Dropping The Other Shoe

I started the day in a hopeful mood; I just took my whole family out to vote, followed by a celebratory "democracy brunch" at our favorite local restaurant (which just happens to be owned and operated by immigrants). As an aside, the bill came out to about half of what I earn in an entire year as an artist these days (it wasn't that expensive, that's just how little I make). I know things are really bleak right now, but I genuinely see a bright future ahead of us. Perhaps I'm being idealistic (and I've certainly got my sleeves rolled up, because the work's not going to do itself), but I believe that as bad as things have gotten, it's finally galvanized enough of us to recognize the problems with our system, and motivate us to fix them.

But now, things have taken an ominous turn, and I'm feeling a bit disheartened again. Although it's not unrelated to politics, it (probably) has nothing to do with voting (although the administration's techno-fascist stranglehold on social media is enough to make me wonder - like how Zuckerberg de-platformed No Kings on Instagram during their nationwide protest last weekend). Blogger delisted one of my posts today. I'm going to gloss over the fact that it wouldn't even tell me which post - I had to sift through thousands of them to find it, but it turned out to be a post in which I had recently replaced a video with a subscription link (as discussed previously). Normally, in these circumstances, the best strategy is to lay low. But, out of frustration - and perhaps some level of spite - I pressed the button to request a review. Now, this is one of those cases where technically, I may indeed be in violation of the rule, but it's the rule itself that's unfair. The result, though, is that I may very well lose this blog in short order.

And it seems to me, that it's not much of a stretch to interpret this whole mess as my livelihood being threatened by AI - since its tendrils are being felt increasingly every day. Just recently, on JustForFans, I've been having content tags "recommended" on videos I've uploaded. What this says to me is that they have AI scanning every video uploaded (because there's no way they have enough biological eyeballs to do that work). And that terrifies me. Because no matter how many times the people behind JFF assure us otherwise, I do not trust for one second that this AI is not absorbing my content and feeding it into the hivemind. Without compensation (as the techbros grow ever fatter on our labor), and without my consent.

I know it's passe to even talk about privacy these days, but when mass video surveillance became ubiquitous, people (rightfully) had concerns about their privacy. Not only those who feared no longer being able to commit crimes in obscurity, either. I don't feel that I can even get into all the reasons right now, but the notion that "if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear" is bogus. Privacy is valuable even to people who aren't criminals, not least of which because it's easier to "profile" and discriminately target people the more you know about them. Also, the law isn't the only thing that can hurt people who don't conform. There are plenty of people who just want to do their own thing without hurting anybody, but also without being judged and shamed or singled out for their outlying behaviors.

Anyway, I've long felt that the dangers of mass surveillance were strongly mitigated by the limitations of human eyeballs. It doesn't matter so much that there's a camera on every street corner, because you couldn't possibly have someone watching the feed every second of every day. You run it on a loop, and if there's, say, a report of a crime, then law enforcement can pull up the records within so many days and specifically watch the relevant portion. Otherwise, all those hours of meaningless footage gets lost, as it should be.

AI changes that. AI can watch every second of every day. We're getting closer and closer to Big Brother. And that's scary enough, but knowing how imperfect AI is - false positives are rampant right now. It'd be bad enough if every violation, no matter how minor, on social media was litigated, but to think of how many innocent people are being swept up in these raids... I worry about the chilling effect this is going to have on people's speech. How long will somebody like myself - an honest artisan of the erotic arts - even be able to exist outside of the gated warrens of the adult sector, where people are treated like subhuman animals without rights or plain human dignity? Let alone, the limitations it places on the reach of my voice.

I have no leverage, but more importantly, I have no community. I want to join a union. I want to talk to other people who do the same kind of things I do, and have the same kind of issues I have. Granted, I'm a loner, so networking doesn't come naturally to me. But am I completely out of bounds in thinking that maybe we're being deliberately isolated, so that we can't work together? Usually, you can find discussion forums somewhere where people are talking about how crappy a product is (like a social media platform, for example). Every time I've had a problem with sites like Patreon, OnlyFans, and JustForFans, all I can pull up in search is ads for those services, and content (how are other people selling their stuff if every effort I've made to self-advertise - something that doesn't come naturally to me - is met with hardened resistance?). Even their subReddits are relatively empty, or devoid of any meaningful meta-commentary. Am I the only human being on this planet who produces pornography and has a rational, thinking mind? I know that can't be true, but I'd be inclined to believe it from what little I've been able to find out there...

In lieu of polishing this post, I'm just going to publish it, because I don't know how much longer I'm going to have a platform with which to raise my voice. :-/

Aiming For My Foot

I'm taking a risk in even bringing this up - not least of all because talking about it removes any plausible deniability (the defense of ignorance), but also because drawing attention to your own misdeeds is obviously a fool's errand. But I am nothing if not transparently honest (even to my own detriment), and I want to take this opportunity to point out an injustice, as well as plead my case. All of my posts on this blog are backed up, but that doesn't eliminate the serious inconvenience and, more importantly, considerable emotional harm it would cause me if this blog I've been writing on for the last 16(!) years suddenly vanished.

When I started up my computer today and navigated to the Blogger dashboard, I received a notice of changes to the Content Policy, which will become effective on December 16. A link to the policy provides no indication of what has changed, and since I don't have the policy memorized, I can but guess. (I'm sure that's a strategic choice by the company - to maintain a position of power by keeping the userbase in the dark). One part in particular stood out to me, although I have reason to believe that it is not a new rule - just one that I had most likely ignored in the past, because it had no relevance for me at the time.

Rest assured, adult content will still be permitted. Blogger teased revoking that privilege once before (over 10 years ago - where does the time go?) and, to its credit, backed down amid a shitstorm of justified outrage. The part that concerns me is the one that outlaws the monetization of adult content. First, some background.

I'm an artist. I'm also a free thinker. I started this blog 16 years ago to explore subjects that run adjacent to my artistic pursuit - pondering questions about the aesthetics of beauty, and the place of nudity and sexuality not just in art but society overall - as much as to share some of the art I produce. Back then, monetization wasn't even on the periphery of my vision. Nude self-portrait photography started as a private hobby, and only grew over the years into my life's passion.

It's only been in the past six years or so, with the proliferation of independent creator-oriented platforms like OnlyFans and its competitors, that I've been able to start getting back a fraction of the value I expend making the art I enjoy sharing with appreciative and like-minded audiences. Eight years ago, I participated in a personal project that involved posting my art daily for an entire year (in tribute to the first such project I engaged in, ten years prior, which marked my formal introduction to the exciting world of nude photography), right here on this blog.

Now, Blogger has never been the ideal platform for video content. I had toyed with the idea of selling my videos on XTube in the past. However, although I do not place limits on myself when it comes to exploring the gratifying realm of physical pleasure, my work is primarily oriented toward artistic nudity, and I resent having to resort to narrowly focused and frankly distasteful porn sites in order to share it. That said, there are no real alternatives. I can't post the kind of videos I produce on YouTube - the platform would never allow it.

In any case, the project in question occurred at a time after XTube had gone belly up, and before I started experimenting with OnlyFans and its ilk. It's only in the past year that I have gone back and begun replacing the videos I've posted here on this blog (itself an endeavor I've been working on for almost a full year now) with links to my subscription site on JustForFans. Which I am only now realizing is likely against the rules (albeit depending on your interpretation of the wording). But isn't that my prerogative? Why am I being singled out because my vocation involves nudity or sexuality? It's not like there aren't content filters in place.

This is a capitalist country. More so than a religious conservative haven, or a nanny state (because, unfortunately, neither conservatives nor liberals have the market cornered on sexual repression). We have individual liberties. If I choose to do this work (legally!), and share it with consenting audiences, why am I not permitted to advertise it, and seek new customers? We have an administration that is getting filthy rich by lying, cheating, and stealing, while dismantling our federal government and the world order. Yet I'm facing the possibility of losing 16 years of work, just because I thought I might be able to get a few bucks out of it - fairly? No, I don't accept that! I'm not going to comply in advance. If you want to take me down, then fuck you. But I'm not changing who I am.

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.

Gymnaesthetics

I'm coining a new term - gymnaesthetics. It combines the Greek word for nudity, "gymnos", with "aesthetics", the branch of philosophy that concerns itself with the nature of beauty. In a nutshell, gymnaesthetics is the study or appreciation of naked beauty. As a corollary, and taking cue from aestheticism - an art movement focused on aesthetics, or "art for art's sake" above and beyond any pragmatic function - the term gymnaestheticism may be used to refer to the artistic discipline of producing art that is focused on the perceived beauty of the unclothed human form.

In thousands of years of human civilization, and half a millennium removed from the Renaissance, I'm surprised I have to be the one to come along and invent this concept. Now, I know I'm not the first person in the history of mankind to appreciate the sight of a naked body. The subjective experience of human beauty is a nearly universal phenomenon. But in civilized society, there exists a stringent taboo on nudity. And are you really fully appreciating the human body if you're covering part of it up? Yet the clothes don't come off unless it's about sex. Why isn't there a community dedicated to naked beauty, as distinguished from porn?

Nudism comes close, but misses the mark with their politically correct rhetoric prioritizing self-acceptance. "Every body is beautiful" is a self-contradiction, because beauty is inherently selective. Any kind of emphasis on the visual aspect of seeing people naked (and the pleasure it can bring) is criticized by nudists as voyeurism. You're not permitted to openly acknowledge the positive impact of fitness, diet, grooming, etc on a person's appearance. Nudist beauty pageants have become more than passé - they're an outright taboo!

Of course, there are lots of people who appreciate naked bodies in a superficial manner, but it's always myopically centered around sexual recreation. I've never been one to deny the erotic element of naked beauty, but so much gets lost when sex is the primary focus. Sight is treated as merely an appetizer to the main course of touch. Appearance is only a means to the end of getting off. It's like going to the theater to catch the trailers, and then having to sit through a movie you didn't want to watch. Little care is given to the craft and artistry of presentation. People are paired off (or grouped), instead of sharing their delight publicly. It's interactive, when sometimes you want a more passive form of entertainment. And you have to strictly limit your audience, which also restricts your reach.

Is it so hard to let people interpret art however they want, while still letting the images stand for themselves? It's enough that the human body is considered "indecent" and inappropriate for public viewing - with artistic exceptions inconsistent, as well as few and far between. But you can't even comfortably honor gymnaesthetics in private, without carefully vetting potential observers, lest the wrong person get an eyeful, complain to peers and authorities, and then you face the prospect of social reprobation even if there isn't enough of an offense to support legal repercussions...

Cabin Fever

I'm beginning to suspect - and in retrospect, it's not at all surprising - that every year around Thanksgiving, I begin to suffer from a nudist version of cabin fever. It's been over a month now since I've been out naked in the fresh air and sunshine with any regularity, and my body is suffocating! When I don't get that release, those feelings bottle up inside, and my thoughts turn desperate. Completely unrealistic fantasies of being naked in public start to seem more and more appealing.

I'm not suggesting that I would do anything impulsive. But it's a struggle, and I wish I knew a way to vent that frustration. I could find a nudist meetup to join, but I'd have to travel really far, and in this season, hanging around with a bunch of mostly strangers indoors (doing karaoke? playing video games?) doesn't strike my fancy. (Especially if it's centered around drinking and socializing). That would be true with or without clothes. I definitely prefer activities with more... well, activity.

I'd love to hang out with other artists, and do some creative collaborations. But you know how that turned out last time. Why is it so hard to find community as a nude/erotic artist? All the art groups out there are allergic to nudity and eroticism, and if you search through "adult" channels, you just end up with people looking for hookups. Am I really that unique in this universe? (You don't have to answer that question, I already know the answer is yes). It's a funny feeling being alone on an overpopulated planet.

Some time last year, I came across an image on DeviantArt* that caught my attention. The subject of the image was public nudity - which, needless to say, I found intriguing. The image depicted a fully naked woman in the foreground, hiding in front of (from the camera's perspective) a tree, behind which were three other people, fully clothed, with their backs to the camera, standing on the shore of a lake. The middle figure was looking back over her shoulder toward the camera, adding a little bit of dramatic tension to the image. Does she see the naked person just at the top of the hill? (Spoiler: yes, she does).

But the wildest thing about the image was that, although it was surely taken nowhere near any place I've ever been (not even on the same continent, I'd wager), I instantly thought of a place I'd been to with similar geography - with a tree on a hill leading down to the rocky shore of the rightward bend of a lake. Naturally, I had to try recreating the image using my clone technique.

The hardest part of the shoot was bringing three different outfits (complete with shoes!) to the lake, when I'm used to bringing one outfit and not even wearing it. No, wait. That's a lie. The hardest part was actually putting on those clothes, when it was so hot I was already sweating in just my birthday suit! I tell you, I don't understand how these textiles do it.

*A cursory search reveals that, unsurprisingly, the source image was stolen from a porn site. To be more specific, the model's name is Sylva N., and the image appears on nude-in-public.com (as part of a set). I wish somebody would pay me to walk around naked in public, while they take pictures. Sounds like my dream job! Except that it's always "young girls", isn't it? Which I am not opposed to (obviously), but even if I were a girl, I'm not exactly young anymore.

But suppose I were a girl. Even then, at around age 19 or so, I wouldn't have been in the right headspace to do this sort of thing. Which is not to say that "that's too young". I just wish I lived in a culture where I could have found my calling earlier (before it was too late). A culture that didn't cause me to feel like I had to hide my shameful dalliances, taking my clothes off in secret during adolescence. A culture that would have let me explore opportunities to be naked outdoors and in social situations, outside of a strictly sexual relationship. A culture that didn't judge and ridicule the artistry of eroticism, and discriminate against anyone who dares to pursue a career in that field.

I'd be really curious to find out what goes on behind the scenes of these "nude in public" photoshoots. Isn't it funny how they always take place in other countries (at least since we lost San Francisco), despite the United States (undeserved) reputation for freedom? I know it's part of the fantasy that a gorgeous chick can walk around town naked without repercussion (and they kind of can - even a gorgeous dude would have issues with people feeling intimidated and reading it as sexual aggression). But I want to know.

Were there any arrests involved in the making of these photo sets? Fines that had to be paid? Awkward chats with law enforcement? How many of the strangers encountered genuinely reacted either positively or nonchalantly, and how many were upset or confrontational? How many people were approached and asked for their consent to be depicted in these images (those that are recognizable), and how many declined?

Where was the shoot conducted? I understand the importance of privacy, but was this a city or a country that's generally permissive of this sort of thing? Did the participants choose a place they know well, or one that's completely unfamiliar to them, so that there would be less of a chance of interacting with the locals ever again?

You never get any information about the women in these shoots, either. As a fellow internet model, I understand and respect the need for anonymity. But even in general terms, I'd love to get to know them a little bit more. Do they do a lot of porn shoots? Or was this a crazy, once-in-a-lifetime stunt? What kind of attitude do they have about being seen naked by strangers? Do they have any experience with nudism (whether social or solitary), or are they legitimate exhibitionists?

Again, in general terms, what walks of life do these women come from? Are they all starving university students? Budding artists? Raging perverts? The desperately poor? How did they come across this opportunity? And how much does a gig like this pay? I feel like I've put in the work as an artist to deserve to know more about the back end of these endeavors, because I'd love to be involved in producing them. It sounds weird to say this, but I feel like this is just the kind of thing I was put on this Earth to do.

But I have no community. I'm an isolated node in a detached society. There's no realistic way to get in touch with these people. And I'm not in any rush to hop on a plane, for the purpose of committing public indecency in a remote village in the Siberian wilderness, anyway. No matter how much fun that sounds like it would be. I'm a fruit just waiting to be plucked. And I'm not getting any riper by the day.

Hard Shadow

Despite how it looks, it bears noting that you can't actually see my erect penis in this image - just a spot on the ground where it has prevented the sunlight from reaching. Which begs the question, is it the organ that's indecent, or is it the idea that the organ represents? In which case, the offense is in your head, not in the picture. And those ideas aren't immutable. They are a product of conditioning. Can you imagine how frustrating it is for those of us innocents who are stuck living in a world that insists that our beautiful bodies, and the life-affirming pleasures they can generate, are an abomination to be scorned and hidden away? Why must we suffer, for the evil that's in your hearts? Pray, tell me. Because that's not what freedom looks like to me.

Eroticism vs. Gross Anatomy

I'm not trying to disavow our most basic impulses, but there's so much more to erotic art than "gross anatomy". And I don't mean you have to cover up and be coy. You can show the anatomy. But there are more parts of the human body that are attractive than just the genitals. And there are ways to frame the genitals, to groom them to be more presentable.

Although it has been documented that arousal suppresses our disgust reaction to some degree (why else would anybody want to lick another person's anus?), aesthetics don't go out the window just because our sex drives are engaged. It's about more than just looking at unkempt body parts that are normally hidden from our view. There's a psychology that goes into what we find alluring; a way to stimulate our bodies and minds simultaneously, for a more intense and lingering reaction. That's what erotic art attempts to evoke. It doesn't always succeed. After all, there is a heavily subjective element involved. But isn't it worth the try?

Some people want to keep their dirty magazines separate from the paintings hanging on their wall. Isn't it the very concept of "pin-ups" to merge the two? There's a delicate balance to be achieved in creating a portrait that can stir the loins, while also possessing enough taste and class to warrant hanging above the fireplace. Some say it can't be done. But it makes for a thrilling artistic challenge.

Filter Emojis

Advertising nude photography is challenging, to say the least - I could say a whole lot more about that, but that's not the purpose of this post. Suffice to say, it's a sensitive subject; one that not everyone is comfortable with, carries a lot of stigma, often runs afoul of community standards, and may sometimes even come into conflict with the law (since we humans weirdly have a complex about the bodies we all inhabit, and love to punish people just for looking at them). Nevertheless, while it hasn't been a groundswell by any means, the curiosity I've been met with when hinting about the focus of my artistic work is greater than zero. So, I've been toying with the idea of releasing a gallery portfolio of some of what I feel are my best and most marketable images. Not to shove in anybody's faces, but to provide as a voluntary option for those with some interest.

Of course, I would want it to be as accessible as possible, while also not undermining my mission statement, which is to exhibit the beauty (and sometimes eroticism) of the human body, absent arbitrary and superficial taboos surrounding our anatomy. Toward that end, I've been brainstorming ways to categorize and filter my images, so as to enable viewers to cater the experience of browsing my portfolio to their individual comfort level - so that general audiences could "step into the gallery" (metaphorically speaking, as it would almost certainly be done online), confident that they're not going to be exposed to anything they'd prefer not to see, while at the same time giving bolder viewers the option to see more.

And I think I've come up with a system that's fun, but effective, while also being inoffensive - which is to say, it won't require the most sensitive of viewers to endure a bunch of language or symbolism describing or depicting the very things they wish to avoid. It's based around the usage of common emojis to symbolize levels of exposure that will be encountered in my photography, so viewers can choose how much they're comfortable with seeing. Now, I could have gone with a food-based theme, based on popular trends. But I decided instead to use a space/weather/science theme, which is a little bit less ribald (I mean, looking at symbols of peaches and eggplants is pretty suggestive all by itself), but allows for a pretty effective gradation of exposure and coverage of themes. Plus, I relate more to science and weather than food. Anyway, tell me what you think of it. I'll provide examples of each category, both for demonstration, and because I think that will be fun.

[Cloud] (example)
"Fully dressed."
(Basically just a background/default category, but could describe some of my fashion/glamour portraits).

[Mostly Cloudy/Partly Sunny] (example)
"Dressed, but in minimal clothing."
(This could be useful for describing some of my skimpier outfits, including swimsuits and underwear.)

[Partly Cloudy/Mostly Sunny] (example)
"Effectively naked, but with the sensitive bits covered."
(This would be a great category for the safest of my nudes; the kind where I'm either posed coyly or with an object or feature of the environment blocking the view.)

I imagine that the above categories would be revealed by default, since they show nothing scandalous, or that would get anybody into trouble. And though that definitely includes blatant implied nudity, that is the name of the game, after all.

[Crescent Moon] (example)
"Partially exposed buttocks."
(These are relatively safe nudes - all things considered - but slightly more scandalous and less coy than the Partly Cloudy category.)

[Full Moon] (example)
"Fully exposed buttocks."
(Pretty self-explanatory. Definitely cheeky, if you'll forgive the pun, but still tamer than full frontal nudity. This is stuff they don't even bother to censor on Naked and Afraid.)

[Sun] (example)
"Full frontal nudity."
(Here's the bread and butter of my artistic showcase. I think many of my frontal nudes are relatively innocuous, but society has this weird hangup about genitals. Go figure.)

[Dark Side of the Moon] (example)
"Explicit nudity from the back."
(Because sometimes you can see everything from the back - and I don't mean just the butt. And I feel like that's, in a way, more explicit than seeing it from the front.)


The next two categories probably won't be included in a public gallery. Not because I don't have a lot of great art that crosses the line into explicit eroticism, but because anything that could credibly be described as "pornographic" runs the added risk of legal complications. But I include them here for the sake of completion.

[Star] (example)
"Absolute exposure - nothing is left to the imagination."
(Reserved for images that feature graphic nudity, in a way that is less likely to be considered tastefully erotic, and more likely to be interpreted as outright pornographic.)

[Rocket] (example)
"Contains explicit themes of sexuality."
(I've gotta have a category for my beautiful erection photos, right? I mean, not for public consumption, I guess - but theoretically speaking...).

Finally, we have three more designations that could be added as modifiers. The first two to temper the severity of a given category, and the last to enhance it. I could imagine using them to gently guide viewers to step outside of their comfort zone (only with their consent), or in the last case, to caution viewers about particularly arresting images (with the option, of course, to disable such warnings if desired).

[Fog] (example)
"Anatomy is visible but partially obscured."
(There are always going to be images that straddle the line or defy categorization. This way I can denote those exceptions without excluding or misidentifying them.)

[Telescope] (example)
"Anatomy is visible, but only from a distance."
(Because I feel that at a certain distance, even full-on nudity loses much of its sting, and that fact deserves recognition.)

[Microscope] (example)
"Anatomy is visible up close and in detail."
(I don't know how many close-up shots I would include in a public gallery, but they definitely pack more of a punch, and I feel that deserves its own warning.)

Anyway, this is just a proof of concept. There's still the matter of implementing such a filtering system in the context of a photo gallery, which I'm not sure yet how I'm gonna manage (I'm better with ideas than implementation). But I really like the concept. I think it's playful, and I think it suits my needs quite well. And it's fun to look through my photos and figure out how each one would be categorized under this system. There are borderline cases of course, but I think it's fairly comprehensive!

Pride and Shame

I'm not immune to social stigma; in fact, I'm pretty sensitive to it. So it's definitely a little embarrassing to think that of all things - particularly in light of my intellect and upbringing - I might be remembered (in the final analysis) for how much I like[d] to take pictures of myself naked. But listen, it was a fun and harmless hobby that I initially kept to myself (and, well, internet strangers seeking out that sort of thing, whom I would never meet or have a conversation with in real life), but that turned out to have a rich artistry that I've come to appreciate deeply.

Yes, it's a fine line - tiptoeing between the thrill of transgressing a taboo (while shining light on the natural beauty of something that carries undue stigma within polite society - it's because the taboo feels unjust that I delight in transgressing it; I'm not trying to tear down the fabric of society here) and crossing over into the territory of scandalous indecency. Actually, it can be an exciting dance to perform; and I won't lie, my studies of the aesthetics of the human body have taken me in various directions, in the absence of certain preconceived notions about its "proper" depiction in the realm of fine art, denuded (if you will) of any overt sexual connotation.

But I understand context and audience, and I maintain that there is a level on which nude art may be appreciated, not completely sterilized of its sometimes erotic undertones, but by a somewhat more reserved and sophisticated eye - the way that Michelangelo's David or the Venus de Milo can stand proudly (and publicly) in a museum, to the adoration of any who pass by.

That's not to say that I'm placing myself alongside the greats of art history. I don't even create beauty; I just steal it from nature. In the grand scheme, I don't consider myself to be a terribly accomplished artist. However, I believe I do very well within my limited means. I have no classical training, and mental illness constitutes a significant obstacle to my ability to grow and collaborate within a larger community. That said, I've been working on honing my craft consistently for the past fifteen years, and there has been considerable improvement.

I may not be the best right now that I will ever be, but I also have to consider that age is beginning to place its own limitations on my abilities to work both in the physically demanding capacity of a self-portrait model (which involves a lot of muscle tension and a surprising amount of running around), as well as that of a photo processing editor, which involves a mind-numbing volume of repetitive actions performed while sitting stiffly in front of a monitor - hour after hour, day after day, week after week, and so on, however long it takes until the work is done.

I don't know if I'll ever be better than I am now, but I know that I am better than I was in the past, and even if the best I'll ever be isn't good enough to warrant any kind of critical attention, or even justify the pride I feel at what I've accomplished (knowing every step of the journey I've taken to reach this point), it's all I've got. It's all I have to show for myself. Whether it's enough or not - whether I'm enough or not - it represents all that I am. It's the most sincere and original product to come from my passionate and creative mind thus far in my life. For better or worse, you can take it or leave it. I've done what I can. How you regard it - how you regard me, and the deficit between your expectations and my reality - is up to you.

But please be kind, because I can't rewind.

Afterword: I wrote this as a creative exercise while brainstorming ways to introduce my family to my nude photography. Not that it's any big secret that this is part of who I am and what I've done with my life. It's just that, when you start taking naked pictures of yourself, it's something that you instinctively compartmentalize from other aspects of your life.

Like, it was originally something I did for my girlfriend when I was a teenager, which makes this all a little bit awkward. But my interest in the art form (which emerged very early on) has evolved far beyond the purposes of my private sex life. I see myself as a legitimate artist, and not just a "purveyor of smut". And the people who are important to me - I'd love to fold them more into that, so they can share with me in the pride of my successes (such as they are), the way people in just about any other line of work (and especially the creative arts) can do.

That is, assuming I'm not deluding myself about whether there is any merit to the art I produce beyond its superficial value as masturbation fodder. If I were to create a great work of nude art - that is not simply erotic (although it may be that), but is technically accomplished and aesthetically satisfying - does it deserve a position on the refrigerator? Or does it only belong inside somebody's locker? I guess you could say that's my goal as an artist - to take pin-ups out of the locker, and put them on the refrigerator. But I have to ask myself, what is my motivation? Am I trying to legitimize an unfairly stigmatized genre? Am I trying to defang a python, and domesticate it so it can be kept as a pet? Or is this all just an expression of my exhibitionism - the desire to display... well, desire out in the open?

But it's not as though I'm unconcerned with matters of taste and aesthetics. And I don't say that just to make excuses. I think people should cringe at the thought of low effort porn being exposed to the light of day (in the privacy of your bedroom, however, you should feel free to go wild). While at the same time, I feel that a masterpiece of artistic eroticism should be plastered on billboards without an ounce of shame. And, I mean, it kind of already is, if you look at the glamour and advertising industries. But there's still this completely arbitrary taboo on nudity. Unclothed bodies can be just as tastefully artistic as a pop star in skin-tight gold lamé (and moreso, if you ask the nudists); it's not about how much is shown, but how it's shown.

Anyway, I'm undecided as to whether I should try to aim for relatability and address the elephant in the room ("I know it sounds weird, but here's what I think is great about taking off my clothes and trying to make art"), or if it would be better to take a more dignified approach and not give voice to those doubts, and just let the people who think it's weird feel like they're the ones who are weird for thinking that in the first place ("if you'd ever studied art history, you'd know this is normal"). I could see the merit in either approach.

Mixed Messaging

As a creative-minded photographic artist interested in online activism, I appreciate seeing the advocacy images people come up with and share on social media. I even like to join in with my own on occasion. But sometimes, I have to shake my head at what I find online. Take the image below, which suffers from a disjointed tone. Ostensibly promoting topfreedom, it talks of equality, but seems to lack self-awareness. The fine print at bottom (a pretentious six lines of copyright for what effectively boils down to a composite of two stolen images) suggests a nudist or body-positive interpretation, but the choice of two impossibly beautiful models undermines its overall message (tip: it's possible to pick attractive models who are nevertheless not quite so out of the ordinary).

At a glance, one would be forgiven for mistaking this image to be a simple piece of eye candy. And don't get me wrong, these two people look incredible (this would not be a bad advertisement for bisexuality, if not also for crippling self-consciousness and body image disorders). There's nothing wrong with admiring their chiseled physiques. Except that, again, the fine print employs typical nudist jargon to cast aspersions on those who would share the image for more superficial purposes. It's softcore porn masquerading as nudist advocacy, that tries to grasp legitimacy by condemning pornography. Amazingly, the post manages to alienate both of its potential audiences. Nudists will be annoyed by the amplification of unrealistic beauty standards, while porn hunters will be put off by the admonishment of their "sexualized" motives (although let's be honest - they don't give a shit). The only cause this banner flies for is skin-thirsty hypocrites hiding behind the purifying sheen of nudism.

The final squirt of whipped cream on top of this debacle of a wannabe topfreedom meme is the fact that the two photos are specifically pointed out to be of unknown origin, while the person who edited the piece together spends three lines advertising their name and social media links. I respect the creativity involved with pairing text and images together to get across an idea (in another life, I might have been a clever ad-man), but it's ironic in this case, not only in that the result is so lackluster as to cast shade on the author's desire to take credit for it, but that the meat of the post - the two photographs - remain uncredited. Granted, these sorts of images tend to get passed around a lot, and it can be difficult to find their source. Then again, an inquiry on Reddit could potentially yield an unexpectedly fruitful result. But I'd be surprised if the author went to any trouble at all to track them down. Despite the fact that a journey of this kind can be a lot of fun. (It's not much, but a literal 30 second search on Google turned up the name of actor Kellan Lutz - and that's a start).

Can we agree to try just a little bit harder next time?

Undercarriage (An Artistic Exception)

Every so often, while I'm bent over combing my hair out after a shower, I'll get a glimpse of myself in the mirror we have propped up in the bathroom, and the sight will catch my eye. I find it particularly intriguing, for whatever reason, when my genitalia is hanging extra low. Such an important part of my anatomy, so seemingly tenuously attached to my body!

It is a prurient sight, perhaps, but I'm not trying to photograph it in a vulgar manner, which would be all too easy to do. I just find it an interesting view, as a photographer of the human body, from an artistic and even scientific perspective, almost more so than a sexual one. The simple fact is, you don't usually get to see this angle because of our gymnophobic attitudes and sexual taboos.

Now, if we're being honest, not everyone looks good from this angle - not even I look good from this angle every single time. But I groom myself and photograph myself with the intent to create artistic bodyscapes that look pleasing enough to eat dinner off of. And when I accomplish that goal, there isn't a single reason in the world that adequately justifies preventing me from sharing that view with interested others. And (contrary to the specious "nobody wants to see that" argument) there are, always, interested others - if you know where to look.

The Voyeur's Exhibition

This clone shot was conceived and completed all in the space of about an hour (with a pause in the middle for breakfast). I woke up to the noise of heavy machinery across the street, and stepped up on the furniture to take a peek out the window (covered on bottom for privacy, but open at top for natural light). As an artist who is my own muse, I often wonder how I look from a third person perspective, and I thought that this would be an interesting pose to photograph - so I did. There was some empty space in the frame, so I decided to throw in a clone.

It still amazes me how much of a taboo society puts on human genitalia. This is a beautiful portrait of the human body. You may or may not find it arousing (it's certainly fine if you do), but it's tasteful - not vulgar, or sexually explicit in any way. Why do certain parts of our bodies have this stigma, that they have to stay covered up all the time and hidden from general audiences? This isn't pornography. Yet we treat it as if it were.

Anyway, I think it's interesting that this is another in a long line of portraits from throughout my career that blurs the distinction between voyeurism and exhibitionism. I'm the one peeking out the window, curious to see what's going on outside, while staying hidden from view. Yet, I'm also the one who's naked - the thing voyeurs are typically on the lookout for. The fact that this whole situation (which really happened, I didn't make it up just for the shot) is being photographed and then shared with others makes it a wholly exhibitionist depiction of a voyeuristic situation - we're not seeing what the voyeur is seeing, we're seeing the voyeur.

I guess that's what happens when you're a nudist, but you're also an artist, and you understand the appeal of both voyeurism and exhibitionism. The really fun thing to imagine, though, is that this sort of thing might be going on when you're out on the street. That face in the window, almost wholly obscured by a curtain? That could be a naked person in there! And what's more, we always imagine (well, the prudes do) that it's some nosey old lady doing the snooping. But what if that naked person in there was actually attractive? It sounds like a fantasy, and the odds might be against it, but take it from a nude model who was in that very position just today - I'm telling you, it happens.

And as an artist, I make it my purpose to go the next step further, and show you. You're welcome.

Porn Is Popular

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

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

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

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

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

Opposing Government Regulation of Porn Use

Modern politics is like a creepy stalker. I don't want to have anything to do with it. I just wish it felt the same way about me.

Recent news has been targeting me on two separate fronts, as a gender-nonconforming individual who occasionally stars in sexually explicit media. All of these anti-trans bills going around are legitimately heartbreaking (almost as much as the relative silence they're being met with, outside of dedicated trans activist circles), but what I want to talk about today is these attempts at enacting stricter regulations on sexual expression.

But first, let me direct your attention to the fact that in both of these cases, the issue is disingenuously being framed as a measure designed to protect children (when the literal opposite is true), because that is absolutely the best way to silence opposition. It's clear to me that any bill or policy that mentions children should be held under the highest scrutiny.

"The political figure of the innocent and imperiled child just has a never-ending purchase on American politics ... [it] essentially shuts down debate because it immediately creates a binary in which anybody who disagrees with you is [a] perverted groomer." - Whitney Strub, associate professor of history at Rutgers University [source]

This time, the forces of chastity are pressuring the government to require you to transmit your ID online (opening yourself up to the risk of identity theft, and the possibility for discrimination and blackmail), just to watch porn. And they're disguising it as age verification, because who can argue with that? I've struggled in the past to explain why these sorts of restrictions are an egregious assault on our rights, but the way they're framed (as "protecting" children) makes it very hard to do, and that's what makes these bills so insidious.

Others are better at constructing effective arguments against the meat and potatoes of these bills (click the Guardian and FSC links above), but what gets to me is that the most specious argument (which most stances, for or against, tend to agree on) is also the hardest one to refute, on emotional grounds. It just kills me that, in what hails itself to be the land of free speech and civil protest, I can't find a way to say "the perceived harm of a person under the age of 18 being exposed to pornography is exaggerated, and most certainly does not justify an unconstitutional overreach into individual liberty and privacy" without feeling like I'm shooting myself in the foot, because nobody is going to take me seriously.

But I do believe that. And I'm not dangerously insane. I agree that it's reasonable to take precautions to prevent young children from being exposed to hardcore pornography - the industry already does that. On the other hand, discovering porn is practically a rite of passage for older kids who actively seek it out. Sexuality doesn't switch on at 18. Maybe we shouldn't encourage this, but it happens. And it doesn't destroy their lives. And though porn isn't the best education, it's not like we do a good job of educating them otherwise.

Whatever harm is caused by watching porn (and believe me, these harms are exaggerated by a sex-negative bias), I simply don't think it's reasonable to unquestionably go to such lengths as violating people's Constitutional rights to freedom of expression and privacy, all to prevent some teenager from consenting to something the law doesn't permit them to consent to. This is textbook nanny state politics. Why is the "party of small government" not opposing this?

I mean, it seems particularly ludicrous to me, because I look after kids, and I don't want them exposed to that kind of material at their age, but they're exposed to it anyway, outside of my control. And you know what? They're just fine. But I can't say "the kids are alright" without making it sound like I don't care about the kids - and I absolutely do! But even if I think it's too much too early (not that the standard approach of "too little too late" is any better), I still don't think it justifies Draconian measures of prevention, that are informed by and contribute to the deadly stigma of sex work. What makes it even more frustrating, is that I can't prevent these kids from voluntarily exposing themselves to this material (no matter what restrictions we enact, you cannot kill the human spirit), yet I'm not realistically given the option of introducing them to the healthful benefits of nonsexual nudism. It's backwards!

But make no mistake, this has nothing to do with kids watching porn. This is puritans who have a categorical opposition to pornography. When they talk about the negative impact on kids being exposed to pornography, they're talking about everybody. They just know that focusing on kids is the way they're gonna get average people to agree with them. This is how we swallow discriminatory stereotypes about pornography - which is a vast and varied medium.

In a truly free society, if somebody else doesn't like porn, they have no control over your choice to watch it. In our society, the government will be pressured by religious conservatives to do whatever it takes to discourage you from watching porn, and punish you if you go through with it anyway. And it works, because we will "happily endure almost any curtailment of liberty for the benefit of the most precious treasure of the people" - the innocent, defenseless child.

Is Social Media Conspiring Against Nudism?

There's been some talk about the recent suspension of Bare Oaks Family Naturist Park's Twitter account, and it seems to be raising the same concerns I've seen again and again from nudists online - that there is a conspiracy among social media platforms to censor and discriminate against legitimate, nonsexualized depictions of nudism, even where explicit pornography (often described as "filth", which betrays the sex-negative prejudice of the people making this claim) is given a free pass. Allow me a moment to attempt to ferret out the kernel of truth that resides at the heart of this myth.

Unfortunately, it's not unusual for even legitimate nudist accounts on social media to face the threat of suspension from time to time. The fact is, no matter what nudists say about the innocent purity of nonsexualized nudity, this is not a mainstream view. So, posting about nudity (especially if it involves posting images of nudity) is always going to put you at risk. That's why this is a problem nudism has, that other interests like sports or cooking or gaming don't.

Now, every time this happens, people jump to conclusions. Everybody wants to believe they're being persecuted by an organized adversary with an oppressive agenda. It makes you feel important. And it provides an excuse for every setback you encounter. But whether it's the fashion industry, oil and gas companies who feel threatened by environmentalist reform, or the alleged billion dollar pornography empire - the truth is, nudism just isn't common enough or influential enough to be targeted in this way.

Twitter is somewhat unique in that, as a mainstream social media platform, it permits explicit pornography (for now). As such, it creates a rare environment that allows for the development of a belief that there is a conspiracy specifically aimed (for some reason) at non-sexualized depictions of nudity. What this view fails to acknowledge, however, is just how often pornography - moreso than simple nudity - is placed first and foremost in the line of fire, whenever freedom of expression is up for debate. That pornography thrives in spite of this is not evidence that a powerful force is suppressing nudism. It just means that porn is really popular. Humans may be able to survive just fine with or without clothing, but without a sex drive, humanity would go extinct in a single generation.

On more conservative platforms like Facebook and Instagram, nudists will point to the fact that innocent depictions of nudity often get censored while heavily sexualized images of scantily clad women are ignored. I agree that this is evidence of discrimination against nudity. But not against nudism. For that to be the case, these platforms would have to permit nude images as long as they are overtly sexualized, and these are platforms that absolutely do not allow explicit pornography. It's not a value judgment that's being made here, about the legitimacy of sexual expression versus the purity of the human body. It's simply a matter of logistics, in an increasingly machine-driven landscape of content filtering.

I've spent years on art sharing sites where you could post the most stunning artistic portrait of a sexual act, tastefully framed, but explicitly depicted, and have it deleted, while countless people's low effort snapshots of their nether regions go untouched by censors. They're not judging the quality or value of your art. They're just coldly enforcing the rules. It would be great if we could construct a filtering algorithm that allows for consideration of artistic intent and technical construction. But the simple fact is that this is impossible. These qualities are highly subjective, and hard to gauge. The best we can do is determine whether an image contains explicit nudity or sexuality, or not.

That those two things are often conflated is an unfortunate problem, but again - it's hard to judge whether a nude body is being "sexualized" or not. What's more, society has determined that nudity is more offensive than the mere suggestion of sexuality (however overt). You can take issue with that view (personally, I think they're both fine), but it's a society-wide issue, not the secret agenda of an elite cabal, or a personal morality coincidentally shared by a few competing CEOs.

So how does a legitimate nudist account end up getting suspended on a platform that permits explicit sexuality? The answer will vary on a case-by-case basis, and very few (if any) people have all the facts in a particular case. But if you think it's only nudist accounts that get censored, then you're not paying very much attention to how much trouble porn accounts have (and it's my experience that nudists give porn accounts very little attention beyond hitting the block button and gleefully contributing to their difficulties staying afloat). That there are still plenty of porn accounts out there at any given time, proves no more than the fact that with every suspension, there are still plenty of nudist accounts out there, too.

But what, specifically, can get a nudist account suspended? Sometimes mistakes are made - both by the account holder, and also the algorithm that flags it, as well as the staff that reviews those flags. Let's assume the account in question is above suspicion of behavioral infractions - harassment and the like. Bare Oaks is a highly respected naturist resort - and one that I would very much like to visit someday. I'm confident that they have conducted themselves with nothing but the utmost professionalism.

A common issue that can lead to suspension is improper filtering of sensitive content. Sometimes, nudists think that images of nudity shouldn't be filtered because they're not pornographic. This is a valid position to argue, but it doesn't align with the guidelines for any community I'm aware of outside of nudism, besides websites specifically designed for the sharing of explicit images. I applaud you if you want to make a stand for your beliefs, but you should be aware of the repercussions when the governing body disagrees with you. Alternatively, accounts sometimes post improperly filtered content by mistake, by not being aware that your banner image or profile picture can be viewed publicly.

I'm willing to give Bare Oaks the benefit of the doubt, because I believe they are seasoned enough to understand all these things. I had not been following Bare Oaks on Twitter, so I do not know what type of content they were posting, but Planet Nude's reassuringly sensible account of the incident provides a very plausible cause. According to the author, Bare Oaks had recently posted material promoting good old-fashioned family naturism (which is consistent with what I know of Bare Oaks). It's also plausible that Twitter would have flagged it in a misguided and overzealous attempt to stamp out child exploitation. Mystery solved.

Look, I get it. Growing up in a safe environment with casual exposure to nudity is healthy - not harmful - for children. There are arguments to be made about whether it is approriate to depict this aspect of nudism publicly. Personally, I believe that censoring family-oriented nudism does more harm than good. But I think we should address the relevant issue, instead of framing it in vague terms as ammunition against a phantom menace. Does this incident support the conclusion that social media is engaged in a conspiracy against nudism? Or is it just bad code influenced by a gymnophobic society that, among other things, remains unconvinced that nudist accounts should be allowed to post images of children?

It's unfortunate that social media platforms are often unable to parse sexually explicit media from nonsexual depictions of nudity. It's not impossible to do - there are websites that have already figured it out. However, these websites still do not generally permit nudity involving minors, no matter how innocent. It sucks that the human body, by itself, is considered pornographic by default, especially when heavily sexualized depictions of clothed people are not. Raising awareness of these problems is a noble effort. But waving your hands about invisible enemies is not the way to make progress. Nudists aren't being singled out. Their unconventional lifestyle is just placing them in the crosshairs of a broader societal issue - fear of the human body, and its relationship to sex. Taking it personally ("they're targeting nudists!") or taking it out on other media you don't like ("why aren't they targeting porn?") isn't going to help.

DeviantArt or Deviant Porn?

It may just be a passing phase, but I've been growing a little bored of Twitter lately. I actually started working through my buildup of (literally) hundreds of notifications on DeviantArt, and it's fun spending some time back on that site again (although browsing all those pictures on a widescreen monitor can be a strain on the eyes). I follow some talented nude artists on Twitter, but it's a very different experience.

Courting "engagement" is so tedious. I've grown accustomed to the sort of response my work has received on sites like Flickr and DeviantArt. On Twitter, it's often like speaking to an empty auditorium. I miss the days of the old photo sharing sites, before it was all about "gaming the algorithm". Things were a lot more straightforward; your profile was understood to be the place where you showed off your work, and you had a separate section for other people's stuff that you liked. Nowadays, everything gets jumbled together on your feed, and the pace of updates is so rapid you can't possibly keep up, and the things you post lose relevance after 24 hours, if they were lucky enough to be seen by anyone in the first place.

Anyway, one thing that strikes me about DeviantArt is just how much fetishism there is. Some of it is legitimately weird, but honestly, I find that it inspires my erotic imagination in a way that I realize I haven't felt for a while. Fine art can just be so dry sometimes, you know? And so pretentious. Whatever you might say about the forward-thinking NFT community, it feels really cultish. Well, I thought it would be fun to list some of the most popular fetishes I've been encountering on DeviantArt, just because documenting people's sexual interests seems fascinating to me. Must be Kinsey's influence. So this is what I've been seeing a lot of as I browse through people's lists of favorites, with some light commentary:

*kidnapping - A little bondage is fine if you ask me, but a fixation on this sort of thing is a little bit concerning.

*feet - I can appreciate some of this material, but fetishists always seem to take it too far.

*vore - No thank you, lol.

*genderswap captions (sometimes involving age regression) - I think the sissification angle is problematic (feminization isn't humiliating to me), but there's a lot of creativity on display here, and some of it is legitimately stimulating.

*kids - No comment, since you can't say anything on this topic that isn't either compelled speech or suicide by words, and neither of those two options sounds very appealing to me.

*giants/minis - To each their own, but I think this is just weird...

*cartoons/rule 34 fanart - I'm all for people using their imaginations to sexualize pop culture icons. Also, with regards to the complaint of "ruining one's childhood", part of growing up is realizing how much sexuality permeates nearly everything we do in life. Get over it.

*dickgirls - You might be surprised to hear this coming from me, considering my gender-bending tendencies, but I find the juxtaposition of a penis on a fully female body off-putting. ::shrugs::

*forced nudity/exhibitionism (including clothed/nude mixed groups) - As a nudist, I obviously don't relate to the humiliation aspect, but otherwise this kind of content is right up my alley.

*sleeping bodies and simulated corpses - I'm trying very hard not to judge people for their sexual inclinations, but this is another one that concerns me a bit.

*femdom - You know I think girl power rocks, but some of these fantasies take it to a humorously unrealistic extreme. Like, men being kept as pets and subservient sex slaves to women. Or women treating men's balls - literally - as punching bags. Just as an example.

*spanking - I think I enjoy the threat more than the execution. The anticipation of submission and exposure (and sometimes the abuse of authority) thrills me more than the pain or the bruising.

*small dick energy - Like, guys who get off on being teased about their size. I'm concerned that this sort of thing could contribute to insecurity, but for those who enjoy it, I'm happy that they can turn what could be considered a deficiency into something that brings them pleasure.

I'm actually surprised I don't see more furry/bestial content (I know it's on there), but you can find just about anything if you dig deep enough (even, surprisingly, sexually explicit material that I thought was prohibited by the rules). All of this is, of course, in addition to lots of gay material (which is great - I might prefer girls, but I like to see equal representation) and the usual heaps of naked or scantily clad women that straight men like to ogle (which is also great).

The Incident With Patreon

or, How Patreon Mishandled Me

Setting The Scene

I've tried to write this post many times. Each time, the wound was still too raw. But I want there to be an account of what Patreon did to me - told from my perspective - because the way they treated me was not only unethical, but unacceptable in a civilized society. I don't want to allow their behavior to be swept under the rug - as countless creators (including nude artists) still use the platform, feeding a behemoth that may tolerate them at their convenience, exploiting their labor for personal gain, but in truth cares no more for them, or the value of the art they produce, than a fly on its back.

One of the reasons this post is so hard to write is that I have to provide a proper context for my experience - without, obviously, writing a full autobiography. Otherwise, it could easily be dismissed as another whining account of a creator complaining about getting burned because they didn't follow the rules. You must understand that I have been producing nude and erotic art, and sharing it online, consistently and without hiatus since 2008. I have never once been banned from a website - until now - because I make a habit of reading the rules of every site I use, and respecting those rules even when I disagree with them (and I do have my disagreements). My behavior on Patreon was no exception.

I first learned about Patreon from a fellow artist on DeviantArt. What piqued my curiosity was the potential to monetize the labor I'd been passionately engaging in on a pro bono basis for over a decade. So I gave it a try. In the summer of 2019, I finally transitioned from being an experienced amateur self-portrait photographer to a professional artist. My Patreon account began to grow only very slowly, but it gave me a sense of purpose, and it reinforced my work ethic. I quickly began producing more and better content than ever before, with a much higher turnover between production and distribution than I had previously been used to.

From the very start, I acknowledged and observed Patreon's restrictions on pornographic imagery - as I had already been doing on DeviantArt for several years. I was careful to separate the work I produced, sharing (and referencing) only nonsexual, nudist-friendly media on the platform. The only run-in I had with Patreon's Orwellian-named "Trust & Safety" team (which polices content violations), was early on (in the fall of my first year) due to a misunderstanding. I had published censored versions of nude images in a series of public newsletters designed to advertise my work, not realizing (on account of it not being included in the Community Guidelines that I had previously combed over), that Patreon had a strict policy on even the implication of nudity in any publicly-accessible areas of the site. After clarification, the issue was rectified, and I never published another image (censored or otherwise) outside of the bounds of Patreon's safety filters.

Trust & Safety?

Although it may seem pedantic, for the sake of establishing my case against Patreon, I'd like to go into a little more depth about my first run-in with the Trust & Safety team (I have the email chain to back up all of these claims). This was in November of 2019, only four months after I started using the site. I was contacted by a member of the Trust & Safety team, informing me of a strike against my account. To start with, the initial email read like a form letter describing a host of general violations, only one of which I was guilty of committing. I had to request that the team member actually review my specific case in order to find out what it was that I had done wrong, as if I could fix anything without knowing that first.

To their credit, the team member was willing to work with me (this time). After reviewing my case, two problems were identified. However, one of these (regarding publicly-accessible links to Patron-only content) turned out to not be a problem at all; but this was only determined after I explained to the Trust & Safety team member (who then agreed with me) why it was not. The other problem was a result of the critical omission of any reference to "implied nudity" in the Community Guidelines. It was not clear from reading the guidelines, and I did not imagine that the kind of implied nudity you sometimes see on the covers of such mainstream magazines as Entertainment Weekly, Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair, and Women's Health (among others) would create any issues. The team member acknowledged my suggestion that the guidelines be updated to reflect this unposted rule.

My final complaint regards the solution that was proferred to me by the Trust & Safety team member, in order to remove the strike on my account. Their requirement was to mark any post containing the offending content Patron-only (so as to restrict public access) - even though this would render those posts (designed to be public advertisements) completely pointless - rather than considering the possibility of simply removing the offending content and preserving the rest of these posts. I suggested the latter approach, which the team member agreed would be satisfactory, and so that's what I did. Problem solved. My case was resolved. I continued with no further issues, until this year.

I understand that these people on the Trust & Safety team probably have a huge workload, and that they can't pore over every detail of every case they come across (although I think that's what justice requires), but I think I've pretty clearly demonstrated that, other than what I couldn't know - because it wasn't passed on from Patreon to its users - I understood the rules of the site even better than the person hired to enforce them. That doesn't inspire confidence, and it lays the groundwork for the Trust & Safety team's later mishandling of my account, which had much more devastating consequences.

A Screeching Halt

Meanwhile, I needed another outlet for the more erotic-oriented works that I was continuing to create. For that reason, I also started an OnlyFans account. I consider it my right to advertise both aspects of my art - "simply nude" and "erotic" - on a third party site which permits that content; such as Twitter, which I have been using to build my brand and grow my fanbase. Fans have always had the choice, based on their tastes, to either subscribe to my nude art on Patreon, or my erotic art on OnlyFans. I never attempted to cross the two accounts, nor confuse users about what they would get from each one. OnlyFans never expressed to me any resentment that I produced a different kind of content for a different site, nor have they tried to police my behavior on a third party site. However, I cannot say the same for Patreon.

In March of this year (2022), after nearly three years of consistent productivity, providing hundreds of videos' and thousands of images' worth of content for Patreon (none of it ever cited by Patreon as being unacceptable or violating the Community Guidelines), out of the blue, I receive an email from a Trust & Safety team member on the way out of the office for a long weekend without correspondence, casually informing me that my account is in jeopardy. But it's not my conduct on Patreon that is the problem. It is content posted to my Twitter account (!) that has violated Patreon's guidelines. And the solution is to either remove any connection between the accounts (thus hamstringing my ability to advertise my work as an artist), or to "remove any violative content that's being shared on Twitter."

In other words, as a user of Patreon, the service was trying to police my behavior outside of Patreon, effectively trying to control the kind of art I was sharing on other platforms. This goes far beyond not permitting pornography on their platform (a rule that I always respected), and extends to not permitting known pornographers (with no consideration as to the delicate distinction between outright pornography and erotic art - we're not talking about explicit depictions of intercourse, mind you, but artistic portraits that merely do not shy away from "signs of arousal", as Patreon would describe it) to use their service, even within their guidelines. I instantly recognized this as an unreasonable demand, and prepared for the worst. Any hope of wanting to work with Patreon to resolve the issue was dashed by my resentment that they were willing to discriminate against me for my refusal, as an artist, to contribute to the further stigmatization of human sexuality.

Rather than scaring me straight, Patreon's objection to my involvement with pornography ironically left me with little recourse to continue on, professionally, as an artist (something I'm far more passionate about), as opposed to continuing to produce pornography for the more tolerant platform that has not rejected me - OnlyFans. Quite apart from encouraging people to pursue more socially-acceptable vocations, this is a pure example of how the shame and stigma of sex work actively discourages sex workers from leaving the very work for which they are condemned. Or, as in the case of my purpose as an artist, from attempting to raise the medium of sexual expression to a higher plane of sophistication.

Another difficulty in writing this post is expressing my emotional devastation without sounding melodramatic - the truth is, losing my Patreon account really hit me hard. If this had been any other site, I would have been disappointed, but I would have moved on. This was more like losing a job - a job that I really enjoyed, and one at which I thought I was performing well. Patreon didn't just rob me of a paycheck. They robbed me of a sense of purpose; of the feeling that what I'm doing is valuable - that it means something. Pulling the rug out from under me crippled my work ethic. I was legitimately depressed for months afterward. And for what? Not because of my behavior, but because of my sex-positive beliefs.

I may be a sensitive soul, but isn't that often the case among those with an artistic temperament? I'm not speaking metaphorically when I say that the impact of the way Patreon treated me brought me to my knees. I remember lying on the floor, my heart pounding through my chest. It exacerbated an arrythmia that sent me to the Emergency Room, where I had to have my heart shocked back into a normal rhythm - a procedure I am still paying for. And all the while my livelihood was being gutted, the Trust & Safety team coldly wished me "warm regards". I would have been less offended if they'd just been honest and told me they didn't give a fuck about me. Is it really worth it to treat other human beings this way? Is our phobia of human sexuality that important? And - perhaps the most poignant question of all - should we continue to patronize a platform that treats its own artists this way?