“I’ve brought my camera,” I told my friends when I arrived at the mountain cabin for the weekend. “I need some volunteers for the naked blog project.”
“It’s a project now?” asked Denim Woman. “When did that happen?”
Dancing Woman looked up from her journal. “You can take a photo of me.”
I reminded her of that promise that afternoon when we hiked to the Point, a peninsula of land that jutted into the mountain lake, where gale force wind whipped the water into whitecaps. Denim Woman pulled the hood of her winter coat over her head and braced her body against a tree, with the theory that the trunk would serve as a wind block. Signing Woman tied a scarf around her face and pulled her hat down to her eyes, but the rest of us had to contend with an icy wind that blew hair into our faces.
“I love how the wind is whipping everyone’s hair,” I said. “Wouldn’t this make a great place for a picture?”
“It might be just a little cold,” said Denim Woman, shivering as she huddled against the tree, her arms folded against her winter coat.
“I think in porn films, they use a fan,” said Dark-haired Woman. “In a WARM studio.”
Well, I couldn’t let my standards sink below the standards of a porn studio. I decided that asking my friends to strip naked when there was still snow on the ground might really test the bounds of friendship.
We were back in the warm house, drinking tea and eating chocolate, when Dancing Woman started talking about her latest dance exhibition. We gathered around a laptop to watch her performance. She was 49 years old before she had her first dance lesson, but apparently, she’s a fast learner. Paired with her instructor, she moved gracefully around a dance floor, in first a waltz and then in a series of other dances I don’t even know the names of. She’s got the body of a dancer, with long thin legs, but the dance was beautiful in more ways than that — she danced like the music was inside of her. She danced the way a woman dances when music brings the deepest parts of herself to the surface.
“I even bought a journal,” she said, “just to write about all my dancing experiences.” She pulled out a notebook that had the word “DANCE” on the cover.
“Let’s go take your photo,” I said abruptly, “while we’ve still got light.”
So we retreated to an upstairs bedroom, where I’d noticed light coming in from a high window. Dancing Woman stripped off her clothes without hesitation, and sat on the bed, her long legs folded as she looked out the window.
“Sometimes I hear the music I’ve danced to,” she said, “and all these emotions just come flooding back.”
Read more about the naked blogging project and check out the gallery of photos.
“It’s a project now?” asked Denim Woman. “When did that happen?”
Dancing Woman looked up from her journal. “You can take a photo of me.”
I reminded her of that promise that afternoon when we hiked to the Point, a peninsula of land that jutted into the mountain lake, where gale force wind whipped the water into whitecaps. Denim Woman pulled the hood of her winter coat over her head and braced her body against a tree, with the theory that the trunk would serve as a wind block. Signing Woman tied a scarf around her face and pulled her hat down to her eyes, but the rest of us had to contend with an icy wind that blew hair into our faces.
“I love how the wind is whipping everyone’s hair,” I said. “Wouldn’t this make a great place for a picture?”
“It might be just a little cold,” said Denim Woman, shivering as she huddled against the tree, her arms folded against her winter coat.
“I think in porn films, they use a fan,” said Dark-haired Woman. “In a WARM studio.”
Well, I couldn’t let my standards sink below the standards of a porn studio. I decided that asking my friends to strip naked when there was still snow on the ground might really test the bounds of friendship.
We were back in the warm house, drinking tea and eating chocolate, when Dancing Woman started talking about her latest dance exhibition. We gathered around a laptop to watch her performance. She was 49 years old before she had her first dance lesson, but apparently, she’s a fast learner. Paired with her instructor, she moved gracefully around a dance floor, in first a waltz and then in a series of other dances I don’t even know the names of. She’s got the body of a dancer, with long thin legs, but the dance was beautiful in more ways than that — she danced like the music was inside of her. She danced the way a woman dances when music brings the deepest parts of herself to the surface.
“I even bought a journal,” she said, “just to write about all my dancing experiences.” She pulled out a notebook that had the word “DANCE” on the cover.
“Let’s go take your photo,” I said abruptly, “while we’ve still got light.”
So we retreated to an upstairs bedroom, where I’d noticed light coming in from a high window. Dancing Woman stripped off her clothes without hesitation, and sat on the bed, her long legs folded as she looked out the window.
“Sometimes I hear the music I’ve danced to,” she said, “and all these emotions just come flooding back.”
Read more about the naked blogging project and check out the gallery of photos.
10 comments:
Lovely. Just absolutely lovely.
Love the light. And she's beautiful.
Ditto Cindy! Definitely lovely!
SOME of your friends are willing to get naked in the snow--but--I don't blame the ones who don't want to, either.
And thanks for sending healing, I really need it.
Ha! I guess I *should* have pointed out that at least one brave friend has posed for a naked photo in the snow.
Beautiful. And she LOOKS like a dancer -- the way she holds herself.
Yup, to me that is dancing, the music moving the body. Technique adds to that, but is sterile without it.
I agree with Zhoen. Dancing is about how your body responds to the music and moves to the music.
Gorgeous pic!
Soothing light for a cold day and another elegant pose representing the human body in its natural, beautiful condition.
Yes, elegant.
H.
Another beautiful naked friend in such lovely warm light. Great photo.
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