Naked, nude, male gaze?
A few weeks ago I decided to make a little rethink on my self-portraits. I used to make them without giving them a further though but now I'm trying to be more aware of the photographs I'm doing and the reasons why I'm doing them. One of those unanswered questions (and one I receive a lot) is why naked? I didn't know, I just felt it. And to me was basically a "because I fucking want to". But after giving it a thought and after looking at the amazing work of Francesca Woodman, Sarah R. Bloom, Leila Amat and many others now I have an answer.
I used to be so ashamed of my body. They made me hate it so much. MY body and OTHERS were the ones changing what I thought about it. For the last five years, I have been working on making myself love it. I now love every curve, I love every scar, I love every mark. I love that it is not perfect, I love that it is not how western beauty say its supposed to be. It is not hot or horny it is just beautiful to my eyes. And it will still be beautiful no matter the size of it. I don't let others tell me how I should feel about it and I don't let others tell me what to do with it.
And from that comes the answer, Why nude? Because I don't care. Because I don't see being undressed as a bad thing, I don't see the wrong of it. There, look at me, I don't care. Its just skin, just me. I don't have the need to hide it. Should I hide my boobs but I can show my arms? Says who? Others. Not me. Every time I point my camera to me, every time I take something so personal and precious to me as a self-portrait I feel my clothes in the way, they are not a part of me, they are not a part of my art. They are in between, they are a necessity to others, not to me.
I have already lost so many years believing what others said....not anymore, not my fire, not me.