Skinny Dip Falls

I was disappointed to hear about the controversy surrounding access rights to Skinny Dip Falls in Chautauqua County, NY as of this spring. And I wanted to get out there and experience it before it was too late. Reports seem to be mixed on how serious the situation is. I personally witnessed a nosy neighbor monitoring vehicles parking in the nearby turnout. But though "no trespassing" signs were posted on the adjacent property, the creek was still clearly marked out for public fishing. And I was not the only nude hiker in the gorge that day.

I've freehiked wilderness trails before, and gone skinny dipping countless times at rivers, lakes, and on beaches. But almost always in a surreptitious manner. What's novel about this spot is its history and reputation for nudism (clearly marked, in one of the more conscientious examples of spray painting on rocks that I've seen). Unlike other occasions, where I've been anxious about running into other people, it was exhilarating being able to hike nude and not worry about who I came across (as they would have been amply warned of the possibility of encountering nudity). Indeed, I did encounter a few people while hiking nude, with whom I traded a friendly (and completely unselfconscious) greeting. Most notable was a group of four seasoned hikers who had entered the gorge ahead of me, one of which was himself hiking au naturel (and sporting the nudists' telltale all-over tan).

We need more places like this in the world. Places where people can enjoy the natural beauty of our planet, and do so nude if they choose, without worrying about offending others who make different choices. Places that aren't fenced in and don't require admission fees (although I wouldn't mind paying $7 for the peace of mind to enjoy this trail without hassle or fear of being towed or ticketed for trespassing, while contributing to the local economy - which we most certainly did do while in the area). Places that aren't rooted to a landed community that, no matter how friendly, will inevitably make you feel like a guest and an outsider (with an intimidating list of rules, when all you really need to do is just use common sense). We need to do what it takes to keep these precious few places available to the public, which means fighting for them, but also using them responsibly and practicing good stewardship of the environment.

Because if my experience in the natural paradise of my own metaphorical backyard is any indication, it's not generally the people who want to take their clothes off that are a public nuisance; it's the drunks and the self-entitled egoists who can't see past their own desire to party, and who think the planet is their trash can, that tend to ruin it for the rest of us. And when I tell you not to blame their mess on us nudists, I say that as the naked person who has repeatedly had to pick up others' trash while shaking my head at the tasteless, bigoted graffiti with which they've stained the natural landscape we all must share. Let us not lose sight of who the true villain is here. Because it's not the person who just wants to take advantage of a hard-to-find opportunity to enjoy nature without wearing clothes.

Cosplay Malfunction

Preface: Back when COVID hit, I was working on a homemade version of the iconic metal bikini that Princess Leia wears in Return of the Jedi (because the mass-produced Halloween costume that I bought was too conservative for my tastes). Last weekend was the first time I got to trot it out in public, at the first convention I've attended since the pandemic. It is, by nature, a very skimpy cosplay, that is held together by a series of small snaps. I've done my best to ensure that the costume is secure, and indeed my experience wearing it went off without a hitch. However, there was a moment while I was taking some self-portraits on the rooftop patio of the convention center, that one of the snaps popped open while I was maneuvering myself into a lying position on a bench, leaving me briefly exposed from the back as the self-timer counted down (hence the photo evidence - I swear this situation wasn't contrived :-p). I was in a remote location when it happened (which is the reason I felt comfortable taking so many liberties with my poses), and nobody else was around to witness this temporary wardrobe malfunction. Nevertheless, it got my imagination running.

What if - hypothetically speaking - this had happened in the middle of a crowd of convention goers? Now, I'm an exhibitionist. Skimpy outfits bring me joy - whether I'm the one wearing them, or somebody else is wearing them. I'm wearing a thong under my costume, because I want to be covered (for liability purposes), but I don't want to be covered any more than I have to. I'm not shy. I would walk around the convention in just the thong if it were socially acceptable. In fact, I have walked around this city in a thong before (in the right circumstances). But this is a convention, and I'm supposed to be in costume, not undressed just for the hell of it.

So let's say I'm walking around in a skimpy costume, and a wardrobe malfunction occurs. My skirt is held on by a series of snaps, and if a single one fails, the entire skirt would collapse to the floor. Even if I were to grab for it the instant I notice it falling, chances are there would still be a brief moment where I could potentially be flashing a crowd of people - even if I made every effort to cover up as quickly as possible. I'm sure staff would say, "if there's any chance of your costume falling off, you should be covered up underneath." But in my case, that would defeat the very nature of my costume. And in my defense, I saw women walking around the convention in little more than a thong without even a skirt covering their butt. It's not like there would be any point at which my genitals would be exposed.

Regardless, let's suppose it happens. Now consider what you would do if you were a bystander who, like me, enjoys skimpy outfits, and happened to be holding a camera in your hands when the malfunction occurred. I think that under normal community standards, it would be considered impolite to snap a picture of a person thuswise indisposed, under the assumption that they are exposing something they weren't intending and probably aren't comfortable exposing. But in my case, I'm only covering it up to satisfy community standards. If I were the one experiencing the malfunction, I'd want somebody to snap a picture, because it's the only way I could be thuswise exposed without incurring fault. I'd want somebody to document that moment. And I'd want everybody who witnesses it to enjoy it - if that's the sort of thing that floats their boat - guilt-free. Because although society tells us this sort of thing is taboo, I say we should be allowed to enjoy it.

I guess what makes it tricky is that you don't know who's an exhibitionist and who's not (unless you already know the person), and it's better to play it safe and avoid the risk of embarrassing someone at the cost of missing the golden moment. On the other hand, I'm not saying "cosplay is consent" (consent to what, exactly?), but if you're walking around a convention in a skimpy outfit that's in danger of potentially exposing you at any moment, chances are you're not super uptight about complete strangers getting a look at your body. I wish people would snap more candid pictures of me in various positions (especially from behind!), instead of having to ask for my permission and then getting a canned pose, or worrying that I would be offended if I ever saw the picture they sneakily snapped of me while I was lounging unawares (I want to see those pictures, too!). I'm not walking around half naked because I don't want people looking at me! I guess I just have rare insight because I know what it's like both to be the sexy cosplayer and the hopeful voyeur. We could all learn something if we spent a little time walking in the other guy's shoes.

Or the other girl's heels, as the case may be.

No Excess Baggage

Sex has so much baggage. And while we place some of that baggage onto sex artificially, there will always be a certain amount that legitimately comes with the territory. Sex is messy. Sex tugs at people's heartstrings. Sex can carry health risks. And in certain couplings, sex carries the risk of pregnancy. Which is a big deal.

I'm open-minded, but I don't want to have or be surrounded by people having indiscriminate sex all the time. That's why I support people being able to be naked together absent a sexual context - i.e., nudism. But sometimes nudism takes it too far in de-emphasizing sexuality, to a point where it no longer even matters what people look like, and it's almost considered a sin to admire another person's body.

I want to spend time admiring people's bodies. Attractive people. As little dressed as possible. I feel like this is so hard to find - looking, for the sake of looking, without the expectation of a sexual coupling (and the frustrations, on both sides, when that turns out not to be a mutual goal). I mean, sure, we do it all the time, but we have to hide our intentions, and you can never get enough of an eyeful without either committing to a sexual relationship, or coming off as a total creep.

That's why I like art - the exhibition of aesthetic beauty, for viewing without further commitment - and why I support, as nudism does, a culture where nudity isn't treated as an invitation to sex. I just don't want to lose the part where we get to experience delight at the sight of the human body. Because it gives me so much pleasure in life, and it's a harmless joy (paradoxically feared by so many people) that I never feel I can get quite enough of.

To summarize, in a textile culture, you don't get to see people naked unless you're in a sexual relationship. In a nudist environment, you can see people naked but you're not allowed to enjoy the view. I'm just looking for the middle ground, where we can appreciate naked beauty - even for its erotic appeal - yet without comitting to a sexual relationship.

Unnatural

Human nature makes a lot more sense when you consider that man is just another animal driven by instinct. Civilization is, largely, a positive influence, but exposure to it tends to foster the illusion that it is the norm rather than the exception.

So, I was talking to a person who enjoys the conjunction of nudism and swinging (a taboo subject among conventional nudists), and I was struggling to formulate a response that is respectful of nudism, yet neither hollowly dogmatic nor judgmental of an open and unrestrained approach to sexuality (which I support - in principle; it's much harder to put into practice). How do you tell someone who likes walking around naked in front of strangers and openly having sex, that walking around naked is perfectly natural, but openly having sex is not? I mean, isn't that pretty much our prime directive?

And I came to a conclusion. What if nudism isn't natural, after all? I mean, the kind of nudism that's just as buttoned up (maybe more so) as textiles are on the subject of sex. Sure, it's perfectly natural to walk around naked without draping man-made fabrics over our bodies to preserve a completely arbitrary sense of dignity. But what if it's also perfectly natural for people to constantly be having loads of sex, out in the open, with multiple partners? Speaking in an evolutionary sense, our sex drives are a powerful instinct. There may be risks inherent to indiscriminate sexual activity, but you can't argue that nature favors the "spray and pray" method. It's civilization that seeks to dampen this wanton sexual behavior.

Now, I believe in the merits of civilization. And I think we should be more discriminate in who and how we fuck. I'm ruled by the complex intelligence of my brain, not solely by my baser instincts. But the fact remains, it may be no more natural to pretend that we shouldn't be fucking around all the time than it is to pretend there's any good reason to wear clothes. This would explain an awful lot of the difficulty nudism has trying to convince the world that naked people hanging out doesn't automatically carry a sexual connotation, and why it seems (to non-nudists and sexual progressives alike) so hypocritical on its face for nudists to go to the trouble of shattering the nudity taboo but then come to the decision to still preserve our taboos around sex.

Let me state this clearly. I believe in the non-sexual version of nudism. I support it, and I actually prefer it to the alternative (which is a nude-friendly swingers' lifestyle - and why wouldn't swingers be nude-friendly?). But let's not kid ourselves into thinking it's natural or even obvious. And let's stop getting endlessly frustrated with the multitudes of people who get it wrong. That's like figuring out calculus and letting every person who never got past algebra drive you up the wall. Accept that this misunderstanding is, by necessity, going to be widespread, and then work on trying to correct people with more patience and empathy, instead of writing off everyone who ever gets it wrong as an idiot or an enemy. Most people alive don't get as much sex as the force of natural evolution (and their appetite) intends. So let's give them a break.

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.

Nude Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

Speaking on a purely hypothetical level, let's say I'm at a public park, and the weather is pleasant, and I decide I would be more comfortable if I stripped naked. I'm not harassing anybody, I'm just minding my own business, the way I'm most comfortable. My question is this: is there any Constitutional basis that would justify the restriction of my freedom to do so? Would my choice to disrobe fundamentally threaten the life, liberty, or pursuit of happiness of another? Let's consider these one at a time. Would taking my clothes off threaten anybody's life? No. Would it restrict anybody's liberty? Not unless you define liberty very broadly to include the "liberty" to recreate in parks "free from" the sight of nudity. But if you look closely, this isn't really liberty at all, it's a restriction of liberty. Finally, could stripping nude in a public park negatively affect somebody else's happiness? Certainly. But does it limit their ability to pursue happiness? No. If they're unhappy, they can pick their feet up and go somewhere else.

Now let's turn the tables. If you take away my option to enjoy nude recreation in public parks, are you threatening my life? Of course not. But are you restricting my liberty? Absolutely! I should be the one to control how I dress myself. Obviously, you're limiting my happiness, but are you limiting my ability to pursue happiness? Not in the broadest sense, where even a prisoner digging a hole with a spoon could be considered to be working towards the promise (no matter how unlikely) of a happier state of living - like hope, one can pursue anything with the right mindset, no matter how dire conditions are. The truth is, I can always search for another place to be nude. But if this kind of restriction on my liberty is applied across the board, then that leaves me little recourse. Except to petition the government, I suppose. But at what point does continuously tossing obstacles in my path add up to actively obstructing my pursuit of happiness?

What happens when we weigh these two sides against each other? It's clear that nobody's life is being threatened either by nude recreation or its restriction thereof. On the liberty issue, I don't think there exists a credible argument to refute the fact that preventing people from recreating nude significantly restricts individual liberty, in a way that permitting them to do so does not. Which brings us to the pursuit of happiness, in all its vague and indeterminate glory. I think in either case, avenues exist for a person to pursue happiness. But the way I see it, restricting a person's liberty to recreate nude hampers his pursuit of happiness in a more direct and substantial way than permitting that person to recreate nude would hamper the pursuit of happiness of somebody else who wants to control what other people wear at the park. It comes right back to liberty - if your happiness depends on restricting other people's liberties, then that's a less valid concern than that of the person whose happiness simply depends on having liberty.

Obviously, the world disagrees with me on this point. I think a rational analysis of the facts supports my conclusion that a person should be allowed to recreate nude in a public park if they so choose. The reality is simply that not enough people would care to. To most people, nudism is a foreign concept, and one that's frankly quite scary. The reason, then, that it is restricted to the extent that it is, is simply a matter of habit and popular opinion, and not social justice. But then, that's the way the world works. Justice isn't a naturally occurring phenomenon. It's a human concept. We strive towards it, sometimes. But only when it's comfortable and convenient for a majority of the population.

Q: Why do you call yourself an exhibitionist?

A: On a personal level, a large part of my sex-positive platform hinges on an insistence on re-envisioning what constitutes exhibitionism. So you might ask, if my experience of exhibitionism doesn't match the stereotype, then why do I call myself an exhibitionist? Well, other than the fact that this is a great opportunity to highlight and combat the way we tend to stereotype and "other" people we don't understand - especially when sex is involved - as with everyone else, sexual identity tends to be something you discover, more so than something you deliberately construct.

I didn't set out to champion the cause of exhibitionism when I entered the world of nude photography. Truth be told, I spent a lot of my life self-conscious about my body, and a lot of time in those early days as a nude model being mortified of sharing my images, out of a fear of negative judgment. I did it because I had a passion for the art form, and an admiration for the human body. If I'd had the opportunity, I would have shot images of beautiful naked women. But due to a social handicap, I was forced to limit myself to self-portraiture.

I've told this story before, but my whole journey as an artist grew out of looking back on sexting pics I shot (of myself) for my girlfriend in high school. I liked the pics, I enjoyed the process of taking them, and I had the distinct impression that it was unfair that only one person in the world (besides myself) should ever get a chance to see them. That's why I started sharing them, and that's how I got started taking more. What happened from there is that I developed an appreciative audience. I continued to enjoy the process, and there were people out there who liked the results. Over the years, I gained confidence and experience, and I groomed myself to be an even more eye-catching model, until nude self-portraiture became a fundamental part of my life and identity.

Because I was lucky enough to be "reared" as an artist in a permissive environment, and because my self-portraiture has always been an independent activity, there were never any artificial boundaries erected between nudity and eroticism, and nothing stopped me from exploring both through my photography - except my own embarrassment at first, which was gradually eroded as, again, I acquired an appreciative, even enthusiastic, audience for such works. If at any point I was uncomfortable with sexually explicit media, I would have stopped producing it. Instead, I found it to be an enjoyable activity. And I also found sharing it with an appreciative audience to be empowering, but not just that - it was also exciting.

I'm pretty sure getting excited by expressing your sexuality (especially visually) in front of random strangers on the internet counts as exhibitionism. Not everybody gets off on that. It just so happens that I do.* As do so many others. It's liberating, living in a sexually repressive culture, to be able to express yourself sexually and be appreciated (not shamed) for it. Moreover, as somebody with a social handicap and no strong interest to have intimate relationships with lots of people, this is a way that I can be sexually adventurous with very little (indeed, practically nonexistent) danger to myself or others. It has nothing to do with "accosting" people on the street, and everything to do with indulging in consensual kink with other voyeurs, as well as exploring, conceptually - through art - the excitement that can come from being naked or encountering nudity (whether or not that involves any sexual behavior whatsoever) in places and situations that it's not normally expected in a gymnophobic culture.

*I didn't immediately put two and two together, but in retrospect, one of my earliest and strongest memories of my own sexual awakening involves frolicking nude in front of a camera.

And I think there are a lot of people out there like me, if the popularity of websites like OnlyFans are any indication. I want to support them and defend them, and be a voice for them. And for myself. And show the world that we are not a dirty stereotype that can be brushed aside, reduced to a DSM diagnosis, and treated as mere "perverts" rather than human beings with an ethical conscience, deserving of dignity and respect and the same rights and liberties everybody else gets.

The Illusion of Danger

This photo illustrates one of my points about exhibitionism and sexual fetishism in general. It is a clone shot depicting one nude figure opening the gate for another nude figure, who is standing - as revealed by the viewpoint in the second part of the diptych - in view of the street. As an exhibitionist, the idea of standing in front of that open gate excites me. I don't know why it excites me. I didn't choose for it to excite me. That's just how it makes me feel. And that's why I constructed that illusion in this photomanipulation.

I never actually stood naked in front of that open gate. The gate was closed when I stood in front of it, and when I held it open, I was always behind it, out of view of the street. But when I stitch the two images together, it looks like I'm standing there naked in view of the street. That's part of the "artifice" in art. And I'm explaining the trick because it demonstrates my point - namely, that you can find something sexually thrilling and still understand the logistical and ethical issues it raises, and maintain self-control even in the face of those feelings.

Being an exhibitionist isn't illegal or unethical or immoral, and neither does having those feelings predetermine a stereotypical pattern of antisocial behavior. You might even find perfectly acceptable outlets for those desires - like when I share images like this one with consenting (even enthusiastic!) voyeurs online.