I would. Seriously. In black and white, in an artful way. I would like to pose as the woman I am before I become too wrinkled, too bent and too frail for it to be anything but obscene. But then, who dictates the boundaries of obscene anyway? I am neither voyeur nor exhibitionist. I am woman, appreciative of the human form and aware that as I fade, so shall any semblance of my existence save for the memories carried along by my sons. We have, as best we know, one life to live and I am compelled to trade one shell for a larger.
I am intrigued by the primal aspect of being naked, by the reality that is hidden behind clothing where most people give no second thought to hiding, or fading into background.
Naked and exposed.
How many of us have (innocent mind you) pictures of ourselves taken as babies on rugs, or blankets? As though the only real way for our parents to realize our "realness" was to take a picture of us without the trappings of clothing?
For all my imperfections, supposed or otherwise, I cannot help but think that by continuing to hide behind the facade of clothing, we continue the fiction of what is true beauty. Especially here in the U.S., where youth is considered the first ideal of beauty.
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