We expend far too much effort in disguising the natural beauty of the human body, and the effects it has on us. What are we afraid of? That we are all animals, holding on to a semblance of civility by a fragile thread? Some of us do have self-control, and merely want to allow ourselves one of the few and most satisfying indulgences in an otherwise drab and painful existence. It's not so terrible a "sin" that it would make the Earth stop spinning on its axis, or cause the Sun to fall from the heavens. As an artist I am in rapture to Psyche, the envy of Beauty married to Eros.