blatantly sexual. But it's not an invitation. It's not flirtation. It's not foreplay. It isn't about engaging in a sexual relationship with me. It's about a general celebration of human sexuality. In a way that's more impersonal, despite how personal such a depiction might seem.

Not everybody can be depicted in such a way. But I'm not an average-looking person; I'm a model. And although beauty is subjective, on some kind of objective scale I must be more to the attractive end of the spectrum (at least in my best moments - which is what I try to capture in these pictures). Those views aren't designed for private intimacy. They're designed to be plastered on billboards, and I don't think it would be inappropriate to put them there. And if I had friends or family who engaged in the same artistic pursuit, I'd be more than happy to share an appreciation for the fruits of those labors, without any kind of expectation of sexual intimacy.

All of these are things I've been saying for years. But now I'm thinking, maybe it could be related in some way to this asexuality stuff. The sexuality is present, conceptually, but divested from the subject of the photograph (me). It's like a Platonic form of eroticism - not in the sense of crossing a sexual boundary with your Platonic friends, but in being able to enjoy the erotic delights without reacting in a way that is explicitly sexual. Like appreciating the appeal of a sex scene in a movie enjoyed with friends, without treating it like a porno to be masturbated to. Or, you know, just talking or joking around about sex without creating an expectant atmosphere of sexual tension (like I know a lot of friend groups are capable of doing).

---

On a related subject, I've noticed for a long time now that my appreciation of eroticism - especially in an artistic context - both in myself and others, manifests in a way that is sometimes absolutely sexual, but often isn't. I browse naked pictures of beautiful people almost daily, and most of the time there isn't even a physical response. That's not why I do it. Mostly. But I still enjoy it. It still stimulates me on a psychological level. After all, not every part of attraction is purely sexual. When a man spots a beautiful woman and stumbles over his words, it's not (necessarily) because there's a bulge in his pants. I just think you can also appreciate the physical attributes on a level that's almost Platonic, too.

Maybe this is part of what I've been trying to explain as the difference between sexuality and eroticism. It's like when nudists say the human body is beautiful. Is there a sexual component involved? Of course there is! But there's more to it than that. And you can admire the same aesthetics that promote desire, also in a way that's not explicitly sexual. Most people can appreciate somebody who's attractive on some kind of generally objective level, regardless of whether or not they'd invite them into bed, given the opportunity. As a sex-positive activist, I don't think we should discount the potential sexual element, as nudists fervently do. But at the same time I don't think it should be a foregone conclusion. There is eroticism without explicit sexuality.

It's the difference between talking about sexual acts, and talking about sexual attitudes. Which is where I think a lot of nudists misunderstand me. Are we not able to appreciate erotic media and stimuli in ways that are, for lack of a better description, non-sexual? I get it. It's complicated. The language doesn't do justice to the complexities inherent in these concepts. The human brain is so complex. How is it that humans are frequently too dumb to understand the capacity of their own brains? We're trapped inside our closed minds, unable to imagine anything we weren't taught when the world was simplified for the benefit of children. And it's frankly repugnant, the way humans reject any attempt at increasing the resolution in our understanding of our own nature. They'd rather shut their eyes, and clamp their hands over their ears. We have so much more potential, and yet people just waste it. But it's not those people I cry for, it's the rest of us who are subjugated by the inability of the ignorant masses to imagine anything beyond their own tiny worldview. That's why I hate democracy. It's a tyranny of idiocy.

Naturism and Naturisn't

I know I'm the one that's out of the ordinary, but from my perspective, it seems bizarre that anyone would go to enjoy the outdoors, and not spend at least some of that time naked (depending on the weather - I'm writing this in the midst of a heat wave). Now, I don't expect everyone to enjoy nature the way I do. But it's frustrating that everyone else expects me to enjoy nature their way, and gets frazzled when I don't. I'm not demanding that anybody else get undressed. Yet, I'm expected to wear clothes against my own wishes!

I can understand, to a certain extent, why public nudity is verboten (there's a certain disconnect with reality when you look as good as I do). Although, there are times and there are places that are more reasonable than others. A campground in the woods, a public bathhouse, a river bank on a hot, summer day - these are places that practically demand nudity, and weep when it's censured. Yet indecent exposure is treated like a strict liability crime. If somebody sees your anatomy without consenting to it, that constitutes some kind of transfer of "unlawful carnal knowledge". At the very least, it's considered a severe breach of social etiquette, instead of just part and parcel of being organic creatures possessing physical form (as it should be).

[description: a naked camper stands in front of a tent in the woods]

To me, getting naked in nature is not just an integral part of my personal pursuit of happiness, it's legitimately part of my spiritual identity. I do go out of my way to engage in it without "spooking" anyone, even though I question whether it's fair that I should have to. Even so, I'm haunted by the anxiety that if somebody catches me, it won't be considered an invasion of my privacy, but rather that I've committed some kind of atrocity against the interloper. And in the wrong set of circumstances, it could be a severe crime indeed.

Whether or not reality reflects these fears, these notions are commonplace, and so people will behave as though they are true. All I want is peace - to be, and to be let be, enjoying nature the way it was intended. Without alcohol. Without trashing the environment. I'm just a gentle animal, unclothed, who respects the planet that bears us graciously upon its surface. Why do I feel hunted, like I'm some kind of vicious predator whose population needs to be culled? I'm harmless, and I'm endangered. The law should protect my way of life.

In My Defense

Some people's idea of freedom is to get drunk, drive recklessly, and shout obscenities to strangers. My idea of freedom is to get out into nature, away from people, and take off my clothes. One of these activities is more popular than the other. It's also the one that's more disruptive of society.

Pool Rules

or Swimsuit Sexism vs. a Free Body Culture

Preface: With Memorial Day just around the corner (and therefore the start of the summer season), I've had swimsuits once again on my mind. I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but I'm going to keep bringing this up until the culture changes (if it ever does). If you're annoyed of hearing about it, just know that I'm annoyed coming up against the same limitations to my freedom year after year after year. It's tiring, I know. That's the point. But if you want to shut me up, then change the culture. If you won't give me freedom, then at least give me equality.

[description: a figure in black swim shorts stands next to a figure in a black bikini]
Pool Day vs. Lake Day

Sexism is...

1) equating briefs on a man to a thong on a woman (because we're used to seeing more of women's bodies, I suppose),

2) outlawing both at the pool, yet

3) permitting young girls to habitually wear thongs without fanfare, while

4) any man appearing in a brief is singled out and censured, and

5) assumed to be a pervert or, worse, a sexual predator - because

6) the pool is a "family-friendly" environment.

Like, in what universe is a man dressed in what is considered appropriate for the Olympics more of a threat to the innocence of children than those selfsame children wearing thongs?

Not that I want to police anybody's wardrobe. As a nudist and a civilized human being, I believe that we should all be able to swim naked without incident.

The general public is unfortunately far from being capable of realizing that possibility, but we should at least write our rules in a way that treats the sexes as equal, and not assume that a man's character can be judged by what he's wearing.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm giving humanity way too much credit. We're illogical, superstitious animals. I just can't figure out how I managed to get stuck in the middle of this terrestrial zoo...

actual photograph (emphasis added)

Evaluation: Let's take a closer look at the very rule that is frequently the bane of my summer plans. At face value, it would seem that these restrictions are being applied equally to both sexes, but there is one important exception - men's "Speedos". Yes, men and women both are prohibited from wearing thongs. But consider that I've seen women wear thongs without fanfare, and you would absolutely NOT get away with it if you were a man. That rule is primarily directed at women - even without explicitly saying so - because it's the limit (despite not being enforced) on how little they can wear. If men can't even wear "Speedos", then clearly thongs are out of the question for them; that goes without saying.

Now, when I say that I've seen women (including underage teens) wearing thongs, I'm not talking about completely brazen g strings. But that doesn't mean when I say "thongs", that I don't mean "thongs". Women have a lot more variety in their swimsuits than men, and there are a lot of different styles of bikini bottoms that offer a wide range of coverage - both in the front and back. And for those young women who are interested (and they are out there), there are options that have gotten progressively closer to what we traditionally call a thong. I've even witnessed teenage girls intentionally giving themselves wedgies to create the appearance of a thong. And nobody bats an eyelash. This is part of our culture.

Again, I'm not concerned about it - I'm just jealous that these young girls can get away with so much, when it feels like as a biological male, my options are so much more limited. Yeah, it's a switch from the way things usually go, but this is something that actually matters to me. I'm not interested in being a CEO. I support women being paid as much (if not more) as men. I just want to wear the same kind of swimsuits women can wear. Or at least, a fair equivalent, given our differences in anatomy. It's just so much easier to be a [person who enjoys confidently showing off their body]* as a woman, because these kinds of women are celebrated, while these kinds of men are reviled.**

*There's a much simpler word for this, but I hesitate to use it because it's dripping with unwarranted stigma.

**While it's true that body-confident women do tend to get some blowback, and that men's bodies are frequently sexualized from the waist up, the culture nevertheless normalizes a higher percentage of exposure of women's bodies, while casting disproportionate shade on any suggestion of the male anatomy, due to a misandrist perspective (I would say homophobic, but women join in too - it's really more generally androphobic) on anything associated with male sexuality. If you think my hypothesis is flawed, I would love to hear an alternate explanation for why skimpy bikinis are not just more popular (a matter of personal choice), but less ridiculed (condemning other people's choices) in American culture than men's swim briefs are. Please, let me know.

Getting back to our evaluation of the posted pool rule, men can effectively ignore the prohibition on thongs, because they can't even wear "Speedos", which provide considerably more coverage. And women can certainly ignore the prohibition on "Speedos", not just because they're called men's "Speedos", but because it makes absolutely no sense to prevent a woman from wearing "Speedos", when every single bikini bottom (and every single one piece, for that matter - if we focus on where the legs meet the torso) provides as little or - in most cases - less coverage than a typical men's "Speedo".

[description: a man in a star-studded bikini brief stands on the shore of a lake]

Even the fuller coverage bikini bottoms that are marketed to small children offer no more coverage than a typical Speedo-brand swim brief. I know this, because sometimes I buy them in XL so I can have something feminine to wear that still provides the adequate "support" that most adult women's bikini bottoms lack (because they're so skimpy). So, this rule about "Speedos" clearly applies just to men and not women. (We'll just gloss over the fact that the Speedo brand makes other kinds of swimsuits beside the swim briefs they're known for, or the fact that women's "Speedos" usually refer to fairly more modest one piece swimsuits, because most people use the term to refer to the style and not the brand). So you see, although the rule superficially appears to ignore a person's sex, in effect, it actually does provide different rules for the different sexes.

As a final disclaimer, I should confess that I haven't actually tried wearing swim briefs to this particular pool, or ever seen another man do so (as if anybody else in this culture would want to). So I'm only speculating on what would happen. I could be wrong. Clearly, the staff is fairly permissive, given the number of thongs and see-through-when-wet swimsuits I've stood behind on the stairs waiting in line for the water slide (and again, I'm not complaining :-p). I've worn swim briefs just about everywhere else, including public pools with less explicit dress codes. I do tend to stand out and draw a lot of attention - because, even more so than a young girl in a thong, it's not something most people are used to seeing.

Maybe that's the worst that would happen. I'm pretty brave when it comes to these sorts of things, but the truth is, when there's an explicit rule forbidding something, I'm scared to break that rule. I like to push the boundaries, but I don't want people to see me as somebody who doesn't respect the social order. I just want a social order that includes - rather than excludes - me. Especially because most times when I go to the pool, I'm not looking to make a political statement at the risk of expulsion; I'm there with family and I just want to have a good time. And in defense of my claim that what I'd like to wear isn't threatening to a "family-friendly" environment, the kids in my family are always begging me to take them to the lake, where I usually wear a swim brief or even a bikini, and they accept it without issue. In fact, they're very supportive of me. One of them has even made it a habit to go shopping with me to pick out matching bikinis. Nobody thinks twice when a woman does this. Why should I be treated differently, based on what could be considered an accident of birth - my anatomy?

[description: a figure in a girls' bikini stands on a rock overlooking a lakeside vista]

I'm grateful for the level of acceptance I get within my own family - it really means the world to me. But it all comes down to the fact that I'm literally unique. I don't know a single other person who is like me. (Consider that time I went to a large water park in a big city, and I was literally the only guy wearing a swim brief, and I actually witnessed one girl averting her eyes, despite wearing a barely-there bikini herself). So I'm all alone in that respect. I want to push the boundaries, but I'm also scared to be alone out there on the front lines. If I had some friends like me, a community to draw courage from, to support me if I come under fire from a conservative majority, things might be different.

You don't know how hard it is for a man to find acceptable swimwear if he really doesn't like the only style men in this culture are expected to wear - the dreadfully baggy "board short". I can't just swing by the mall and be drowned in options like women are. I have to order stuff online from fetish shops (because they're the only ones in the market for skimpy men's swimwear) at premium prices, and hope that I estimated the fit of the Chinese sizing accurately (spoiler: I didn't). I'm not trying to wage a war on everything you consider holy. I'm just trying to live my life authentically, and pursue the things that make me happy. Human diversity is larger than the neat little boxes we've constructed to contextualize everything we encounter. And people on the fringes deserve respect and happiness as much as you do. I don't want to make you uncomfortable; but I also don't want to be uncomfortable. I want to wear what I'm comfortable wearing. And not have people assume that my body is a weapon, when I have no desire to use it as one. Isn't that what we're supposed to be able to do in a free country?

What was the point of Memorial Day again? To celebrate the freedoms we've gained thanks to those who made the ultimate sacrifice? You can go ahead and make a show of saluting the flag. It's easy enough to do, and requires no test of conviction. But it doesn't mean a damn thing if you turn around and continue to oppress your fellow citizens - especially the disadvantaged ones. And I'm sorry if I sound cynical, and seem unappreciative, but it bothers the spirit of justice within me to know that the more likely a person is to pay lip service to the murderous military-industrial complex, the more likely they are to be an active contributor to the erosion of the very freedoms the sacrifices we're honoring were made to protect. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't want to associate myself with that crowd.

Naked Beauty Therapy

I had been reviewing some photos I'd taken naked in the woods recently - thinking about the power of the effect of seeing an attractive body fully naked in the midst of a landscape, whether natural or manmade. That "wow" factor elicited by the starkness of the nudity, placed matter-of-factly into the context of our day-to-day lives - it's one of my favorite things in the world, and it's a large part of the reason I continue to shoot nude photography.

Then I was standing at the window, looking out at the lush greenery of the grass growing wild in the early spring, and I thought back to a time last summer when I had the pleasure of waking up at camp, and taking some pictures fully naked in the bright morning sunshine, at the edge of a wide, open field. And I got to thinking.

It's difficult to find people with which to celebrate the beauty of the human body. Join the perverts, and they'll want to make everything about sex (and anyway, what you're willing to do counts more than how you look). Join the nudists, and they'll scold you for rationing beauty (while insisting that fat, old bodies are as beautiful as young, trim ones). Isn't there a middle ground?

Where do I sign up to join a retreat where you get to hang out with beautiful naked people, in a way that's respectful, yet honest and life-affirming? What a salve for the soul that would be. I'd pay good money for that experience. Nudism can be that in its best moments, but it's always left up to chance, and you risk being ostracized if you dare admit that you enjoy the view.

I understand why perverts have to hide from nudists, but why do I have to hide from nudists the thing that distinguishes me from the perverts? It's like, on the scale of erotic aestheticism, I'm too focused on attractiveness to be a nudist, but not focused enough on sex to be a pervert. I don't belong anywhere.

If I had any power or influence or money or charisma, I'd open a naked beauty therapy (NBT) resort. I'd hire attractive people to walk around, hang out, and socialize with guests fully naked (guests could be naked, too). While it wouldn't be the focus, photography would be permitted, but only if done openly and with consent of the participants (this would be something I'd look for when hiring). However, people wouldn't be made to feel dirty just for asking.

Why can't such a place exist? Would it just devolve into a sex resort? Why, then, am I so hung up on creating a fantasy that's unrealistic? And why don't I get to have nice things, just because other people would break them? Would I feel differently if I'd had different experiences in my life - like, if I felt capable of initiating intimate relationships with attractive people I meet? Why should I be punished, by my own mind, for not sleeping around? What kind of programming is that?

I wish someday somebody could come along and give me some answers to the questions that have plagued me all my life. I wish life actually had a meaning and an order that we could discern, instead of being arbitrary, and open to interpretation. I wish I didn't live in a society that felt oppressive in spite of its freedoms, made up of barely-intelligent apes who are all too easily exploited and manipulated by the corrupt overlords at the top, for the benefit of the few at the cost of the many. I wish I didn't have a condition that causes even the things I enjoy to stress me out. And I wish I didn't have such eccentric tastes, so I could more easily find people to share them with, and enjoy them without feeling guilty about it.

More than anything, I think I'm just tired of suffering for no good reason at all. If there were such a thing as mercy, I never would have existed in the first place. No, that's selfish. I know I make [a very few] people happy by being here. Is it wrong for me to resent having to suffer for the pleasure of others? I just don't understand why it's wrong for me to ask for something in return. I can't even ask for what I want in life, let alone have the means to acquire it. I've even spent years solidifying my reputation, and searching for alternatives to simply asking attractive people to let me see them naked.

Weirdly, even online, it's hard to find attractive people who want to be seen naked - real people that don't feel marketed as a commercial product to be consumed impersonally. It's like the entire world has a vendetta against beauty, because every time I catch a glimpse of it, overbearing forces are hot on its heels, ready to snuff it out. Religious conservatives condemn the sin of lust, while liberal feminists decry the objectifying 'male gaze'.

I can't seek a purpose in fighting for revolution because I don't even have a side. There's no army to join. I'm alone, and if I were to rise up, I would be squashed like a fly caught between the jaws of a vise. So I have to hide myself, like I have to hide my body, my beauty, my passion, my joy, and pretend to be something else. But why? There's no reward at the end of it all. What is it all for? What horrid thing did I do in my previous life, and why do I deserve this punishment if I can't even remember what it was?

Obsessed With Nudity

"Am I obsessed with you?
I do my best not to want you.
But I do all the time - want you all the time."

These lyrics are from Obsessed - one of my favorite deep cuts by Miley Cyrus (who also sang, more recently, "I'm completely naked but I'm making it fashion"), from the same EP that gave us Party in the USA.

I don't know why I'm so obsessed with nudity. If I think about it rationally, I probably wouldn't even be that thrilled about a world where public nudity is mainstream, just on account of the fact that most people aren't that great to look at. And if the typical nudist mindset is any indication, it may well be the case (at least on a statistical level) that people who are more attractive will cover up to avoid attention, while the ones who do undress will be the type who don't give a damn about appearances. I hate to give voice to a common nudist myth ("it's never the ones you want to see naked..."), but we are talking about my fears and anxieties here. And on that subject, not everyone is as meticulous about hygiene as I am...

But when I think about it emotionally, there is 1) that apparition of beauty that haunts me, causing me to envision a nudist utopia where everybody is beautiful, coupled with 2) the simple knowledge of the sensation of how great it feels to be naked and exposed, indoors and out. The former is basically voyeurism, and the latter borders uncomfortably on exhibitionism. Which begs the question, why are "pure" nudists even that invested in nudism, if the more you "like" nudity, the more of a pervert you must be? And would I be so invested in it, if I weren't such a beautiful creature to begin with, that I get to look at in the mirror on a daily basis?

[description: a dashing male figure with long hair stands naked before a bathroom mirror]
Please don't make me cover this up!

Certainly, there's nothing wrong with having a fantasy in my head of a world filled with naked supermodels, but am I crazy to try to apply my desire for that to the real world? Am I opening a door expecting models to flood out, when really there are just "average" people waiting on the other side? Would I really like going out in public naked, hanging out with friends and family, only to discover (and I'm just speculating here) that my enjoyment of nudity has a fundamental sexual component? How awkward that would be! (In my defense, I have demonstrated not only an interest in nonsexual social nudism, but the ability to engage in it without incident).

In the meantime, the concept still thrills me, and if nothing else, it's something that gives me joy to explore - partly in my head, but also partly out in a section of the real world, mostly isolated from others. And isn't that just how tribes gather and practice their interests? Do I need nudism to be mainstream, or is it that what I really need is just more nudist friends? It's lonely being the only person you know in any meaningful radius that has any kind of dedication to a lifestyle that your identity is suffused with. I can't just sign up for the local nudist league, because there isn't one!

[description: fifteen identical nude figures gather for a backyard barbecue]
I tried creating my own, but the only person that showed up was me.

And what if nudists aren't the right people, after all? What of the potential erotic component? I'm not looking for hookups or sexual partners or to engage in any orgies. But if there's a little bit of a naughty edge to the proceedings, I don't want to be ostracized for it. But I also probably don't want to share that with just anyone - it has to be someone I like and trust and am comfortable being around, yet probably also someone who isn't looking to have a sexual relationship with me, and won't feel that they're being "led on" - why does it have to be so complicated?!

Honestly, I had a lot of hope for the community of artists I was interacting with online a couple of summers ago. These were people who not only understood the artistic drive, but were experienced working with nudity, accepting of the erotic arts, yet still (as far as I can gauge) respecting of personal boundaries. (Also, they weren't people who were already drooling over my body). These are the kind of people I want to hang out with. To collaborate with. But they're scattered, and preoccupied with modern trends I don't follow, and I don't have the people skills OR possibly even the artistic pedigree (that's a matter of opinion, but I don't think I'm the most unbiased person to ask) to demand their time or attention (let alone being valuable enough to have them demanding mine), and not simply be a desperate hanger-on.

[description: a nude figure hangs limply from the trunk of a fallen tree]
But I am desperate. And at this point, I'm just hanging on.

Not to end on a depressing note, but I'm going to end on a depressing note. It seems to me that the only way I can get anyone interested in me as a person, or in the workings of my beautiful mind, is if I can first get them addicted to my body. Is my obsession with naked beauty a distraction from what else I have to offer? Am I doing myself a disservice by focusing on it to the exclusion of other things? But I do genuinely value it, and I don't want to have to jettison that aspect of my passions. And frankly, I'm afraid to dump the one part of me that has the tiniest bit of traction, for fear of being trapped in an empty auditorium, my words echoing off the walls, as I stand there listening to myself talk.

It's not that I don't have confidence in what I have to offer - my position may not be very relatable, but I think I have a very insightful perspective to share with the world. But if I put myself out there time and time again, only to be greeted by none other than my dear old friend, the crickets - at a certain point I have to start wondering if the problem is me. Am I just not that interesting? Or am I operating on a level beyond what most people are capable of perceiving? And if so, why do I even exist? What's my purpose? Because it's definitely not to lead a conventional lifestyle - being a mindless breeder worker bee. I have human desires, but I lack normal human abilities. My life is a cosmic joke.

Holy Nudism

or Nudism, Religion, and Politics

While certainly (and demonstrably) NOT a requirement for participation in the lifestyle, I do believe that nudism is excellently poised to dovetail with spirituality. While to some, nudism may be little more than an elaborate dedication to "party naked", for a vast many lifestylers, their approach and attitude toward a confident revelation (as opposed to ashamed obfuscation) of the human body borders on religious devotion.

I may be biased, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. I'm a person who thinks that nothing brings you closer to God (whatever that means to you) in this life than enjoying the great outdoors without a stitch of clothing on. We all have to believe in something larger than ourselves. And, as an atheist, I'll make the caveat that those beliefs don't have to contradict a scientific understanding of reality. The universe is vast, and we are but a small part of it - reveling in the dizzying sense of its enormity, and our connection to the infinite, need not require ascribing sentience or meaning beyond what we have the power to ascertain through our gifted yet limited intellect.

[description: a man stands naked in a garden with apple in hand, genitals obscured by foliage]

With all this in mind, I want to say: the fact that there are Christian naturists, and that the religion isn't de facto incompatible with nudism (it wasn't God, but the serpent's influence that led Adam and Eve to cover up - yet somehow we have forgotten this), doesn't absolve the culture of Christianity for the responsibility it bears in demonizing the human body and its public exposure. No Biblical fact or personal anecdote ("But I'm a good Christian!") can balance the sheer weight of pressure that is driven, without exception in the social and political landscape, by complaints lodged and campaigns levied by zealous and fear-mongering religious conservatives.

[description: a nude figure kneels in agony before a podium, with flag hung in the background]

As a parallel example, just because I still believe in the promise of America, and the values this country was (ostensibly) founded on, doesn't mean I can just erase all the bad things that America currently (and historically) stands for. To me, true patriotism in this day and age embodies the responsibility to call out the culture of toxic patriotism that runs counter to the principles of liberty, justice, and equality. Although I believe in what America is supposed to stand for, I'm not going to fly a flag on my front porch, because right now it symbolizes a lot of things I don't support.

Similarly, if you are a "true" Christian today, you shouldn't be proud of the legacy your religion is laying down. Your foremost responsibility should be to call out the church's corruption, not to praise the gospel. If you turn a blind eye to what is going on all around you, you are part of the problem. It doesn't matter how much you narrow your focus on what you believe are the good aspects of your religion. If you're letting others rampage across the countryside in the name of your God, and your primary instinct isn't to stand up and speak out against it (loudly and with regularity), then you are just as responsible as they are for the sins your church is committing. Because these campaigns wouldn't be popular if those complaints weren't perceived to be representative of the concerns of the national congregation. If Christianity truly were a positive influence on society, it wouldn't permit itself to exist in the form it's currently in.

Some're to Fall

Even though we're constantly being reminded of it, it's still easy to forget - and hard to imagine - that the world looks different to different people. Although I do have an appreciation for fashion, I tend to take it for granted (because it's how I personally feel) that the unclothed human body is the ideal form of beauty, and that clothes are there to frame and accentuate - like the polished backing that sets off a glittering gem - not to cover and obscure. So that, the skimpier the outfit, the better it looks (provided the person wearing it is attractive to start with, of course). Which is why I love summer fashion so much.

[description: two figures stand in a bedroom - one dressed for summer, the other dressed for fall]
Some like to bundle up; I like to strip down.

Matters of taste are notoriously subjective - this I know. That's the appeal of freedom. Everybody gets to make their own choices, and the result is an abundance of diversity. Something for everyone. Of course, it's human nature to advocate for your own interests, but what gets to me is when cultural pressure is applied in order to lock out certain choices. You don't have to like skimpy clothes, because you don't have to wear skimpy clothes. But it's a consistent pattern that people who do (or would, if they had the agency) like to wear skimpy clothes receive a lot of judgment for their choices, often deterring them from doing it.

We're a social species. Not all of us are as fiercely nonconformist, and immune to peer pressure as I am. In fact, I'd wager that most people are not like me in that respect. We want to fit in. We want to be accepted. It takes a lot of courage to buck the trend and stand out, and stick to your guns while doing it. If I were even a smidge less independently-minded, I'd have given up on presenting as the gender I feel like in my heart, a long time ago. I haven't. But I worry how many people are out there suppressing their identity and their happiness in order to feel that sense of belonging that we all crave.

And the result is that the mainstream tends to railroad minority interests. Isn't it enough that these interests are in the minority? Do we have to exert pressure to stamp them out entirely? If it were simply the case that nobody else liked to walk around with a lot of skin exposed, I'd be disappointed, but I'd be out of luck. I could make a case for my approach, but I can't control how other people think. But the fact that there are people out there who would probably join me, but don't, out of a fear of judgment - well, that just riles me up. If you don't like it, don't do it, but leave others alone to do their thing!

And when you put a moralizing edge on top of it - as there always is, in matters that relate to beauty and the human body, which are inextricably entwined with the aesthetic element of our fundamental sexuality - you're rigging the game against me. I can't say, "but it should be okay for people to walk around town in string bikinis" (much less nude) without losing respectability and sounding like a single-minded pervert (as opposed to a connoisseur of aestheticism*). The opponent has, in effect, hollowed out the base of my argument so that merely standing on it causes it to collapse. It's sabotage!

[description: two figures stand in a bedroom - one wearing a jacket and boots, the other in a bikini]
I wanna go where the weather suits my clothes.

*[This might be a tough claim to swallow, as most people are not attracted to most people they encounter. Perhaps I'm being idealistic, but think about the feeling you get when you do encounter somebody you find attractive, and then imagine getting to see more of them. I keep thinking back to pool culture, and how quickly we become acclimated to a veritable panorama of bare skin. Also, there's a confidence factor involved. Self-consciousness may inspire average-looking people to cover up, but it's the moralizing and the slut-shaming that's jealously heaped on people who should be showing it off that feels distinctly unjust to me.]

The reason we're not limited to an academic discussion of hypotheticals here is because it all pivots on the fulcrum of what we're allowed (or, more importantly, not allowed) to expose our children to. Anything that's deemed inappropriate for children is naturally going to take on an edge of taboo - since it's a form of knowledge that will be actively denied of them. To think that such an ingrown notion will instantly disappear the moment they reach maturity is nothing short of magical thinking. The effect is that we will always carry a little bit of shame surrounding these topics, because it's what we were taught in our most malleable years. (For things like drinking and smoking, I have little sympathy, as those are detrimental to the health. Sexuality, while perfectly natural and healthy, is fraught with complications. But awareness of human anatomy? We're talking about the fundamentals here!).

And that is why conservatives* in Wisconsin are currently trying to criminalize nudism [NSFW], despite the fact that science and unbiased reason back up the claim that there is nothing harmful about people being exposed to the human body from a young age. (How insane is it to outlaw the sight of what every single one of us possesses beneath our clothing?). Why does it feel like we're moving backward; that our civilization is regressing? Haven't we reached a point where we can simply be unclothed humans without assuming that it will turn us into unrestrained sex fiends? Or that we can admire the natural beauty of the human body - simultaneously holding its erotic qualities in our mind, while recognizing the distance between our imagination and the reality before our eyes? Clearly, we have not. And I'm growing tired of waiting around for the rest of society to evolve. I didn't get thrown into this American experiment just to die with my dreams unfulfilled.

[description: two figures stand in a bedroom - one dressed, the other nude]
Being undressed is not an adult activity.

*[A note on partisanship. Although these measures far too frequently receive bipartisan support, conservatives rightfully bear the brunt of the responsibility for them. Liberal politicians should absolutely be held accountable for their spinelessness in not standing up to conservative rhetoric. However, saying that they are just as responsible as the party that consistently brings these issues to bear in the first place would be delusional. It has been proven time and time again that these are issues conservative politicians are concerned about (or, more accurately, know that they can bolster their reputation among their gullible constituents by pretending to be concerned about). When you bring a bill to the table that's been disingenuously labeled the "Child Protection Act" (it sounds like a cliché but this is literally the case in Wisconsin), you're guaranteed bipartisan support because the alternative is political suicide. And that, my friends, is what we call "justice" here in these United States.]