Lately… I’ve been asking one question a lot… why. WHY THis photograph, why this subject, why this platform. why.

I think it’s important to understand the reason behind what we do, what are we trying to teach, reveal, shed light on? What is the relevance of this project? What story am I trying to tell, and WHY?

It has been increasingly difficult to take a photograph without having a solid answer to this why.

I have a collaboration event happening soon with several other wildly talented artists and over the course of preparing my mind and heart for this event, I have been unsuccessful in articulating the why behind taking nude photographs.

I spoke with a dear friend, when the topic of photography came up, and specifically the idea of her contruibution as a model, she said, I don’t want to be seen as pretty. I don’t want to be a pretty face for some anonymous audience to consume. I later learned that she had been sexually abused and the weight of that hit me, somehow she said what I had always felt as well. Being pretty in front of a camera, for what? for who? To be consumed by an audience that I am incapable of qualifying?

So I’ve been thinking about this why. I am certainly not looking to produce content to be preyed upon by lecherous web dwelling incels and yet, the calling to explore female form exists.

And again, asking myself WHY.

I’ve noticed lately how quickly problems in life solve themselves if given the appropriate space to unfold. I had such an occurence last week when I flew my kids to the heart of the midwest for a ‘summer family vacation’. The priority for me was to give my kids the best time with family, cousins and really just narrow in on the overwhelming joy that simplicity can provide. We played in the yard, caught lightening bugs, walked to the park, sprayed each other with the hose and spent 2 dollars to get into the city swimming pool. No glitz, no glamour, no expensive amusement parks. Just humidity and corn fields.

I’d popped with a burst of enthusiasm. Corn Field Nudes. It had to happen, I asked 3 of my aunts to model for me, they quickly threw their heads back and laughed. My grandma joked about a leaf blower she had, she offered to use it to provide a gentle breeze, creating a wind effect in our hair. She laughed. Slowly the week was coming to a close and I had only imagined what I’d create if someone were brave enough. Here beings the start of my why.

The night before I left for home, I’d really surrendered my corn field nude idea. It’d have to wait for another year, next time I come, it’ll be a priority. But then something in me said, but you’re here now, the corn is tall, the air is warm, THESE are the conditions required to create the comfort needed for this idea.

It was 6 pm and my cousin got home from work. She laughed and told me that she’d mentioned the corn field nudes to a coworker who had just completed a pretty serious round of chemo and radiation and subsequent surgery to treat an aggressive form of cancer she’d been diagnosed with at 30. My ears perked and I thought ahead to the ‘Shape of Us’ photo/art collaboration which I’ve been co-planning for some time. Her story was part of my why.

I asked if she could meet for sunset the answer was yes. I said, you’ll have to take some photos of me too, are you ok with that? She agreed.

An hour later we headed out on the dirt road and drove as far out of town as possible. The dirt roads are heavily trafficked and we were hoping for some privacy and corn tall enough to get lost in.

We shared stories of our breastfeeding journey. She and I both nursed our daughters for 3.5 years. I’d never met someone who didn’t think I was categorically insane for fostering that connection as long as I did. I instantly felt like she was family.

She told me of her health issues, the chemo, the radiation, the months of feeling miserable and getting to work and never letting anyone know what she was dealing with. She told me about the father of her child and how, on the eve of the surgery which would effectively eliminate the last bit of cancer, he told her he didn’t want to be with her anymore, that he wasn’t happy and he chose to end the relationship.

Her body had healed beautifully and her heart was headed toward wholeness again. I could tell she didn’t spend long feeling sorry for herself or rather, for him. She popped up like a sunflower, hungry for life, hungry for more, hungry for what came next. And this photoshoot was a reclamation of her sovereignty. Chemo port, surgery scar, breasts that nursed her daughter for 3 and a half years, scars from carrying her for 10 months. The feature that shown brightest was her smile. I had to ask her, more than once, for an alternate expression, all she could do was beam her bright teeth at me through an upturned mouth with epic light pouring through her eyes.

This so clearly defined my WHY for me.

In an era when we are coming to terms with how colonized our minds are, how hyper focused we are on perfection, on hairlessness, on perky breasts, smooth skin, flat bellies and no flaws, we now know, unequivocally, that these standards of beauty have been maintained by generations of men who have idolized, worshipped the adolescent form of female anatomy. Worshiped the girl before life happened to her.

Women are now chosing to re-individuate, myself included.

I have chosen to share these photos of myself here. I, too, have. a default setting where I compare what is now to what was then. I romanticize the time in my life where my body was as I like it, even though that season was littered with self hate and self harm, but I was skinny!

It has taken effort and persistence to remind myself that I am no less worthy of reverence now that I have scars and thick thighs and breasts that have been used for life rather than just for pleasure.

I have never posed nude, I come from a few generations of nude enthusiasts and never understood why. Why be naked? Why reveal it all?

Then I came across this poem, which so deeply impacted me, it put the question of why to bed.

Akka Mahadevi (12th Century, Karnataka) wrote:

“People,
male and female,
blush when a cloth covering their shame
comes loose
               When the lord of lives
lives drowned without a face
in the world, how can you be modest?
When all the world is the eye of the lord,
onlooking everywhere, what can you
cover and conceal?”