Unfriend number whatever

So, I just noticed that yet another person unfriended me on the facebook. Earlier today, I think.

A few years ago, I might not have noticed for a while. But now, it’s something I still just assume is going to happen.

(Just a quick recap for anyone new: When I started this blog and started posting links on the facebook, I lost about 60 or so within a couple of months. It was a little extreme. And since then it’s taped off a lot. Now it’s more occasional. My total number of “lost” “friends” is probably around 75 or 80? Maybe more, I don’t know.) 

I used to really wonder a lot who it was, often looking through my “friend” list to figure it out. I’ve probably said this before, but...when someone unfriends you, I wish the facebook would send you a notification. They notify you of every other fuckin’ thing.

Obviously, many of my “facebook friends” I’m not REALLY friends with. I know them in real life—well, there is one I can think of right now, whom I’ve not met in real life. A lot of them are people I was friends with or worked with or knew 5 or 10 or 20-something years ago. And even most of the people I currently know, I’m not that close to.

Well, this is starting to head toward depressing self-indulgent crap.

So, I’ll just say that while I haven’t bothered to figure out who the last several “friends” are who silently unfriended me, I assume that it’s due to this blog. In fact, of all the unfriends in the last year-and-a-half, only one ever wrote me and said anything. It was almost humorous.

Anyway, despite that fact that I still sort of expect unfriendings, it still surprises me. It’s just sad so many people can’t handle being friends with a naked person. And they just disappear, in silence. Have some balls, people. Tell me you don’t like this or you’re uncomfortable, or that you think I’m a pervert out to do horrible things to your children.
(Oh yeah, I never did write about that. I guess I’m still processing... Soon.)

Well...enough ranting.
Goodnight. 

The Story of “O”

There’s this woman I sort of know. She’s a good friend of a woman with whom I did a show earlier this year. I don’t know the woman from the show very well, but I guess we’re friends. We’re facebook friends anyway.

So, this good friend of hers, who I shall call “O”—not the “O” from the novel The Story of O, which is strange and interesting, although this “O” is also a little strange and interesting—sent me a friend request on the facebook some time ago.

I thought, yeah sure, why not? And I became facebook friends with O, whom I’d never met. We chatted some and often “liked” and/or commented on each other’s facebook posts.

I met O in person once, at a party her friend threw. O and her friend both live in the next town over. I don’t get over that way much, and O doesn’t get over this way much. So, I actually went to this party mostly to meet O. And that experience just added to the strangeness and interestingness of O.

Before that party I’d had two distinct versions of O in my head, based on our facebook interactions. And I’d been hoping to get some clarification—which version was accurate?

Well, at that party I saw a brief glimpse of the beautiful version with whom I thought I could have a real conversation... And then was the loud, tough, slightly scary, tattooed lady that seemed to block out any attempt to connect. At least that’s what I saw. And those 2 aspects of O correspond quite well with the 2 versions I already had in my brain.

Obviously neither of those versions is actually her, though they were based on her...parts of her...aspects, I guess. Probably we all have various aspects which are hard to reconcile.

—     —     —     —     

The thing that I really wanted to write about here is that for a while O was posting on the facebook a sort of “sensual thought for the day”. It was a daily comment or whatever that sometimes seemed like life advice—not sexual advice exactly, but thoughts about being a sensual person, enjoying sensual experiences. And these were always accompanied by a sexy picture, usually black and white, very professional-looking, typically a woman in lingerie—or more accurately, part of a woman. There was never a face, which made me wonder if they were pictures of her or not. Some of them I feel probably were, but others I’m not so sure.

Anyway, that doesn’t matter. The point is that I started looking forward to these posts, looking for them every morning. Perhaps that desire to see her posts speaks to the lack of sensuality in my life. Or maybe it’s more that I really wish I could take great looking pictures like those.

Well, just after that party where I met her, she stopped posting her sensual thoughts. I asked her about it, and she said that she’d be on facebook much less for a while and that I was probably the only one who really enjoyed them anyway. I was briefly disappointed by this absence. But I got over it.

So now, a few weeks later, it seems she’s starting to post the sexy pics again. That’s cool. But, having gotten over the disappointment of their prior disappearance, I’m just not as interested this time around.

It may also have to do with the fact that she was one of the women who turned me down a few weeks ago.

Despite the 2 versions—one I found appealing and one I didn’t—I was still interested...attracted, I should say. Well, of course I was. She’s a beautiful brunette (I like brunettes) with great eyes and who seems to say what she thinks, or at least posts cool stuff on facebook without apology.

Very sexy. Very appealing.

And too busy right now to go out with me.

It’s just as well. I’m likely not her type. Something she said once.

Oh yeah, and I’m leaving soon. 3 weeks. (Whoo.) And I should probably not get involved now with anyone here. 

Why

I have a new idea about why I started this blog last fall.

Yes, I was bored and wanted to do SOMETHING.

And yes, it was a sort of expression of who I am, i.e., a “naked person”.

But it occurred to me last night that perhaps it was that I felt no one really saw me. I don’t mean no one saw me naked, although that is true. I mean no one saw ME. I was just “the guy who plays the piano”, or more accurately “A guy who plays the piano”. Or maybe a music director or a playwright or a guy who writes musicals. But not me.

Of course, I’m also not just “A naked guy” or “that naked guy”. So maybe, if that indeed was a reason to start this blog, it wasn’t successful. And why would it be?

Of course, this wasn’t a motivation I was aware of at the time I started the blog. I don’t recall there being a really strong reason to start the blog. Just more of a strong but vague feeling of wanting to do something. And I still have that.

Changes.

Re-thinking (...or re-doing?).

Working on it. Of course, I can change locations, but I also have to change me. That’s the thing. 

But what do you really mean? (or, Subtext)

I’ve been watching, on the netflix, this British (E4, not BBC) show, Skins. 

It’s a drama in which a bunch of teens are having sex and drinking and using drugs, plus occasional outbursts of violence and other criminal activities.

Some time ago I watched the first few seasons, and a few days ago I started watching the 3rd season. Toward the end of this season there’s an episode in which several characters get upset when they find out that somebody they like had sex with somebody else and didn’t tell them about it. Basically, their lies and stupid behaviors were revealed and everyone was upset. It reminds me of a lot of sitcoms, except on this show, it’s not supposed to be funny.

I’ve written about stupidity and lying on TV shows before. It occurs to me that this is sort of connected to another topic.

Subtext.

I feel like I’ve written about subtext before, but maybe not.

Subtext is what a character is thinking or what they really mean as opposed to what they are saying.

As a writer of plays and musicals, I rarely think about subtext. My characters tend to say what they’re thinking. I’m sure that has everything to do with how I feel people should be in real life. Just say what you mean.

I want to think that people are honest with me. I’m honest with them. However, I’ve learned that most people aren’t honest. Sometimes that makes me sad, sometimes it makes me angry, sometimes it makes me not want to deal with people.

I don’t mean that people are constantly trying to deceive everyone about everything. Maybe some people are, but mostly no. Certainly some people may lie out of embarrassment about some stupid thing they did. But I mostly mean that people will lie to spare your feelings all the damn time.

Seriously, I would rather know the truth up front. Sure, it might hurt my feelings a little. But I really do want to believe you, so when I figure out that you’re lying, not only are my feelings hurt, but now I think of you as a liar. Now maybe I have less respect for you than I would if you’d’ve just been honest.

Unfortunately, this has contributed to my cynicism about people. I never used to do this, but now sometimes I’ll wonder if someone is telling the truth or if they’re lying to avoid “conflict”. And that keeps me at a distance. It’s hard for me to want to be closer if I’m always suspicious of you.

Having studied psychology, I’m aware that may be deeper psychological issues involved with “lying”. But when I’m thinking about psychological motivations, I tend to think that people are either unable to see the truth or just unwilling to deal with it, not that they’re consciously lying. Actually, I think I’m pretty good at getting a feel for a person when I talk with them a bit, maybe seeing through to what’s really going on. 

I had a roommate who called it “leap-frogging”. Maybe not the most accurate term, but he meant that I sometimes jump over all the little points between A and Z, or maybe I see A, B, & C, and then I’m ready for Z. He also suggested that I “use my power for good instead of evil”. I think he thought I was kind of evil. Of course, he was an extremely repressed Christian-type, who regularly prayed a lot and felt guilty after having (reportedly bad) sex with his girlfriend.

I had, for a while in college, thought I might become a counselor. My degree is actually in psychology.

Anyway, maybe my thinking about, or lack of understanding of, or lack of engaging in subtext in a play has been wrong. I’ve often felt like subtext was a lot like lying. But maybe it’s more like having an unconscious psychological issue—maybe something repressed, that you can’t accept, you can’t say out loud or even to yourself. 

Perhaps I should, in the future, craft characters that are all “crazy”. I don’t necessarily  mean the clinically, diagnosably, put-‘em-in-the-nuthouse kind of crazy. Just the everyday, lying-to-themselves, actually-believing-the-bullshit-they’re-saying kind of crazy.

fan mail

Yesterday I got an email from someone saying that they like my blog and that they liked being nude. And they included a picture.

So I wrote back asking if they wanted me to post the picture as a “submission” here on the blog.

Then I thought this could be some picture that somebody got from some porn site, so I did a google image search. I found the exact picture on a couple of sites. It was one of a set of the same 10 or so pictures of (I think) the same girl on both sites—a couple of those young hot chicks sort of websites.

Meanwhile, this person wrote me back saying not to post it on the blog, that they’d rather it be between us. And that they think I’m hot.

So, of course, I wrote back mentioning that I’d just found that picture on a couple of sites. This person responded with surprise and wondered what the websites were, which I told them. And they replied with “omg wtf? thanx 4 lettin me know”.

So. I’m not gonna post the picture, in case this person is legitimately the person in the picture.

But I refer above to this person as “they” (I know, grammatically problematic but less awkward than using “he or she” over and over) because I don’t know if the person is who “she” appears to be.

It would be nice to hear that some cute young woman thinks I’m hot. But this could be from an unattractive middle-aged dude. I suppose that is also flattering, but it’s not really my thing. Maybe I’m just cynical to be suspicious. But it did turn out that the picture is posted elsewhere. So, maybe I was rightly suspicious?

I don’t know.

Anyway...

If “she” is legit and is reading this: hey, how’s it going? Did you really not know those pictures were online somewhere? Write me again and send me a picture of you that’s not online somewhere else.

And if “she” is not legit and whoever sent it is reading this: seriously, if you actually read my blog you’ll know that I value honesty. So, what the fuck!?

And for everyone else reading this: although I haven’t mentioned it lately, I am still open to “submissions”. If you want to send me a picture to post here, or if you want to write something about nudity, etc. send it to me at misterchrister@live.com.

Stripping Natasha

“Strip Me” by Natasha Bedingfield 

AAAHHHHH!!!!!

This song demonstrates part of what I hate about contemporary popular music.

It’s just so fucking repetitive.

If you strip it down to its basics, except for the bridge, I think it’s pretty-much the same 3 chords over and over and over. But you don’t ever really hear the chords that much. What you hear is vocals and drums, and much of the rest of the “accompaniment” is like repetitive background noise.

I listened to another song by the same singer (“Pocketful of Sunshine”). It’s similarly, annoyingly limited in musical variety, when you “strip it down” to the basics. It’s mostly 3 or 4 chords.

That’s what popular music has been for a while. A few chords plus attitude.

I think the audience has become more technologically sophisticated and wants new and more and better—look at movie special effects. But I think we’ve become so much less sophisticated in terms of our understanding of or our desire for content.

The basics are so damn basic that you have to throw a bunch of shit on top of it. Forget well-crafted songs. Just give us a lot of attitude and a decent-sounding voice (which is likely edited and manipulated in the studio), then layer a bunch of annoying sounds on top of it so it seems like something is happening.

Oh yeah...don’t forget the pretty face.

I don’t know, it just seems a bit like waving your arms and yelling “Whoo-whoo-whoo”, flashing lights in people’s eyes and calling that great dancing.

“Strip Me” lyrics

(from: lyricslike.blogspot.com)

INTRO

La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la
La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la

VERSE 1

Every day I fight for all my future somethings,

A thousand little awards I have to choose between.
I could spend a lifetime earning things that I don’t need.
That’s like chasing rainbows and coming home empty.

PRE-CHORUS (This is just like a chorus, but it’s followed by another chorus, so we call it a “pre-chorus”.)

And if you strip me, strip it all away,
If you strip me, what would you find?
If you strip me, strip it all away,
I'll be alright.

CHORUS 

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

VERSE 2 (abbreviated—probably nobody notices much, or minds, because it’s all the same repetitive stuff)

I don't need a microphone to say what I been thinking.
My heart is like a loudspeaker that's always on eleven.

PRE-CHORUS

And if you strip me, strip it all away,
If you strip me, what would you find?
If you strip me, strip it all away,
I'll be alright.

CHORUS 

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

BRIDGE

‘Cos when it all boils down at the end of the day
It's what you do and say that makes you who you are,
Makes you think about, think about it, doesn’t it?
Sometimes all it takes is one voice.

CHORUS

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

REPEAT CHORUS

FADE OUT (intro)

La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la
La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la

“denuded”

denude [dɪˈnjuːd]

vb (tr)

1. to divest of covering; make bare; uncover; strip

2. (Geological) to expose (rock) by erosion

3. (Medical) to divest of a covering, as myelin

I recently saw the word “denuded” in a book I was reading. It means what I thought it meant, but I immediately thought that it ought to mean the opposite. You know, nude...denude. Sounds like the opposite, right?

Language is odd sometimes. 

“What’s the point of it all?” (two articles)

I happened to see these two articles yesterday. 

One (“What’s the point of it all?”) looks at the question (from non-nudists) “What's the point of going to such lengths to take your clothes off?” The answer being basically, “what’s the point of putting your clothes on in the first place?”

The other (“As the Day You Were Born”) presents a few beginner ideas for people interested in being naked. 

I’ve seen this type of article before. There’s one on pretty-much every nudist or naturist website. To me it’s kinda weird and obvious, as if people can’t figure out times they can be naked in their own home or whatever.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve got for you today. Terribly exciting stuff, I know. 

Good for her 2 (Scarlett Johansson—update)

Last fall Scarlett Johansson’s email was hacked (along with several other celebrities), and a couple of nude photos of her were “leaked” on the internet.

I wrote briefly about it back then. (12-8-2011 “Good for her”)

In a new interview about her life (in May 2012 Vogue)

Johansson comments about the incident, “I don’t want to be a victim and say, ‘Oh, well’ and just hide my head in shame.” But she also expresses a sense of “paranoia”...that when she’s out in public, she knows that people have seen those pictures and may be thinking about it.

I wonder about that sometimes. I sense that some people I know seem more distant toward me since I’ve been doing this blog, like maybe they’re not sure how to interact with me now. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but it seems real. 

NOS

So, while working on yesterday’s "naked opera" blog, I discovered a new (to me) acronym: NOS. It stands for “Nude On Stage”.

There are fans, lists, web threads. Here’s one: nakedonstage.forumfree.it. However, sometimes these threads devolve into movies with some nude scene or set in a strip club.

I’m a fan of nudity, and a fan of live stage performance—music, theatre, dance—so I’m certainly a fan of the idea of on stage nudity. Haven’t seen any nude opera performances, that I recall. But I have seen some onstage nudity...that didn’t involve a pole. I mean, I’ve seen that too.

I saw a production of God’s Country (at least, I think it was God’s Country, by Steven Dietz) in which there was, at the end of act 1, an unnecessary, super-brief, topless girl. I don’t think it had anything to do with the play or the scene. And if you weren’t looking at the right part of the stage for those couple of seconds, you’d never know it happened.

I saw a production of Bent by Martin Sherman. The script indicates there’s a naked guy in one scene, but this production had another naked guy in another scene. But in the context, it made sense. Great play, by the way, if you don’t know it. There’s also a movie version which is good. But I think I prefer the play. It’s more gutsy, visceral.

I’ve seen Equus, which has some nudity. Also a really cool play, and there’s a movie of it too. (By the way, a recent-ish production stared Daniel Radcliffe, of Harry Potter movie fame. Yes, he was naked. And yes, apparently you could totally see his “wand”.)

Anyway...

I’ve seen a couple of dance pieces that had nudity. One of them was at a dance festival, and the point of the “nudity” seemed to be something like, “ha-ha, we’re naked ladies back here, way upstage, but you’ll never know for sure, as we slowly inch across stage seated, and facing upstage. But, oh yeah, we’re naked. Heh-heh.” It was just a short part of medium-length piece, and seemed to me kinda pointless, really. The other piece was a longer work about the 7 Deadly Sins, and had some bits of nudity here and there, as well as a more extended solo and duet.

So... Sometimes onstage nudity is pertinent to the work—the play or dance or whatever. And sometimes it’s not; it’s more “hey, let’s have some nudity here”.

Now, I’m all for nudity, whether it’s making a point or if it’s more recreational in nature. But, I think onstage nudity in some works can be...inappropriate. That’s not a word I like much, when it comes to life—people interacting with each other and that sort of thing. But, I feel strongly that in an artistic work there can be choices that are not appropriate for that piece. Now, if the point of the piece is to shock, then great, shock away. But to insert something for shock value, or for your own personal/political/social/etc. agenda that doesn’t pertain to the work is inappropriate. That’s not to say one can’t find new and different ways to present some existing work. But don’t superimpose some idea or element that doesn’t make sense and can’t be justified by what’s already in the work—in the script or score or whatever.

As a professional singer friend of mine put it:

“...throwing naked bodies onstage just to have naked bodies and shock the audience is disgusting. There's a fine line between tastefully done and just doing it because you want to do it. It's like baking a cake. Do you take your time? Measure the ingredients, mix them well and then decorate it beautifully? Or do you just throw all of the shit into the oven and hope a beautiful cake comes out?
There has to be thought and meaning into why there is a naked body onstage.”

Okay, rant over. 

Double Standards

“I think on-stage nudity is disgusting, shameful and damaging to all things American. But if I were 22 with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic and a progressive religious experience.”

-Shelley Winters

Take a seat 2

So, I’ve noticed the past month or so the way I’ve been sitting. I wrote about this a while back. But I’ve noticed more and more that I’m sitting with my legs more open. I know that partly I’ve been sitting at my keyboard, and the stand it sits on it’s not really conducive to sitting with my legs together. And also the way my computer is set up at home isn’t so conducive either. Although I still feel like I’m not the guy with my legs aggressively spread apart, I wonder if my seated attitude has changed.

(I may’ve written about this more as well, or at least mentioned it to people when discussing the blog.) I’m absolutely certain that this blog has contributed to an increase in my confidence about my body. It’s not that I felt unconfident before or had any significant issues about my body. But having all these pictures online, and having people compliment how the pictures look and how I look—these things have maybe built up my ego a little. I hope that’s a good thing.

Perhaps I’ve also developed a little more awareness of my penis while I’m dressed.

Not long ago I met a young woman who knows several people I know, some of whom are aware of my blog. Well, in chatting with her, she made some reference about hearing how I am. I don’t remember the exact context, but I thought she might be referring to my blog. I didn’t ask, ‘cause I didn’t want to bring up any awkwardness if that’s not what she was referring to.

Also, I feel like there are a few other acquaintances—again, who know people who are aware of the blog—that I’ve noticed looking at me more or differently. And I’m not sure if they’re looking at me differently now because they’ve heard about, or seen, the blog, or if it’s something else. If I feel more confident about my body, that probably comes off somehow. And confidence is attractive.

Well, this has become a bit of a ramble. My point was...sitting.

So...am I sitting differently? Or am I just more aware?

Also, do people I’m only sort of acquainted with know about the blog? Is that a good or bad thing?

Do I come off any differently now, and does that actually affect how people respond to me?

Or is it all just my imagination?

Naked Branches

It’s spring. Things are blooming. I’m sneezing.

There are still a lot of naked trees.

I was put in mind this past week of a poem I wrote in college.

By the way, this is a “po-um”. Not a “pome” nor a “po-eem”. I’m Just sayin’.

Anyway, here’s the poem.

“ANTICIPATION”

Soft-falling leaves outside my window,

while I sit and think of nothing,

suggest an autumn breeze—

the cycle of seasons closing,

preparing for a new death.

I expect dark days,

the gloomy outlook of another beginning,

But the sun shines a little too bright,

the trees show a little too green.

Spring growth, it seems,

pushes away

the old discolored remnants

that held on through a mild winter—

no howling blasts to strip them away.

I prefer the blasts,

violently shaking off all that’s used up,

than a gentle spring breeze

and the persistent pressure

of new growth waiting to show through.

Yes, I think I prefer the blasts.

(March 1992)

The problem with this blog is...

This past weekend, I was talking with a friend about this blog. She expressed some concerns, impressions, reactions. Mostly it wasn’t really anything new. But I thought I might share a little, and ask for your feedback. So please, feed my back ‘cause it’s hungry...wait that can’t be right. How ‘bout this? I fed you this blog, now you feed me back your response.

One general idea that came up was that for some people who know me, just the fact that they know me makes this blog problematic. My response is that just because you know someone doesn’t mean you should feel upset or awkward because you’ve seen them naked. We’re all people who are naked some time or another. Also nudity can help folks have a healthier idea of what bodies actually look like, blah, blah, blah.

In a sense, being naked is a sort of honesty, openness. Of course, I know that unfortunately most people aren’t ready or willing to be all that open and honest. I suppose I should just find myself a naked community and move there.

A more specific reaction of my friend was that, since she does know me, she’s heard and/or read (on the facebook) my expressions of loneliness and unhappiness in my personal life. So somehow this blog is that. I’ve said before that had I not been so bored several months ago, I wouldn’t have started this blog. And I don’t know, it may also be true that if I had a significant other I might not have started it. But as I said to another friend some time back, the blog is “not a general dating invite.” Although I would like to have a girlfriend, I have absolutely no expectation that this blog could lead to my having one. In fact, it might make it more difficult to get a girlfriend, as many people would be uncomfortable with their significant other having a blog like this. But honestly, that doesn’t feel like a pertinent issue in my life. I’m not expecting to get involved with anyone; rather, I’m doubting it.

Does anybody else have that reaction? Not that I’m unlikely to get involved. I mean the idea that your knowledge of my loneliness makes this blog seem like I’m trying to fill that space.

Another reaction of this friend—and one that’s not about me, but rather about the pictures...well, it’s also about me—is that some of the pictures seem to her to be a middle-aged dude taking pictures of his penis, and putting them online. And to her that’s kind of sad. I guess it’s related to the previous thought about my being lonely, etc. Obviously, the blog IS a middle-aged dude putting pictures of his penis online. I mean, some of the pictures in this blog are just my penis.

But even the erection pictures are, to me, an exploration of the body—in this case, the male body...my male body. This is a new area for me. I’d never thought of myself as a photographer or a visual artist.

I think the problem with the middle-aged penis-dude is that people think it’s creepy: it’s a lonely guy expressing his sexual desperation hoping that someone will take the bait. “My penis...anyone? anyone?...no?”

So...is that me? I think at least mostly no. But maybe there is some element of that. Maybe by doing this blog I’m hoping for some connection to people. I don’t know. What do you think?

I’ve felt various reasons for starting and continuing this blog.

Boredom: sure, along with the desire to do something a little unusual; it’s sort of the idea of wanting to do something drastic, like shaving one’s head...except I’ve already done that.

One of the more compelling reasons I have—a sort of coming out: a desire to be more open about this part of my life, the fact that I’m naked and enjoy it; I’m still the same person, I haven’t changed, etc.

I think the desire to express...something is involved here as well, especially lately; all the looking at and judging my pictures and deciding which to post has stirred an artistic sensibility in me; I’m feeling a desire to capture/create and share interesting and compelling pictures.

Thoughts, anybody? I really do crave feedback.

I think as a burgeoning “artist” I’m lacking in knowledge and equipment and opportunities. I should take a class, but my schedule is inconsistent, so that could be a problem. I’d probably learn a lot if I just had people to work with—models and photographers. But without money to pay real models, without a studio, I don’t see that happening. So, if anybody’s interested...

There’s also the whole sex thing...how it gets in the way of discussions or displays of nudity. My discussion with that friend seemed to get a bit off track when we got to this. I wasn’t quite sure the point she was making, and it got away from my blog a bit. But I’ll make this point: sex isn’t something to fear, or at least it shouldn’t be. (I’ve mentioned this a little before.) And so what if sex “gets in the way” with some of my pictures? I still feel confident that what I’m doing is not porn. An artistic exploration of sex is a valid endeavor.

Well, I generally don’t get a lot of comments on this blog. I know, people don't know what to say, how to respond. But if you’ve read all this, you might have something to say; I probably would, even if it’s just “I agree”. But especially if you don’t’ agree with everything I’ve said, I hope you’ll comment. Feel free to totally disagree, bring up some point I’ve not touched on, whatever. Please. 

terms

I was thinking about my use of the word “naked” and the term “naked person”. That’s how I’ve described myself, my nudity. I generally say “naked” in place of “nude”. And I call myself a “naked person” instead of a “nudist” or “naturist”.

I don’t think I’ve written about this precisely before, though I have addressed these words before: "Nude vs. Naked".

I suppose I like the term “naked person” because to my mind “nudist” and “naturist” suggest someone who does various activities in the nude—beaches, resorts, parties maybe. And I’ve not done that. I’d certainly be interested. I’ve looked into it occasionally, looked for nude resorts, but I’ve never found one that wasn’t either several hours away &/or rather expensive &/or not open to single males.

Many places require a membership &/or a significant day fee. Often the “individual” day fee is the same as the “couple” day fee. And the “no single males” policy is not uncommon. I suppose the reason is the perception that single men would want to go to a nude resort looking for some kind of sexual contact. That’s unfortunate. I’ve seen places where the “single male” fee was significantly more than the “single female” fee. Perhaps another reason could be that such places already have enough men there and want to encourage more women to balance things out.

There is a nude “ranch” not too far from where I live now, but their single male policy is unclear. Perhaps when it’s warmer, I’ll look into it. Of course, I’d much prefer to have a partner to go with, but at least for now that doesn’t seem likely.

Anyway, back to “naked person”. “Naked person” seems simpler in a way. It doesn’t bring up the kind of associations that I feel “nudist” and “naturist” do. Or maybe that’s just me; maybe those are my associations.  

Another reason I like the term is that it includes “person”. I’m a person, like everybody else, but I happen to be naked. And at some times every person is naked.

(Well, maybe not this guy.)

You could say that deep down we’re all naked, and all equal? Or maybe that’s just pretentious bull-shit.

Does anybody reading this have very strong feelings about these terms?

violence

We seem okay with violence, but nudity we race to criticize and censor.

-Eva Mendes

I have a friend on the facebook who was recently sharing a lot of pictures from a page called *Clean* Funny Pics. Those pics and the page are no longer available. Not sure why.

Some of the pics I found funny, but it just seemed to me that many of them simply rely on violence or violent language for their humor. I can’t remember what they all were, but here are 2 that I do remember and found elsewhere:

wanderings.net

I didn’t find this funny. It’s actually kinda sad.

premad.tumblr.com

This one is kind of funny. It’s the one that first got my attention. It’s also kind of violent, but that‘s not what got my attention.

In the *Clean* Funny Pics version the word “screw” was blacked out. I, quite naturally I think, assumed the blacked out word was “fuck”. So, in this case, censoring the picture actually made it worse. Maybe not technically worse, as it didn’t have a “curse” word, but it made me think a “curse” word. 

It’s like in ancient Greek drama, where the violent stuff happened offstage, or in a suspense movie, where you know the bad guy or monster is there someplace but you can’t see it. To show it makes it definitive, but leaving it unseen lets the imagination perhaps go further than would ever be possible onstage.

Ah well, my point is that I often don’t find violence all that amusing. I prefer the Marx Brothers to the Three Stooges. When I was a kid I thought some of the Stooges humor was amusing, but not anymore. 

“Unfriend” #1

I had a friend who stopped talking to me. Not recently; this was some time ago.

I suppose she's my first "unfriend" due to my being naked. Wait, actually there was another girl a few years earlier. In fact, there may be others even further back. I don’t recall.

Anyway, this girl wasn’t a facebook unfriending; it was a real life unfriending. She was never friends with me on the facebook. That’s actually how I became aware that she wasn't talking to me. She wasn’t on the facebook for a long time, even after “everybody” was. Then a few years ago I saw that she had joined the facebook, but she ignored a few friend requests from me and some messages.

I didn't know what the deal was at first, and I wanted to know. She wouldn't return my calls or messages. I realized something was wrong and heard second hand sort of what it was.

Then I ran into her and she was all, "Oh, hey! How are you?" as if nothing was wrong. So I said (something like), "No. That is not acceptable. If you wanna talk to me about this, fine. But don't act like nothing's wrong." She said "Okay," and just stared at me. I said "Okay" and walked away. And nothing since then.

Sadly, she and I had been pretty decent friends in the past.

I used to hang out sometimes at her place. Then I moved away; when I came to visit, I’d stay there. (There was an extra room.) And she saw me naked sometimes. It never seemed to be a big deal. She seemed okay, or at least not upset, about it. It was something I did to be funny, amusing, "for a lark". 

But then one time I asked her out to dinner. And she brought a friend along. Later I told her that I'd meant dinner with just her. Now, I wasn’t feeling any particular romantic urgency toward her. There had been a time when I was sort of interested, but I didn’t pursue it. And at that point when I asked her out, I wasn’t really interested anymore. I was only in town for a little while, and didn’t know when I’d be back. And I certainly wasn’t trying to get laid. That’s just not me. To be perfectly honest, I thought it might be a nice gesture. And I thought we might have a nice time.

I think what happened is that she was uncomfortable with my invitation. That’s why she brought her friend. So, sometime after that, she saw me naked again. It may’ve been a day or two or a week or month, maybe that time I was visiting or the next—I’m not sure about the timing, ‘cause to me it wasn't a big deal. Well, apparently to her it was a big deal. Apparently she felt that it was some kind of sexual advance.

It wasn’t. 

As far as I was concerned, It was no different than any other time I’d been there. 

But(!)...

She has issues. With men. Well, with sex, and relationships. I just didn’t get how serious those issues were. So, now she has issues with me.

I haven’t written about her before, but a few things have reminded me of her lately. So...there it is.

It makes me sad that she decided that we couldn’t be friends.

It makes me angry that she didn’t talk to me about it. 

The 60-something facebook “friends” that I’ve lost sometimes make me upset, but honestly the loss of her friendship was more upsetting than losing all of those people combined.

At this point, I don’t know if we could ever be friends again—maybe at some future point(?)—(and I don’t expect her to ever see this), but I might be willing to consider it. I’d be willing to listen if she wanted to have an actual conversation about it. But I’m not willing to pretend that everything’s fine, when clearly it isn’t.

Beauty Pageants

Since this years’ Miss America Pageant wasn’t long ago, I thought I’d write something about pageants.

recipes.howstuffworks.com

I have long felt that beauty pageants should just get real, be honest about themselves, and get rid of the swimsuits. I don’t mean to get rid of that portion of the competition, but to just lose the suits. Seriously, what is the point of that, except to see what these women’s bodies look like? And my feeling is that naked would be more honest—no padding, no pushup, no tape, just what you’ve got.

I mean, come on, you can call it a “scholarship pageant” all you want, but I don’t see any “ugly” girls there in the traditional pageants. Well, that may not be totally true, but the “ugly” ones don’t get very far. For real, you don’t have to be really smart...

...nor really good at your talent.

(Ug. First, why is she singing “Memory” in Italian. And, second, are those actual Italian words? I can’t tell, and I work with opera singers all the time. Oh yeah, also please work on your technique, pitch, and lose the arm stuff. Okay, just had to get that out.)

It’s mostly about being skinny and matching certain “ideals” of beauty, ideals which I often find unattractive.

I have known several women who did pageants, who have varying opinions. 

There’s one woman who said that “being in front of thousands of people in a bikini is liberating.”

A singer I knew, who was in a local qualifying pageant, thought it would be classier to have a live accompanist for her talent than to sing with an accompaniment track. So she asked me to play for her. Well, those girls all seemed nice onstage, but backstage there were a few catty bitches.

Anyway, my friend wasn’t really comfortable with the swimsuit part. Her comment about it was that she felt like a “piece of meat” and that she needed to “work her ass off” every day to feel in shape enough.

There’s another woman I know, who, when I found out about her pageant participation, I looked her up. When I saw her pageant pics, I thought she was SO much more attractive now. Less makeup, less severe-looking...more like a beautiful human woman. Here’s what she wrote to me about pageants:

“It hurts to be beautiful”....literally!
Referencing: eyebrow waxing, bikini wax, weight loss, heels heels and high heels, skin care, hair care, exercising, meal planning, talent coaching for some, interview coaching, finances for wardrobe, and more! Well, it comes with the territory!

So, I guess my point is that I find the “beauty” in beauty pageants to be often unappealing or misleading.

lasvegassun.com

And that if you’re really trying to judge these women’s beauty—and don’t pretend that you’re not—then have them appear in a more natural state, an “au naturel“ state. While you’re at it, bring in some women with real curves, not just the scary-skinny, six-packed bitches. Encourage them all to be the size they’re meant to be instead of fighting and struggling and working to fit some Barbie-doll mold.

lasvegassun.com

One former pageant participant wrote to me that “No one really is out there but gay men anyway,” but to that I would add that there are also former Barbie-doll molds/pageant participants (formerly skinny bitches). Also, perhaps most distressingly, there are friends and family who are fully supporting this behavior, this culture of celebrating “beauty”—painted on, fake smile, starving and over-coached, sparkly-dressed, approval-craving women desperately trying to look like this bizarre epitome of “beauty”.

(Yes, I realize my point may not be clear. It often isn’t. I’m not really an essayist. And my general ranting about the typical look of pageant contestant is probably getting in the way of my point that they should be naked instead of wearing swimsuits and tape.)

that naked feeling

I don’t always wear nothing around the house. I’m not completely naked.

Well okay, sometimes I am.

But right now, for example, I’m wearing socks and the new blue knit hat I bought the other day.

During the winter I often wear socks. It’s a little chilly. But between hat and socks, I’m wearing nothing but a smile. I find the knit hat does a lot to keep me warm. The next thing I might put on would be a long-sleeve t-shirt or one of several sweatshirt hoodie type things. Pants are always last. It’s not about having my penis hanging out. It’s that the back and shoulders seem to want to be warm more than my legs and butt, etc.

So, I was cooking earlier. The kitchen gets a little warmer than the rest of the apartment, so I took off the knit hat before I went in there. And I had this sensation of being “naked”.

It’s happened before. It’s an interesting sensation. The part of me that most people would consider the defining element of nudity is uncovered the whole time. It’s something else—in this case, the hat—that makes me feel naked when it’s removed. Sometimes it’s happened when I’ve gotten accustomed to wearing socks. It doesn’t happen every time I take something off, but when it does happen it usually lasts several seconds, maybe even as many as 10 or 15.

I think the first time I noticed it was a few years ago when I was at the beach for the winter. I was doing some writing and walking on the beach a lot and making necklaces of shells I’d picked up. I started wearing one—the first one I’d made—almost all the time. So when I was “at home” (in the apartment where I was staying) I was wearing nothing except that necklace. And my glasses. After several days, I took it off, and suddenly felt very naked. It was strange. Interesting, though.

I’ve even had the sensation when I wasn’t technically naked. Not long ago I had a friend over who insisted that I wear something. So I was wearing a thong. And there was a moment when I suddenly had the sensation of being naked. It was just a moment. I guess that’s a little different. I hadn’t taken anything off. In fact, I was wearing more than I normally do, but it wasn’t when I put it on. We’d been hanging out for a while, and I have no idea what prompted it.

That also happens occasionally—a momentary awareness of the fact that I’m “naked” without having taken anything off. But in that case, it’s just for a moment, a second, or less than a second.

The sensation of “feeling naked” isn’t about how much or little clothes one is wearing. I think it’s mostly a matter of what you’re used to. And it doesn’t take all that long to get used to a certain level of clothed-ness or unclothed-ness.

Well, I suppose if you have serious issues with your body image then it might not be quick to happen. But that puts me in mind of something I’ve not ranted about here lately: that people’s being more comfortable with nakedness, and being naked more, would lead to a healthier body image, especially if one grows up that way—seeing normal people with normal bodies naked sometimes, outside of a sexual context. Less shame about what you look like and a better sense of what’s “normal”. 

That’d have to be good for the world, right?

3 month-iversay (+1 day)

Yesterday was the 3 month-iversary of this blog.

3 months

149 posts

≈5,919 views

64 un-friends

Well, I think the trends from a month ago are continuing:

less views than in the first month or so;

still very few comments from those who are viewing;

I think, in general, people are communicating with me less, or ignoring my comments on the facebook— maybe it’s just my imagination, but that’s how it seems.

Lately I’m finding motivation to be an issue. I’ve done less writing lately and more pictures. It’s like I just feel like putting forth the effort. I suppose I’m depressed.

I do tend to get sort of depressed this time of year. I don’t know if the shorter days have any real effect. I’m not working at all right now during winter break, and not doing much of anything, really, except sitting around all day watching stuff on the netflix.

My ankle is still a little troubled, although it still seems to be getting better. Maybe I’ll start exercising. A few days ago I really wanted to go for a walk, but the ankle was just too sore. And I’m sure if I would start writing something else—a script—I’d feel better too.

I’ve never been good at inventing things to do to keep busy, just like I have trouble going to bed at a decent hour when I know I don’t have a reason to get up in the morning. I’m not good at fooling myself, or at least fooling myself on purpose. I’m sure I lie to myself about some things, like everybody else. But I really try not to.

Well, if there’s anybody around who’s actually reading this and wants to do something—you know, something free or super-cheap—let me know. I could really use a reason to get off the couch.