Stripping down is a common theme in my life. Both physically and emotionally.

I have tons of naked photos of myself on the web. And tons I haven't even scanned.

I actually have a photo album of naked people. Sure, many are of me, but most are naked snapshots of friends taken in beautiful locations. All very tasteful, No frontal. Just barrels of buttocks.

I figure anyone who would be my friend would have no problem posing naked.

It's not a requirement, but I think it's important.

I think nude bodies are beautiful Their forms are timeless. Like an exquisite fruit. Even a gnarled green pepper has an elegance to it.

It pains me that nakedness could ever be shameful. What other animal is ashamed of it's own skin? Does a Lion fear its mane?

How are the physical curves of a shoulder and back any more shameful than the curves of a sand dune? Or any less beautiful?

When I was spending more time with photography, I photographed nudes almost exclusively. Fashion fades. Styles change. But a beautiful nude 1000 years ago is beautiful today.

The current fashion may dictate whether large or small bosoms are in favor, but wombs keep cranking out variations of the same basic, beautiful shapes. A naked body bears none of the strings of culture. It is not shaped by attitude or philosophy. It is pure biology. Just god and matter.

Ooh. I like the way that sounds. God and matter. Maybe that's what frightens people about nudity. When you look upon a naked body you see something terrifying: god and matter.

June 16, nineteen99