Janell

Janell – USA

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I love posing, I’m a camera ham.  Before the shoot I was reluctant…I wanted to lose some weight before being photographed so that I had a thinner belly.  C’est la vie.  As the shoot neared, I considered the intent of the project and started to like the idea of pushing my belly rolls together so I could really show them off.  While that wasn’t how the shoot played out, I found myself in a fun and playful place with the process….and with my belly.  In other words, I kinda got over myself, and my body stories.

Even though I have a very close family, nudity was hidden growing up.  To this day, no one in my family gets nude around each other, other than my mom and me on rare occasion.  And although I’m very comfortable with nudity I don’t need to push it on the family front, and in fact, given how I grew up, it would just feel odd to be nude around my family.  On the other hand, my other family (tribe) is exceptionally open about their bodies, which I love.

I used to be very shy about my body.  At age 19, I still had hang-ups about letting even my gal pals see me nude.  I was so over being concerned that I decided to take up nude modelling.  Well, that knocked the shyness right out of me.  My first gig was for a freshman drawing class made up of mostly 18 year old guys.  Hasta la vista baby, I was pretty much cured after that.  Since then being nude has been a non-issue for me.

I love imagery that captures the essence of what’s real, and most of the mainstream media offers only a tiny sliver of that.  I wanna see cellulite, belly rolls, scars, body hair on women….the real deal of who we are and what our bodies really look like.

I feel sexier after being a part of this project, which for me right now generates feelings of self-acceptance and love.  And by sexier I mean I feel more connected to my divine feminine and an innate beauty.  Because of this, I’ve felt less inclined to judge my body.

BJ

bj – USA

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just before erica was about to leave she mentioned the embody project again, and would i be interested in doing the shoot right then and there? this spontaneous and unrehearsed way of participating in the project was so thrilling for me, matching the project’s intention to demonstrate the unadulterated naked truths of our bodies.

and how lovely an opportunity to step in front my issues, to not have had advance notice our shoot was such a gift! i had no chance to prepare for the shoot, go over it in my mind, anticipate what might happen, where or how to arrange myself accordingly. the uncontrived nature of the whole thing was surprisingly refreshing.

i noticed an incredible freedom and fluidity and trust in undressing and posing for our shoot. i felt such ease in my body, such confidence in participating with erica’s inspiring vision for the project, such assuredness in our familiarity and rapport, and such a deep and profound trust in the perfection of the moment.

and the awkwardness that was there turned out to be mostly logistical: the space we were in was cold, and posing for a camera is not something i’m familiar with or do on a regular basis. i did feel some paradoxical tension between wanting the photos to capture the ease i felt, and the other two elements of cold and the posing pretense.

upon some reflection, i imagined i would have enjoyed displaying something even more authentic and in the moment through the lens of our shoot together. demonstrating the awkwardness, the unrefined and raw aspects of being naked, cold, and amateur in front of a camera. intellectually, i can easily fancy the artistic qualities of emphasis on the raw and crude.

though it turns out that what was most authentic and in the moment was just to follow erica’s expert direction, trust the predominate ease i was feeling, and feel into the legitimate unpreparedness of our time together: an unmade bed with stained sheets, chill bumps on my skin, extemporaneous adjustments and positioning. what absurdity in thinking that i might have liked to control what was captured in order to demonstrate authenticity. the moment will always show up at just the right time (now) to teach me again about true authenticity.

what a fascinating and enlightening demonstration to myself of the resplendent nature of the raw, unprepared, exposed truth. and isn’t that the way of it? the exquisite beauty and perfection of all-that-is are always there, just waiting to be uncovered in their transcendent, impossible wholeness.

thank you life for showing this to me again. i am profoundly moved.

Alina Ahh

Alina Ahh – USA

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I loved being a faerie in the wild. Being naked with only my wings on! For years, I have been playing wildly and creatively as a faerie stilt-walker, but I have never thought about doing it naked. I loved the idea of trying this, something so new and unique. Wild in body and wild in nature.

I was excited and a little nervous ahead of time. But Erica made me feel so comfortable. And while shooting, I had so much fun playing with how I moved my body, and I loved being high up in the trees and with the large boulders. Being photographed made me feel special and queenly, and being high up magnified this experience.

I sometimes love my body and sometimes wish it were different. I grew up feeling awkward in my body and it took awhile before I enjoyed being in a body, and being in this body. It’s not anything like the so-called female ideal body. My mum was quite comfortable being naked around us girls and I marveled at her long pendulous breasts and round belly. I thought she was beautiful. My mum always told me I was beautiful, and I’m so grateful she did. Sometimes I feel beautiful and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I don’t care how I look to others. Sometimes I don’t look in the mirror for days and I ignore my appearance. I want people to see beyond the surface. I want them to feel the energy of who I really am. Which has very little to do with my body. Who I am is an eternal being of love. Who I really am is joy and freedom. And yet that being is housed in a wondrous physical body.

Here’s what I want to tell my body: Dear sweet body, you are beautiful. You are the perfect container for this perfect being of pure light and love. You are magnificent. You can move in so many ways. You jump, you swirl, you sway, you jiggle, and dance. You have taken this beautiful soul all over the planet. You have clamored over rocks and salsa danced in sweaty Guatemalan barrooms; you have flown in airplanes and climbed temples; you have swam in oceans and dead seas, stood in awe in redwood groves and hugged trees all over the planet; you have kissed yourself and other beautiful beings. You have perceived through these wonderful senses, and your perspective is entirely unique and valuable. You are a strong body. You love to move. You love to feel the breeze on your skin. I am so glad you are clothing this precious being.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Sully

Sully – USA

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Aim and Release

I was once a hunter.  I hunted for laughter, play and companionship, and the bounty was full.  But the prize I wanted the most was the source of these pastimes… I hunted for Love. But Love found me first.  Love had watched me my whole life and all the while, I searched for its fleeting presence.  I followed its tracks.  Not a place did I go, did I not find Love’s markings.  It was always so close and with its traces everywhere, it seemed like such an easy catch. But Love always seemed to keep me on its heels.  Toying with me, while all along I never knew I was under Love’s watch.  I followed its heavenly floral scent.  I saw its presence in the eyes of those that had seen Love.  I heard it in the infants cry and the whistling wind. I saw it in the opening of the flowers to the Sun… everywhere.

I was driven mad by my search.  Love’s scent was maddening. Its marks were maddening; always dangling like a carrot before me, yet just out of reach.  For years I searched. I became angry, then hungry, then overwhelmed with desperation. I was exhausted and parched, weak and broken. I feared for my sanity and my life. Till finally, I dropped to my knees and surrendered to my defeat.

I tore the clothes from my flesh and gave my whole being to this surrender.  I had pulled and pulled at myself until there was no self left.  I released and put myself at fate’s mercy.  That’s when the arrow struck!  Everything became silent.  Everything…completely still.   All of time… past, present and future became one instant; Eternally Now, an eternal piercing of Love’s trajectory into my heart.

I looked up and then I saw before me… Love!  Naked… unashamed… yet fully humble in its most ineffable beauty, like a child. I was stunned, for in Love’s hand was a bow and then I remembered. I looked down and there my heart lay, split wide open; an arrow piercing its center.  I suddenly became frightened.  I struggled to pull it from my heart.   This struggle seemed to last an eternity.  Lifetime after lifetime seemed to pass.  During my struggle, I saw into the lives of All.  I saw everyone’s struggles, I saw war and famine.  I saw bloodshed and such sorrow.  I saw Life born and Life lost.  I saw Love gained and Love lost, over and over again.  I saw into the wounded hearts of us all and my heart split further open and finally I let go of my struggle again.

Each time I released, I was filled with unconditional Love for all humanity, for all existence.  I saw with their eyes, I felt with their hearts, Love and Pain became indistinguishable.  All became naked to me, all was revealed.  No more secrets, nothing left to hide.  Then I remembered having been them all.   Everyone, in all of time.  I became All that IS.  All ideas of separation were consumed in the inferno of All that IS.  Fully stripped  of all I thought I was, I experienced all that I Am, all that is I, which is all that IS! So fully bare was I that all that was left was an undifferentiated state. All opposites absorbed into One Beingness.

Then… Love spoke.  “Foolish human! This whole time you searched for me, hunted me down and never knew I was all around you, watching you, sometimes touching you, even within you.  Yet you were so obsessed with your hunt for me that you never noticed my true presence.  I watched and waited patiently as a true hunter does, waiting for just the right moment for my shot.  Sure, you saw the signs I left around for you, the ”tracks” as you called them, but you could never set your sites on me! This whole time, you thought you were the hunter but you were only the prey.  Then, when I’d finally driven you mad, brought you to your whit’s end, brought you to your knees in humility… laid you bare and fully vulnerable while releasing your idea of control, I saw the time had arrived.  I saw my shot.  I took aim and released my arrow into your open, exposed heart.  Not till you were fully naked and defenseless could my arrow penetrate your heart.  And once pierced, you died to your separate self and awakened to your Full Self.  Now that you are fully revealed, you and I can now be One.  For all good hunters know that one must become their prey before they can know their prey.”

At that, Love and I merged and became One.  I was the hunter and the prey.  Now, here I rest before you… still naked… still vulnerable and fully revealed.  I’ve chipped my flint with the cold stone of Life’s tribulations and sharpened it further on the gritty scabs of Humanity’s wounds.   I’ve dipped its tip in Life’s healing waters and in the blood of my open heart.   When it hits, you will feel both Pain and Love, but with surrender they will become One… and you and I will become One.  I see you. Yes… I see you… Now, I’m ready to take my bow and this arrow.  I’m ready to take aim… and release!

Savannah

Savannah – USA

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I have really struggled writing this essay.

There, I said it. And now, I can let it go.

I know the full impact, the true impact, of this entire experience won’t hit me until these words are shared alongside my picture. My body, my story; they are my identity.

She

With wild curls backlit by the sun like a copper halo, green eyes glinting, an amber necklace as her only adornment. Body humming from the inhaling the crisp air, the scent of dry autumn leaves and water on rock. Exhaling, to taste the nostalgia of fall in the mountains.

During the shoot with Erica, I hurdled boulders, leapt towards the sun, tipped into handstands, tumbled out of cartwheels, but ultimately stood naked with all that I am and all that I had to offer, laid bare.

She

Bare body, embodied. Honest, unearthed, and leaning into the unknown. Her body poised like a question-mark; secure in her skin yet simultaneously stretching as much as she dared. Freedom held in the sunlight at the tips of her hair, the tug of the wind, within her whispered prayer.

I felt so certain, so at peace. And yet since then, I have written and erased and written and erased, a senseless, ceaseless cycle to try to get it right.

What does that even mean? All our lives we are told to do the right thing, look the right way, have the right body, speak the right words, go to the right school, get the right job, marry the right man or the right woman, raise our kids the right way…

For the last week, I have grappled with the want to write this essay the “right” way. Until now.

She

Struck by realization like a lightning bolt: she was wasting her time trying to define her experiences as good or bad, right or wrong — it was all just life. Instead, she decided to remind herself that she was brave, strong, and creative enough to handle anything.

I am now sitting here, laughing, finally letting go of feeling obligated to write the “right” essay. We can only make it our truth, own what that truth is, and trust that it is enough.

So I will write it my way, because it is my story, my body. There is a certain freedom that comes from the act of accepting: not chasing, not retreating — simply being, as a living being.

Rather ironically, the passage on Death from the book the Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran, spoke to me the most in this process of living:

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink form the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountaintop, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

I am so grateful for this opportunity to embody my body in this newfound way, and know that process may take days, months, years, my entire life, to learn and live and love. To embody is to make a choice, to breathe in the space in between; to soak up stillness with toe curling contentment, as well as wide spread arms and fingers outstretched for the next moment, motion, movement.

She

Blessed is she, with a body that can dance.

Keri

Keri – USA

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To Mend.  To forgive.  To re-member peace.  It takes one, sometimes.  And sometimes, it takes two.

She asks me is there a place on your body that feels disconnected or you’d like to speak to, and I say my belly.  And she comes from behind me, deliberate and caring against my belly, her forearms cradling my hips.

These hips, she says, are beautiful, solid and strong, and well-adapted.

She holds my core, places my hands underneath hers, and lingers.  The Divine feminine loves a slow, savoring, inviting courtship.  After my guard surrenders, I feel my belly give way, no resistance, no fighting.

Only gravity and me. And a witness, courting my Wholeness.

And I breathe.  The deepest breath yet of the day, from my bowels, I inhale.  I soften. I am breathed by the Universe, by Creation, as a promise to Life and Purpose.  This radical permission bursts forth from under my hands.  I remember this.

Home. Under her hands.  An offering, a simple act.  To hold.  Connect.  Affirm.  A profound humility and triumph to find myself taking up space, proud and full.  At the suggestion.  Naked.  Vulnerable.  Accepted.  This comfort seeps deep in my bones, my sinew, becomes Whole Food for my body, this chalice, this transmitter to my Experience.  My beloved place of weakest connection surges positive affirmations and her dignity is restored under the care and skill of a lover of healing, a lover of pleasure, a lover of the sacred Mending and Seeing, the joyful and sensual re-connection to our bodies.

And that was this morning, before I meet Erica on the banks of the Swannanoa.  This morning swirls with plenty new sensual moments over the last month that have answered my sultry and exploratory dreams of self-acceptance and openness to love.   On the clutches of jumping my hometown nest for a few months, I’m taking Radical to a whole new self-love, sisterhood and planetary stewardship level.  And it feels divine!

For the photo shoot, I meet my Big self on the bank.  I passed through the river, with all my parts.  Through frigid waters my spirit acclimates and ensures steady footing.  With a smile on my face, and all the exquisite laughter and lightness of recent love expressed, shared and felt, I forge the river in my best buff.  I feel my toes numb, my hairs stand on end, my thighs turn pink at the steady nagging of the water’s chill.  Through the stimulating waters, my body is returned to me, in its perfect form.  Pink.  Raw.  Alive.  This one devastatingly daring life, I sparked my own wondrous and enchanting initiation.  To my wilding.  To my nature.  To this joyful commitment to Wholeness.

And I look there beyond the waters whose ripples bring nutrients to the banks, my destination.  Precious and powerful Water, she sows the seed of potential and destruction at her whim, and laps the shores with no hesitation.  I scurry between submerged boulders, then footpath, then between stoic trees that yield and bend with the bank to know the larger love of surrender.  To be shaped by love.  To yield to love. To truly love ourselves as a radical statement to know peace.  We get there on our own and with others’ loving reflections of our gifts, our Wholeness.  Witnessing ourselves as intact, playful, embodied, and awake, peace is our daily joyful activism and life is art, blossoming.

Heather

Heather – USA

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I really enjoyed doing this photo shoot because it reminded me how much I enjoy being naked, especially in nature, and it made me appreciate my body more.  I have been photographed, painted and drawn naked by friends, lovers, and for art classes, so I did not feel much trepidation about being photographed.  I felt extremely comfortable with Erica.  After the shoot I felt relaxed and had a renewed appreciation for my body and also for photography.

My feelings about my body are very much tied to sexuality.  I am not sure if that is a good thing, but that is just how it happened for me.  As a child (age 4) I was molested for over a year by two neighbors a young man aged 14 and a young woman aged 17.  It was extremely traumatic for me, especially with the boy/man as he was sadistic and would threaten to kill me or my brother or dog if I told anyone.  He also said that I was “ugly and disgusting”, while molesting me, so obviously he had a lot of trauma himself, but at the time I really took it all in and was very hurt by it.  I also numbed out and “left” my body and I think I have struggled ever since to really be here, not just in my body but on the earth as a human.   This has led me to connect with many different forms of healing and art.

What ended up as the most healing thing for me were my subsequent intimate relationships.  I have been blessed with boyfriends and a husband who were extremely loving and appreciative of my body in every way, not just sexually but my appearance and my spirit.  That, more than other healing modalities/therapies, really made me appreciate my own body and my own self. I feel most comfortable being naked in sexually intimate relationships and probably least comfortable being clothed and at a party.

I feel regretful that my first experience of my body was so external, coming from what someone else told me about myself.  I wish my earliest memory of my body was coming from a place of enjoying it from within myself, like feeling the sun on my skin or smelling a flower or dancing.

Another more current experience I have had with my body relates to my weight.  I have spent most of my life 30 pounds lighter than I am now.  Four years ago I took an antidepressant for two years and gained 30 pounds as a result, which has not come off, even though I am no longer taking the medication.  That has been really difficult for me as I feel kind of “out of place” in my own body and a bit more self-conscious than I have been in the past.  That is still an ongoing process for me.

Traveling has really affected me in a myriad of ways.  Related to body image, it has shown me how many different body types there are and that what is beautiful or sexy in one culture is different than what is beautiful/sexy in another.

I find it sad that American culture really uses women’s sexuality to sell US stuff, and so we end up participating in our own oppression.

I realize that being born in the 70s, I am a part of the first time in recent history that women, who have traditionally been valued for reproduction alone (i.e. not for their minds or spirits and not allowed education, voting rights, creative work outside of creating children, or independence outside of family), are, in a societally condoned way, stepping out of just being mothers and really seeing who we are.  In that old traditional type of society it makes sense that only a firm young fertile body would be considered beautiful because fertility is their sole purpose. I think now, beauty standards and how we as women value ourselves and are valued will change for the better.

Dominique

Dominique – USA

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The Feral Goddess

Once upon a time there was a feral goddess who met a wizard from distant lands. The wild nature of this feral goddess attracted the wizard to share the rhythms of the forest. There she felt her heart awakening to new possibilities of joy through singing, dancing and waterfalls. She never knew this kind of love existed! She felt so open to the magic that one day she fell into a spell of terror. Confused by the terror, she attempted to sing and not even the tiniest sound would come from her mouth, and when she attempted to dance her body would freeze into ice. Unable to break the spell, the wizard had to continue his pursuits to learn the powers of the oceans. The feral goddess was at the depths of the underworld.

For days and nights, the feral goddess would lay on a stone in the middle of the river and cry to the mountains. In the darkness of a new moon and surrounded by the sounds of the forest, she trembled like a soft animal and her skin would shed like a snake. She looked up at the vast sky, calling upon the stars for guidance; tears would fall down her cheeks.

During the act of her invocation she heard the sounds of deep HUMMMS. “What is that?” the goddess exclaimed.

Then, in the blink of an eye a fairy named Fox flew right in front of her face, and he spoke. “I have come from the prayers of a heart full of grief. Your voice is so powerful that the mountains started to shake. Why must you cry goddess?” The feral goddess confessed, “I am scared that I will never sing and dance or love again!” Fox smirked and gently giggled, “Goddess, you are infinite expressions of love. Your wild nature is the essence of your being, and has inspired the wizard to show you the magic of the forest! With the magic you experienced through your songs and dance, you will now know the ways of the forest! Remember that these feelings are the keys to your greatest gifts. Use your voice to sing the beauty you are and know that the love you feel for the wizard is you.”

The feral goddess placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes. The tears rolling down her checks turned into love and gratitude. “One more thing goddess,” Fox announced. “I brought you a drum. Go to the waterfall with this drum and dance and sing your remembrance. The drum will help you feel the Earth below you, because you are Heaven. It is time for you to bring the heavens you carry inside of you to the forest.”

The feral goddess went to the waterfall with the drum. She sang her most joyous heart songs to the waterfall and gave gratitude to the wizard, imagining the water connecting to the ocean. She knew then that her truest love was the dance and in that knowledge her essence became one, in marriage, with the world.

David

David – USA

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Oh, mud.

Sitting on the river bank warming myself with a hot toddy after the shoot, I notice a woman in the distance tumbling off the path down the river bank. Erica and I hurry up the trail and find her, still on the phone, trying to figure out how to crawl back up the muddy, sandy slope. Each of us taking an arm, we get her back on the trail. Her tears show embarrassment and frustration as she dusts herself off, “Oh no, I’m all muddy,” she sniffles worriedly before thanking us and continuing on her path.

This day was all about getting muddy. It was about giving myself permission to be dirty and unattractive and messy. It was about playing in that mud and washing away the anxiety and weight of perfection. It was a celebration of grit and chaos and the lower self; it was a homecoming.

Embodiment has always resonated with me. I have faced the demons of insecurity on the physical plane. I have long ago danced naked in the sun and conquered the dragons guarding the treasures of sexual freedom. But despite these victories, I have lately found myself far from the path of living an empowered, embodied life. I find myself ungrounded and tired, lost in a labyrinth of addictive consumption: food, alcohol, entertainment, anything I can throw into the bottomless pit of dissatisfaction for temporary relief. And as I’ve tried to feed these false idols, the seeds of fear and insecurity began to take hold and spread like weeds choking off the flowers of confidence and joy I’d previously planted.

And so there I was, off of my path at the bottom of the riverbank covered in mud; embarrassed of where I’d let myself fall to; embarrassed to ask for help; embarrassed to be seen.

And now is the time I stand up and climb out. Now is the time I laugh at myself for getting so upset over a little mess. Now is the time I return to my body. Now is the time to remember that mud is to be celebrated. I remembered it as I stood naked in the river and dug between the rocks for mud with curiosity at its varying makeup. I remembered as I sifted through it with my hands and marveled at how rich and vibrant the mud was. I remembered as I ran the mud through my hair I basked in the creative powers of the lower self. I remembered as I laughed and sang at the grand sense of humor of God.

Bert

Bert – USA

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I grew up in a household that was very open, and clothes weren’t necessarily required.

We saw each other naked, not every day, but it just wasn’t a big deal.  If somebody went down the hall without their clothes, that was ok.  This was in the 1930s.  My father was very Victorian, but it was not unusual to see him or my mother or sister nude in the house.  Because of that I’m probably more comfortable without clothes than most people.  I was lucky.  I grew up in the Great Depression.  I was a teenager in WWII.  I was 12 at the time of Pearl Harbor.

I’m a very open person to start with, on almost any subject.  I don’t recall that I’ve never had nude photos taken before.  I’ve had a lot of one-on-one nudity but never in public.  It just wasn’t my generation.  I’d like to have the body I had when I was 40 or 30, but bodies don’t get better through the ages, they generally get a little more out of shape, a little more broken here or there.  Your belly falls a little and your breasts fall a little and your tummy falls a little…gravity works on all of us every day.

Bodies are a complex issue that keeps arising through life.  It’s shaped by parents, by contemporaries and school, and by ten years old it begins to be shaped by television, television, television.  America is greatly hung up on beauty and youth.  At 84 I’m probably less critical and less involved with the height, width, size, and shape of bodies.  I see the personality and the soul and not just the housing.  Take care of your body, it houses the soul.

I’ve had a very active adult life.  Lots of exploring and adventures.  I pretty much steer my own course.  I think it was Mark Twain who said,  “I was born excited.”  I’ve taken a hard run at life for a long time.  And I’m not done yet!