Candid Bedroom

In My Room

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For most, our first experimental, non-bath related “nudity,” where we’re spending a lot of time naked is, of course, is in bedroom. I remember the first time I laid out naked on my bed during a horrendously hot summer and let the breeze through the window tingle my still ship-shape flesh (not that at thirty it’s gone too far south). I remember looking forward to those private sessions of mine, going to my room “to be naked.” It had become something to be, and not just a transition state between stages of the day. It’s where and how I got comfortable with what I was becoming.

My hippie father played a Beach Boys tune for me when I was around thirteen, “In My Room,” and it struck home immediately. In my room, the place, was becoming very important. It’ where I could hold my hand mirror at odd angles to the big dresser mirror to see how things were shaping up, how I’d look to other people, to that boy in World History, for example. Would he be the one? All of that is considered at great length in one’s room. It’s where we first see how it feels, how our body changes in response, to where our minds are going.

Candid Nudity

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