Hanging out with kids is so great. They are constantly experiencing and growing. It's an amazing process to witness. Lately, I've been thinking that we need a comparable process for adults. I look at us adults and think we're just big unfinished kids. We so don't have it together. We just have no clue.
Men especially, in my biased observation. And we're supposed to be in charge and looking after the kids.
Last week, I took Claire and her best buddy Sarah to see the Wiggles (as Dave describes them, creepy phony Australian gay guys dancing for kids). The girls were a little too old for the show but still enjoyed it. It cost more than $90 for us in the cheap seats. I declined to buy the girls the $20 souvenir flashlight. But there were people down on the floor ($45 tickets) with $20 flashlights.
I sort of get it. I think on some level we adults know that North American childhood is this blessed state that will come crashing to an end. We want to be able to give our kids an experience of joy before they get it crushed out of them. I think we're fucked up in lots of the ways we go about it. But I do get that it's about acknowledging that what we have isn't enough--I don't mean in terms of material; I mean in spiritual terms. It's just sad that the $20 flashlight becomes the $50,000 car or whatever. We do not get it.
Ecofeminist, inconvenient prophet, artist, activist, cancer survivor, mother. Radical vulnerability on behalf of the collective. Using nakedness—literal+figurative. Processing my pain.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Trudge, Trudge
I am supposedly starting in the M Ed program at the U of L next week. I am not excited about it. I have to pay money, take time and use energy to move toward getting a degree so I can have more opportunity (one hopes) to do what I am already really good at. Not so I will get better at what I am already really good at. But so I have the right piece of paper.
I find it really irritating and hilarious that one of the main reasons I was accepted into the program is that I have a Bachelor's degree. I finished my BA 25 years ago. I am not exaggerating when I say that I learned almost nothing at university. I was 21 when I graduated. Incredibly naive. But I knew how to write sentences. Since then, I have learned a great deal and become a very wise person. Who gives a shit? The fact that the education system is based on marks in regulated classes seems very flawed and limited, not the be-all-end-all we're stuck with.
Anyway, I'll see how it goes. Maybe it will be interesting or fun. It's just that I feel shitty and it feels like a burden.
I find it really irritating and hilarious that one of the main reasons I was accepted into the program is that I have a Bachelor's degree. I finished my BA 25 years ago. I am not exaggerating when I say that I learned almost nothing at university. I was 21 when I graduated. Incredibly naive. But I knew how to write sentences. Since then, I have learned a great deal and become a very wise person. Who gives a shit? The fact that the education system is based on marks in regulated classes seems very flawed and limited, not the be-all-end-all we're stuck with.
Anyway, I'll see how it goes. Maybe it will be interesting or fun. It's just that I feel shitty and it feels like a burden.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Sick Again
I wanted to write about ill health, my ill health. Since sinking into illness again this time, I've decided to give myself a break. I have what is commonly called chronic fatigue syndrome. If I were to name it, I would say that I am very sensitive. Whatever. I get sick a lot. I've tried everything. I've beaten myself up for years for "not figuring it out." People with cerebral palsy, for instance, probably don't need to do this to themselves. Do I believe that it is spiritually related? Yes. Does that make me any more able to "figure it out?" Apparently not. This is me, this is how my body is.
Tasha, Naked Moderator
I seem to finally be rising out of a deep dip into sickness since the event over two weeks ago. I haven't thought much about the event. Just kind of surviving at being a mom and being thankful that my husband picks up a lot of the slack and doesn't mind frozen shit for dinner.
I wanted to write more about the last event but it's kind of not fresh in my mind now. Two words that people either spoke or wrote interest me. Purity. Spontaneity. Both of these concepts matter a lot to me. During the event I was happy to hear from Megan that she felt she had experienced purity. I realize that I need and want these higher, deeper feelings and that it's difficult to experience them in the dumbed-down consumerism water that we swim in. Here's an analogy. Lethbridge. Got a lot going for it but not a pretty place (besides the natural beauty of the coulees and river valley--thank God for something!). The architecture is ugly, the mostly new housing developments are ugly, the downtown is ugly, big box store-land is ugly. It's western North America. Built for cars, commercialization, function, economies of scale and lack of imagination. Regulated ugliness. And with the world's ugliest university! But, hey, some people think Arthur Erickson is a genius.
Everybody is used to ugly and most people don't even notice that they're missing something: beauty.
Or good food. I am always amazed that my students will reveal that they have never tasted eggplant or black olives or cilantro or frickin real cheddar cheese. Yet they will tell you that Moxie's is the best restaurant in town (sadly, it is up there). I know I probably sound like a snob, but it's depressing to me that people aren't aware of good food. I need beauty. I need delicious food. I need purity and spontaneity. But the world isn't set up for that. By purity, I mean something like real connection, real emotion. And by spontaneity, I mean just letting things happen.
I teach public speaking at the college. I love it. One thing I often say to my husband is that during my class I get to create the world the way I want it. It's not that hard. We make some agreements. We agree that we're allowed to disagree. We agree to listen to each other. We agree to support each other. We agree not to trash talk. We agree to use constructive criticism.
Everybody gets a lot of standing ovations including me. Even though I basically make them do it, I love my standing ovations. We have a lot of fun and everyone improves. The group gets really tight. I teach it like a workshop so I hardly lecture; we discuss speeches in the moment. Spontaneity and connection--it's a joy for me and for the students.
I realized that the last Human Body Project event felt like a space and time where I got to create another environment that allowed me and the people who were there to more fully and deeply experience our humanity. Not everyone necessarily is missing that or requiring that; but many of us are and we have nowhere to go. Some people are able to choose religion but, for me and many others, the dogma (and trash talk) of religion is off-putting.
During the last event I recall myself talking more than I probably needed to. But I enjoyed much of the discussion that went on. It felt thoughtful and sincere. I was really moved by the women joining me--they made their decisions in the moment. I was moved by the humanity of the men present. There was a lot of connection, spontaneity, openness, authenticity. It makes me see how much I yearn for this in my life.
One woman wrote that she wonders how something like this can continue to be spontaneous. I do wonder that myself. When I worked at Kripalu Center in Massachusetts, I was amazed at how easy it was for me to teach experiential workshops. I have a real ability to let things happen. I get in my way sometimes too (like talking too much at the last event). But as I used to tell my creativity classes to chant: I'm allowed to fuck up. I think if I can dream up a way to make HBP into some kind of ongoing thing, I'll just have to trust my facilitator skills.
I'm running out of steam here. Not sure how coherent this is.
I wanted to write more about the last event but it's kind of not fresh in my mind now. Two words that people either spoke or wrote interest me. Purity. Spontaneity. Both of these concepts matter a lot to me. During the event I was happy to hear from Megan that she felt she had experienced purity. I realize that I need and want these higher, deeper feelings and that it's difficult to experience them in the dumbed-down consumerism water that we swim in. Here's an analogy. Lethbridge. Got a lot going for it but not a pretty place (besides the natural beauty of the coulees and river valley--thank God for something!). The architecture is ugly, the mostly new housing developments are ugly, the downtown is ugly, big box store-land is ugly. It's western North America. Built for cars, commercialization, function, economies of scale and lack of imagination. Regulated ugliness. And with the world's ugliest university! But, hey, some people think Arthur Erickson is a genius.
Everybody is used to ugly and most people don't even notice that they're missing something: beauty.
Or good food. I am always amazed that my students will reveal that they have never tasted eggplant or black olives or cilantro or frickin real cheddar cheese. Yet they will tell you that Moxie's is the best restaurant in town (sadly, it is up there). I know I probably sound like a snob, but it's depressing to me that people aren't aware of good food. I need beauty. I need delicious food. I need purity and spontaneity. But the world isn't set up for that. By purity, I mean something like real connection, real emotion. And by spontaneity, I mean just letting things happen.
I teach public speaking at the college. I love it. One thing I often say to my husband is that during my class I get to create the world the way I want it. It's not that hard. We make some agreements. We agree that we're allowed to disagree. We agree to listen to each other. We agree to support each other. We agree not to trash talk. We agree to use constructive criticism.
Everybody gets a lot of standing ovations including me. Even though I basically make them do it, I love my standing ovations. We have a lot of fun and everyone improves. The group gets really tight. I teach it like a workshop so I hardly lecture; we discuss speeches in the moment. Spontaneity and connection--it's a joy for me and for the students.
I realized that the last Human Body Project event felt like a space and time where I got to create another environment that allowed me and the people who were there to more fully and deeply experience our humanity. Not everyone necessarily is missing that or requiring that; but many of us are and we have nowhere to go. Some people are able to choose religion but, for me and many others, the dogma (and trash talk) of religion is off-putting.
During the last event I recall myself talking more than I probably needed to. But I enjoyed much of the discussion that went on. It felt thoughtful and sincere. I was really moved by the women joining me--they made their decisions in the moment. I was moved by the humanity of the men present. There was a lot of connection, spontaneity, openness, authenticity. It makes me see how much I yearn for this in my life.
One woman wrote that she wonders how something like this can continue to be spontaneous. I do wonder that myself. When I worked at Kripalu Center in Massachusetts, I was amazed at how easy it was for me to teach experiential workshops. I have a real ability to let things happen. I get in my way sometimes too (like talking too much at the last event). But as I used to tell my creativity classes to chant: I'm allowed to fuck up. I think if I can dream up a way to make HBP into some kind of ongoing thing, I'll just have to trust my facilitator skills.
I'm running out of steam here. Not sure how coherent this is.
Monday, April 7, 2008
HBP 3
Like Corinne said last year, it seems like I've invented a new religion. Or, as I'd put it, it seems like I've invented a new therapy or a new class (Naked 101). Whatever it is (and art, to me, is therapy and religion and education--like how do you separate those words anyway?) HBP feels like something we need to do once a week, I see a combo support group/church/reality tv show/contemporary art project.
I used to go to some 12-step groups and never fit into their definitions of dysfunction. I wasn't an alcoholic. I wasn't a child of alcoholics. I wasn't an overeater. I was, however, really miserable, lost and fucked up. I always used to say that we need a new 12-step group: Hi, I'm Tasha and I'm a fucked up human being. Like join the club, eh?
After Friday night I feel less fucked up. It started off with me coming out undressed and I have to admit that even though I felt a lot of trepidation about showing up naked again, it's just easier to do it after you've already done it. I didn't feel that vulnerable to tell the truth. Weird, definitely, but not overly vulnerable. The way we light the room for the cameras is kinder to my body, I would say, than my at-home lights. There are mirrors in the room. I didn't think I looked hideous. I wouldn't have called myself beautiful, but I also was not hideous. It's crazy, I know, but I was relieved not to look hideous.
I also was sitting there thinking, what, actually, is the big deal, really, being naked and all?
Then Jena joined me! She came out undressed and--kapow!--my first thought was: Jena is beautiful! I hope this does not offend Jena but I was taken aback by the strength of that thought. I am a person who is very indoctrinated by the idea that big boobs and long legs is the only female body worth having. Jena has short legs and small boobs and she is beautiful. Like I don't mean just in that loving sense that we are all beautiful, but I mean in an aesthetic sense. I have been held captive by my aesthetic notions for a long time. Seeing her beauty was a real eye-opener for me. My whole life I have wished for large breasts. I love big boobs. If it didn't mean loss of nipple sensation, I am pretty sure I'd get a boob job. I loved my breast-feeding breasts but, because of their toils in the work of breast-feeding, sadly, I didn't want my husband touching them. Anyway, in that moment of seeing Jena naked, she helped me see myself differently. Like I had permission not to have big boobs and skinny legs.
It felt great to have a pal up there! My whole point in a way is, hey, we're all in the same boat. It was nice to have someone in my boat, so to speak. Then Megan joined us and then Marie joined us. Four naked ladies. I'm hoping that Jena, Marie and Megan will post their experiences on this blog. For me, it was wonderful to be up there with three other completely real human naked ladies. All of the women are in their twenties (I haven't fact-checked this but I'm pretty sure). And not once did I feel the need to compare my body unfavourably. It really is powerful for me to have companions. Some people are fine doing things on their own but I've always enjoyed collaboration and group energy. I think my feelings of isolation and need for community have been a big reason for my sickness and depression/lostness/fucked-upness. So with the other women up there I settled into a really comfortable feeling of togetherness.
Jesse, a young man, spoke to us. One of the things he said has also helped me feel like, yes, I am on the right track, and yes, people do need this, because he addressed an important problem that I find really troubling. He said something like: I am less challenged looking at you guys than I am when I flip through the pages of a magazine. I can't remember exactly what else he said to elaborate but basically he was saying that when he looks at the way women are commonly portrayed he is uncomfortable but us four naked ladies in the flesh (three of them lovely women in their twenties) felt cool: because, I am surmising, we were not posed for the delectation of men. I feel so moved by the humanity of that. Like, finally, a man can notice that the way women are portrayed is inhumane! I've written something like this before, but what is with the fathers of daughters, husbands of wives, boyfriends of girlfriends, and brothers of sisters that this is fucking news?!
I was also very moved by Megan's words, which, again, I can't fully recall. One word she used to describe the experience is purity.
I'll continue this in my next entry.
I used to go to some 12-step groups and never fit into their definitions of dysfunction. I wasn't an alcoholic. I wasn't a child of alcoholics. I wasn't an overeater. I was, however, really miserable, lost and fucked up. I always used to say that we need a new 12-step group: Hi, I'm Tasha and I'm a fucked up human being. Like join the club, eh?
After Friday night I feel less fucked up. It started off with me coming out undressed and I have to admit that even though I felt a lot of trepidation about showing up naked again, it's just easier to do it after you've already done it. I didn't feel that vulnerable to tell the truth. Weird, definitely, but not overly vulnerable. The way we light the room for the cameras is kinder to my body, I would say, than my at-home lights. There are mirrors in the room. I didn't think I looked hideous. I wouldn't have called myself beautiful, but I also was not hideous. It's crazy, I know, but I was relieved not to look hideous.
I also was sitting there thinking, what, actually, is the big deal, really, being naked and all?
Then Jena joined me! She came out undressed and--kapow!--my first thought was: Jena is beautiful! I hope this does not offend Jena but I was taken aback by the strength of that thought. I am a person who is very indoctrinated by the idea that big boobs and long legs is the only female body worth having. Jena has short legs and small boobs and she is beautiful. Like I don't mean just in that loving sense that we are all beautiful, but I mean in an aesthetic sense. I have been held captive by my aesthetic notions for a long time. Seeing her beauty was a real eye-opener for me. My whole life I have wished for large breasts. I love big boobs. If it didn't mean loss of nipple sensation, I am pretty sure I'd get a boob job. I loved my breast-feeding breasts but, because of their toils in the work of breast-feeding, sadly, I didn't want my husband touching them. Anyway, in that moment of seeing Jena naked, she helped me see myself differently. Like I had permission not to have big boobs and skinny legs.
It felt great to have a pal up there! My whole point in a way is, hey, we're all in the same boat. It was nice to have someone in my boat, so to speak. Then Megan joined us and then Marie joined us. Four naked ladies. I'm hoping that Jena, Marie and Megan will post their experiences on this blog. For me, it was wonderful to be up there with three other completely real human naked ladies. All of the women are in their twenties (I haven't fact-checked this but I'm pretty sure). And not once did I feel the need to compare my body unfavourably. It really is powerful for me to have companions. Some people are fine doing things on their own but I've always enjoyed collaboration and group energy. I think my feelings of isolation and need for community have been a big reason for my sickness and depression/lostness/fucked-upness. So with the other women up there I settled into a really comfortable feeling of togetherness.
Jesse, a young man, spoke to us. One of the things he said has also helped me feel like, yes, I am on the right track, and yes, people do need this, because he addressed an important problem that I find really troubling. He said something like: I am less challenged looking at you guys than I am when I flip through the pages of a magazine. I can't remember exactly what else he said to elaborate but basically he was saying that when he looks at the way women are commonly portrayed he is uncomfortable but us four naked ladies in the flesh (three of them lovely women in their twenties) felt cool: because, I am surmising, we were not posed for the delectation of men. I feel so moved by the humanity of that. Like, finally, a man can notice that the way women are portrayed is inhumane! I've written something like this before, but what is with the fathers of daughters, husbands of wives, boyfriends of girlfriends, and brothers of sisters that this is fucking news?!
I was also very moved by Megan's words, which, again, I can't fully recall. One word she used to describe the experience is purity.
I'll continue this in my next entry.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Back to HBP and HBP blog
It's been more than a year since I've blogged and more than a year since I've given much time to this project. And now I'm about to get naked again which as an artist I find quite interesting and as me, an aging 46-year-old woman, I find quite stressful. The week before naked time is always weird.
One thing that is really going on for me is that my husband will see me naked and for him, of all people, I'd rather look different. This is a) my own shit and b) idiotic because, besides my kids, he is the only person who regularly sees me naked anyway. But I am furtively naked with Dave. I weigh 15 pounds more than before Sophia. My breastfeeding boobs are gone and my boobs are small and somewhat saggy. The boob to hip/thigh ratio is not what I would choose. A friend recently asked me if I was ten years older than my husband (I'm two years younger) and a lady, seeing me with Sophia, asked if I was her grandmother or great-grandmother. I seem to be bearing out the commonly held attitude that nature is not kind to women. And I suffer this.
I hate that I expend energy on this. My husband and kids love me. My husband desires me. This body created two beautiful beings. For me, this project is about learning to love myself. Fuck, it's hard work. I'm so not trained that way.
Another thing that is going on for me is that I feel like shit. I've written in the past about my illness. One thing I thought might happen with this project is that it would be a healing exercise for me. I still think that's true but what a fucking process. No instant healing catharses for this gal. My latest ailments include severe back ache, dizzy/fuzzy brain, fatigue and certain difficulties of the nether regions that I can't yet bring myself to write about.
Those of you lucky enough to have faith in the medical paradigm will be glad to know that I have been diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. No surprises there. Not much they can do (antidepressants are often prescribed; I have little faith in the worth of those drugs and many studies bear out my misgivings). I have been arriving at a not yet fully articulated, updated interpretation of my illness. First of all, I still understand it to be a whole-person/mind-body-spirit disorder. I also have some curiosity about the idea that there are some of us who are the "filters" of dysfunction, in other words either we feel it more or our bodies actually clear energy for the larger group. Anyway, I am coming to believe that my illness and struggles mirror the dysfunction of our times.
To try to explain... another thing that goes on for me, something that is very painful for me, is my invisibility and how little who I am is valued. This is difficult to write about because I presume I come across as some kind of egomaniac. But that is not my point. I believe I have awareness and wisdom that is completely underutilized. I am a mother who fully understands the beauty and sacredness of children and the mother-child bond. I live in a culture that has no interest in mothering the mothers. I am a contract teacher at the college (and sometimes at the U)--the absolute lowest on the ladder. I have no job security, no membership in the "club", no credibility without the right letters after my name, etc. Yet I am the kind of teacher who makes a difference in people's lives. I see so many simple ways that the education system could be improved--but they require changes in attitude.
As an artist, I chose to basically ignore the established route to be an artist because I believe first and foremost in nurturing creativity. I don't understand the bulldog grip the established art world has on focusing on the intellect (well, fundamentally, I'd say it's about being safe and avoiding too much emotion). As a woman, I'm expected to be hot, a good mother, a good wife and a successful something-or-other. My body with its menstrual cycles and post-childbirth, aging sagginess should not be discussed. As a person, I feel deep feelings about the atrocities of this world and the future for my children--again, not for polite company.
I am not alone in living with what I call this non-alignment. I don't think I'm even that unique as a person who is sick because of it. Maybe my take on it can make a difference for others. And as I work through it here, I hope I can arrive at more self-acceptance. I do feel like I am moving forward, slow as it seems.
One thing that is really going on for me is that my husband will see me naked and for him, of all people, I'd rather look different. This is a) my own shit and b) idiotic because, besides my kids, he is the only person who regularly sees me naked anyway. But I am furtively naked with Dave. I weigh 15 pounds more than before Sophia. My breastfeeding boobs are gone and my boobs are small and somewhat saggy. The boob to hip/thigh ratio is not what I would choose. A friend recently asked me if I was ten years older than my husband (I'm two years younger) and a lady, seeing me with Sophia, asked if I was her grandmother or great-grandmother. I seem to be bearing out the commonly held attitude that nature is not kind to women. And I suffer this.
I hate that I expend energy on this. My husband and kids love me. My husband desires me. This body created two beautiful beings. For me, this project is about learning to love myself. Fuck, it's hard work. I'm so not trained that way.
Another thing that is going on for me is that I feel like shit. I've written in the past about my illness. One thing I thought might happen with this project is that it would be a healing exercise for me. I still think that's true but what a fucking process. No instant healing catharses for this gal. My latest ailments include severe back ache, dizzy/fuzzy brain, fatigue and certain difficulties of the nether regions that I can't yet bring myself to write about.
Those of you lucky enough to have faith in the medical paradigm will be glad to know that I have been diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. No surprises there. Not much they can do (antidepressants are often prescribed; I have little faith in the worth of those drugs and many studies bear out my misgivings). I have been arriving at a not yet fully articulated, updated interpretation of my illness. First of all, I still understand it to be a whole-person/mind-body-spirit disorder. I also have some curiosity about the idea that there are some of us who are the "filters" of dysfunction, in other words either we feel it more or our bodies actually clear energy for the larger group. Anyway, I am coming to believe that my illness and struggles mirror the dysfunction of our times.
To try to explain... another thing that goes on for me, something that is very painful for me, is my invisibility and how little who I am is valued. This is difficult to write about because I presume I come across as some kind of egomaniac. But that is not my point. I believe I have awareness and wisdom that is completely underutilized. I am a mother who fully understands the beauty and sacredness of children and the mother-child bond. I live in a culture that has no interest in mothering the mothers. I am a contract teacher at the college (and sometimes at the U)--the absolute lowest on the ladder. I have no job security, no membership in the "club", no credibility without the right letters after my name, etc. Yet I am the kind of teacher who makes a difference in people's lives. I see so many simple ways that the education system could be improved--but they require changes in attitude.
As an artist, I chose to basically ignore the established route to be an artist because I believe first and foremost in nurturing creativity. I don't understand the bulldog grip the established art world has on focusing on the intellect (well, fundamentally, I'd say it's about being safe and avoiding too much emotion). As a woman, I'm expected to be hot, a good mother, a good wife and a successful something-or-other. My body with its menstrual cycles and post-childbirth, aging sagginess should not be discussed. As a person, I feel deep feelings about the atrocities of this world and the future for my children--again, not for polite company.
I am not alone in living with what I call this non-alignment. I don't think I'm even that unique as a person who is sick because of it. Maybe my take on it can make a difference for others. And as I work through it here, I hope I can arrive at more self-acceptance. I do feel like I am moving forward, slow as it seems.
Some Encouragement
I often have to tell myself: you're on the right track; you're moving forward; hang in there. Here are a few comments I've received lately that are encouraging.
From Larissa in Australia:
this work is truly amazing.
i live in Australia & i am completing my yr 12 HSC this year & for art im doing a peice on the human body in its natural form. this has evolved from the origional concept of 'protection' of the unborn child by the mother & the womb, but as i find new inspiration it broardens.
your work in this HBP is by far the MOST inspirational work i have found, & am likely to find.
its so raw & beautiful...everything about it.
the blog is so interesting just to hear what you have to say about everything, about your girls & your husband & peoples reaction to your work & when you have events & how you feel about what happens & how you feel about how they went & your expectation beforehand.
its honestly intreguing to even begin to comprehend how you feel being naked infront of so many people.
As a part of my body of work, i have made full body prints of myself. this meant i had to be fully naked while my mum painted me & pressed up agains massive peices of paper, after doing these the day i took them to school & showed the teacher she was pretty excited because of how well they turned out, but the rest of the class didnt get it, they looked at me strage because i got naked & painted & stuck myself to paper... the most important thing to me at that time was to make them realise that i wasnt doing it to show my body off (im a 17 year old girl), as you mentioned in the January 4, 2007 blog 'private Vs. public" naked = sexual...which leads to the judgment about beauty/sexiness, but seeing your work now, i realise that i was just trying to redeem some sick sense of detatchment from the reality that is my body.. that is the human body in everyones oppinion in general i guess.
which is ironic that i immediatly felt that way if im looking at it in the light that i am,
but anyway..thankyou so so much for the inspiration.. you are wonderful.
take care.
From Jess in Lethbridge:
I've never seen anything quite like this before. Raw. Live. Personal and Private all at once. Courageous. Judge-less. Inspiring. Against the Norm. But then, what is normal? Humbling. Shameless for the presenter as well as the viewer. Beautiful.
I don't really know what I'm trying to say, or why I really clicked on the 'contact us' button. I just needed to put that out there. Those are the first things that came to mind when I toured through the different types of art, as well as the photos. Amazing. I will try to attend to have my own creativity flow.
Cheers
Jess
From John in southern Alberta:
Dear Tasha,
I congratulate you with your new Motherhood. Nudity is not strange to me. I grew up in Europe and many beaches were clothing optional. I spent a year in Germany on sabbatical and went to the public sauna once a week. Similarly, I regularly went to a nude beach when in Australia for a year. The thing that always fascinated me was the Gaussian curve of human bodies, and yet, all those bodies represented Homo sapiens. Of course, pluck 100 leaves of a tree and one will see a Gaussian (may be sometimes somewhat skewed) curve re shapes of leaves. The same with the human body. I have made a note of your next staging. You will not be in my eyes vulnerable; you will be who you are as a human being. I will try to come to support you silently in your art project. I laud your effort.
Regards, John
From Lisa in Lethbridge:
Hi Tasha,
I don't know if I will be able to make it, but I will be sending you good vibes the whole time -- you are a strong, amazing, beautiful person and I admire your dedication to this art form.
Good luck!
Lisa
P.S. FWIW, when I look at my own body and its very weird twin skin (among other new additions over the years), I try to remember the power of pregnancy and childbirth instead of some impossible "ideal". The strength and power it took to grow and birth three living beings is amazing to me, still... and I feel the same about all women, that we have this incredible strength and ability that men can't ever really know...
From Larissa in Australia:
this work is truly amazing.
i live in Australia & i am completing my yr 12 HSC this year & for art im doing a peice on the human body in its natural form. this has evolved from the origional concept of 'protection' of the unborn child by the mother & the womb, but as i find new inspiration it broardens.
your work in this HBP is by far the MOST inspirational work i have found, & am likely to find.
its so raw & beautiful...everything about it.
the blog is so interesting just to hear what you have to say about everything, about your girls & your husband & peoples reaction to your work & when you have events & how you feel about what happens & how you feel about how they went & your expectation beforehand.
its honestly intreguing to even begin to comprehend how you feel being naked infront of so many people.
As a part of my body of work, i have made full body prints of myself. this meant i had to be fully naked while my mum painted me & pressed up agains massive peices of paper, after doing these the day i took them to school & showed the teacher she was pretty excited because of how well they turned out, but the rest of the class didnt get it, they looked at me strage because i got naked & painted & stuck myself to paper... the most important thing to me at that time was to make them realise that i wasnt doing it to show my body off (im a 17 year old girl), as you mentioned in the January 4, 2007 blog 'private Vs. public" naked = sexual...which leads to the judgment about beauty/sexiness, but seeing your work now, i realise that i was just trying to redeem some sick sense of detatchment from the reality that is my body.. that is the human body in everyones oppinion in general i guess.
which is ironic that i immediatly felt that way if im looking at it in the light that i am,
but anyway..thankyou so so much for the inspiration.. you are wonderful.
take care.
From Jess in Lethbridge:
I've never seen anything quite like this before. Raw. Live. Personal and Private all at once. Courageous. Judge-less. Inspiring. Against the Norm. But then, what is normal? Humbling. Shameless for the presenter as well as the viewer. Beautiful.
I don't really know what I'm trying to say, or why I really clicked on the 'contact us' button. I just needed to put that out there. Those are the first things that came to mind when I toured through the different types of art, as well as the photos. Amazing. I will try to attend to have my own creativity flow.
Cheers
Jess
From John in southern Alberta:
Dear Tasha,
I congratulate you with your new Motherhood. Nudity is not strange to me. I grew up in Europe and many beaches were clothing optional. I spent a year in Germany on sabbatical and went to the public sauna once a week. Similarly, I regularly went to a nude beach when in Australia for a year. The thing that always fascinated me was the Gaussian curve of human bodies, and yet, all those bodies represented Homo sapiens. Of course, pluck 100 leaves of a tree and one will see a Gaussian (may be sometimes somewhat skewed) curve re shapes of leaves. The same with the human body. I have made a note of your next staging. You will not be in my eyes vulnerable; you will be who you are as a human being. I will try to come to support you silently in your art project. I laud your effort.
Regards, John
From Lisa in Lethbridge:
Hi Tasha,
I don't know if I will be able to make it, but I will be sending you good vibes the whole time -- you are a strong, amazing, beautiful person and I admire your dedication to this art form.
Good luck!
Lisa
P.S. FWIW, when I look at my own body and its very weird twin skin (among other new additions over the years), I try to remember the power of pregnancy and childbirth instead of some impossible "ideal". The strength and power it took to grow and birth three living beings is amazing to me, still... and I feel the same about all women, that we have this incredible strength and ability that men can't ever really know...
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