The Story Behind Naked

[NudieDaniel]

www.NakedinAmerika.com

There is a story about Everything and there is a Story about getting Naked. It’s as much a personal story as it is a social and political one, one filled with the pains and joys of being a human and the pleasure of getting Naked.

Naked in Amerika was born on a moist North Western summer afternoon while I was spending the week at a nudist colony tucked in a beautiful forest in central Oregon. Days after a stressful few months, my body had finally gotten to shed its layers and relax under the warm sun and prance around shamelessly naked, butt, boobs and vagina.

I found it funny how it was mostly the elderly who frequented nudist spots. It made me wonder why this was. The elderly definitely aren’t looking any hotter than the young people, quite the opposite. In most cases it’s obvious they’re too old to care, and smart enough to realize how good for the body this is. Spending some of the time around these wonderful naked people in the forest was not only healing but it awakened me to my own story of how I came to love getting Naked.

‘Getting naked’ professionally as an adult sort of happened in my life. Being an artist model wasn’t a life aspiration, or something that I thought one could do as a way to make money, until and I started doing it. And I realized how much I enjoyed being in the presence of other artists, being a muse and being amused by the process of moving and getting creative in the naked. And the fact that I could get paid doing it was even more awesome. The Best part: I was getting a second hand education by some of the most amazing artists and art educators, most notably a true inspirer, artist and teacher, Joe Blaustein.

I took the nude work to the camera and had even more fun posing nude for all kinds of photographic art projects (though not all ended up being that artistic). When I pursued a career in acting in LA, dazzle by the prospects of walking the red carpet and sitting at the Oscars, I quit all nude work so I could be taken ‘seriously’, as if my work in the nude was something that was devaluing my worth as a performer…I quickly bought into some pretty lame messages whispered all around this self contradicting Hollywood scene.

These ‘shame on naked women’ messages were propagating the whole idea that women who get naked in front of the camera are not as ‘good’ or ‘smart’ or highly regarded as other women, as if this nakedness is a ticket to ‘worse behavior’, blah, blah, the same crap that women have been told for centuries to keep them feeling bad and ashamed for their bodies.

I became disenchanted with this uber sexualized Hollywood world that contradicted itself faster than I could change my underwear. My main claim to fame in big Hollywood was having my toe sucked off…by Russell Brand… in a movie scene… that never made it to the big screen.

And then on a warm December day, I was diagnosed with Multiple Fibroadenomas. For those of you who don’t know these are breast tumors. And as luck has it, I had dozens of them in each breast, so no way of having surgery and removing them for good. They were here to stay and I had to deal. Needless to say this was insanely frightening. Every six months for the rest of my life I had to get ultrasounds, and sometimes biopsies, and had to start mammograms a whole decade earlier than other women. Argh! But I was learning to cope.

The worst came when a few months after the diagnosis I was told two of the lumps, one in each breast, were growing, Fast! The surgeon advises it’s wise to remove them before they start deforming my breasts and biopsy them to make sure they weren’t growing because of a malignancy. Malignancy, ugh, that word!

The surgery was going to take place days before my birthday. Happy Birthday! The doctor was going to cut around my nipples to access these stubborn babies. But the one on the left side was hard to locate, in the midst of all his other brother and sister tumors, so to help the surgeon locate it, the radiologist had to place a needle extending out from the inner depth of my boobs and towards my armpit, like an awkward Boob Antenna. For an hour or so before surgery I felt part human part science experiment and couldn’t help but touch this antenna. The tube connected my growing lump to the world at large. I wonder what kind of stuff it was transmitting.

What eased the pain and strangeness of all this is that my surgeon was really sexy, even on the day of the surgery she’d managed to roll out of bed, put her hair in a ‘oh I’m sexy but no biggie Im about to cut you open-curling at the end-in a perfect curve pony tail’ style. In my puffy blue surgery cap and the even less flattering surgery gown, dark eyes from lack of sleep, I was a blushing mess when she came to check in on me pre-surgery. I really wished one was allowed to wear make up and looked better before going into surgery.

And so in the time of this diagnosis and the months that followed I became acutely aware of not just death, but Dis-ease. A disease that was born not just from my body, but also my mind, and the pains and negative messages I was holding on to. Even though I was ‘taking care’ of my body, I wasn’t really being attentive to it.

For weeks after my surgery I had to tend to my swollen breasts. They were massive now. I had dredged thinking of all the times I had wished for bigger boobs, damn you universe!

Part of my routine was to change the gauze around the nipples and wipe gently. Seeing them so hurt, swollen and cut up sunk my heart deeper into sadness. As I tended to my wounded breasts, I realized I must start tending to my whole being. During this time, aside from anger and frustration, I became aware of so much more.

I thought long and hard what this meant. This diagnosis, the surgery, these knots inside my breasts. I also thought how ironic it was what I had, considering how my longest and most successful profession to date had required my nakedness. I was questioning everything, not just what it meant physically but emotionally and spiritually.

When I got exhausted of being sad, it finally dawned on me. I realized how Incredible my body was, and I really started to appreciate my boobs. I mean really. I started to look at my body not with other’s eyes, or the eyes of society but my very own.



 thought of all the times I had criticized my body, I had called my boobs weird things, and thought they were set too far apart, could be perkier, bigger, rounder, less hairy and all kinds of silliness. And then once I let go of all those negative thoughts, I wondered. ‘Well, where do I go from here? What to do with this realization that my body is Amazing, not because of anything anyone can deem superficially attractive, but because it is! Because we’re so bogged down with images of what’s beautiful, and these 20 yr old babes flaunting their tight asses and we forget, having a body in and of itself is Amazing. Tight ass, loose ass, fat ass, no ass, protruding bones, hidden bones. All of it. One doesn’t have to be ‘ perfect’ or fit anyone’s idea of what a ‘Real’ body is supposed to look like, to be and feel great!

And you know what happened? First I’d like share a quick story.

When I was in college I had a job at a day care center. Kids were anywhere from a few weeks old to a few years old. The kids I took care of were about 2-5 years old. After lunch break kids were sent to watch these videos they could sing and dance along to. It was the first day and I was learning the routine working with this sweet girl named Ann. And within 10 minutes of starting this sing along video that the kids had obviously watched and sang to before, many times before, one of the kids, a spunky 2 year old girl, got up, took her shoes and diaper off. She started dancing and running around. A few other kids followed. Panicked, Ann yelled at them to put their clothes back on or else!

But they didn’t. Instead, all the other kids took all their diapers and clothes off and they all ran around the room screaming and laughing and signing. Since I wasn’t very experienced in ‘disciplining’ kids, I stood back and held my laughter, I thought it was so hilarious, this was the most fun I had seen them have all day. They were butt naked, running around, screaming and laughing, and laughing even harder when the angry adults would run after them diapers in hand.

And that’s exactly what happened to me after I stopped being so damn critical and unhappy.

I wanted to run around butt naked and laugh and be silly and jump and say “thank you”!!! I wanted to CELEBRATE my body.

And so I finally quit my ‘no naked’ policy and went back to nakedness with a vengeance. From naked in front of the camera or out and about in the desert or forest I was letting it all hang. However, when it came to ‘creative nakedness’ it was different this time around. I wasn’t taking my clothes off for just any photographer or any project that came along. My new found appreciation gave me a new set of lenses by which to sense what was most fulfilling for my mind and body.

And then came Naked In Amerika. Beyond just the photos, I wanted to tell a story. A story of a woman, a girl becoming a woman, of learning to look at her body, at her herself as a whole being, with love and acceptance and pure freedom. Naked. Both symbolically and literally. By getting Naked in Amerika I am allowing myself to be vulnerable but also to own up to my body, to honor it and share it in ways I find creative, outside the safety and confines of a studio. The photos are taken at real places. The photo at the hairdressers is actually at my hairdresser’s place, the amazing Shampoolio in LA, the Coffeeshop photo is taken at one of my favorite coffee shops in San Fran.

I won’t deny there is a slight bit of political and social manifesto fueled in this journey. The fact that in beaches in LA where, the porn capital of the world, a girl can get a ticket for being topless at the beach. (and many parts of the US a so-called 1st world western country with somewhat progressive social laws). The fact that when I’m scorching hot, anywhere for that matter, I can’t take my top off without becoming a target of sexual, mental and verbal attention and abuse.

It will be a long time before things change and this is my bit of personal social and political statement. Aside from the fun and excitement of getting past notions most people have of what’s ‘appropriate’ for me as a woman, it’s saying it’s okay to be sober and not be ashamed of your body. We don’t have to be trashed or f*up to free up and there is nothing perverse about our nakedness.

And most importantly, this is a spiritual crusade. As beings we are a collection of all of us, body, mind and soul. Taking it all off, and exposing oneself requires honesty, courage and vulnerability. Can’t say I have these all the time but I strive for all these qualities to carry me through this 3 dimensional sometimes 4th dimensional existence.

I hope this encourages others to take an honest look at their bodies, stripped of clothes, and to be Grateful. To vow to take care of it.

Take a moment to Celebrate your naked body. And give it thanks, for carrying around your business, for allowing you to feel. Go to a safe natural spot and go Diaperless, Shameless, Smile Big and Get Naked.

You can catch the photographic Journey of my nakedness through the years on Naked in Amerika.

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Disclaimer:

(make sure you don’t get arrested being naked, but if you do, know that’s for a good cause! unless you’re really intoxicated, obstructive, and just being plain obnoxious and violent towards yourself or others, well, then you’re on your own, …)

Otherwise Get Naked.

And if you’ve already embraced your nakedness I’d love to hear your story.

http://promiscuouslips.com/2015/07/20/the-story-behind-naked/