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25 June 2008 @ 12:24 pm
My Spencer Tunick Experience  
Spencer Tunick Ireland. I signed up soon as I saw the posters. 'Are you brave enough Dublin?' they asked. Hmmmm, was I? I was brave enough with back-up I decided; I didn't want to do it on my own. I racked my brain for a friend who'd be up for en-mass naked madness, and Mia seemed the obvious invitee. I texted her 'Spencer Tunick?', she texted back 'Yes Yes Yes'. And so it was settled, on Saturday 23rd June we'd be stripping to the pelt at some mystery location in dear old dirty Dublin's docklands. 

The installation was to take place at 3am on Saturday morning. I had intended to go home after work on Friday to get a nap and something to eat before catching the bus from Custom House Quay to the mystery location. But I didn't. I went out after work for a pint or five, and even managed to convince the cutest person in the entire universe, Sinead, that nocturnal nude modelling was the way forward. I may have convinced her almost entirely with whiskey, but I convinced her all the same.

Nicely tipsy, at about 11pm I met Mia and her sister Anna off their bus from Galway and brought them back to my little flat for a nutritious pre-Tunick meal of cheese on toast and vodka smoothies. The girls were mad excited. 'I've never seen a naked man before' said Anna, who's just 18. She was gonna see plenty. Sinead called up after a bit, and there was much talk of all the things we'd need to bring - water, biscuits, fresh fruit - but sure there was loads of time to worry about getting it all ready. We'd just relax and have a few drinks and a chat. We didn't need to leave the house til twenty to three. What? Quarter to? Fuck. I'll grab the towels, you grab the... ah feck it there's no time to grab anything, let's just go.

By 3am we were on a bus full of soon-to-be nudes. There was lots of singing, messing, joking, and occassional flashing of the bus behind. 'Gosh, it's hot in here' someone innocently remarked, to a predictable chorus of 'SO TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES!'

We arrived on site and spilled out into salty air and bracing winds. I was sure there'd be somewhere you could get some water. It was a bit of a hike from the carpark to the South quay, and with every step I became more convinced that Adam Sandler would be waiting round the next bend of cobbled quayside with some good H20. Alas, alack, the only water was the briney stuff stretching out to either side of us, over which the sun was rising, making an orangey Kiaora puddle. I'll be your dog, I whined, I'll be your dog. As I panted and witnessed mirages of drinking fountains and great Ballygowan giveaways, Sinead was walking an 'I need to wee' waddle and staring resolutely towards some blue dots in the distance that promised to turn into portaloos. 

Hike hiked, the girls queued for the blue dots, and I asked strangers for water. All was well. We were sheparded off up the pier by a funny viking-bearded chap with a megaphone and told to find a spot to sit amid the assembling crowd. The sea was grey and stormy. The dawn light was melting over it in happy berry-hued defiance. 5am. 2500 people sprawled along the Poolbeg pier, waiting. We chatted and joked with the heads sitting around us. Smoked cigarettes. Examined the fliers detailing the poses we would be asked to adopt. Chatted. Smoked cigarettes. Stripped on command.

And suddenly we’re in this army of pasty naked Paddys being whipped by the wind as we march away from our clothes and to the very end of the South Wall Pier. In front, all these bottoms; behind, breasts, chests and bellies, faces, hair and skin. The Mullarky sisters whooped and skipped. I smiled a moronic grin at the people I'd been chatting to, clothed, just moments before. We were all in something together. Some silly stupid freeeezing thing. We braced ourselves against it and laughed. Spencer asked us to form four staggered lines. We spread out and lost the defence of body heat. Then the photographer and his crew took to the sea to set up for the shot. We were left waiting, this batallian of bizarre bodies, in the cold of Dublin harbour. I ran on the spot. Mia danced like a crazy person. Naomi jiggled to the left of me. Sinead shook out her arms and legs to the right. Frances jumped up and down. Rory and Kevin just shivered. The mexican waves died down. An empty passenger ferry glided past. Everything was funny. Ripples of laughter ran up and down the pier. 'Help' Mia shouted to the Liner 'we've been here for days!'.
Our first pose was standing facing out towards sea. The second was everyone sitting, leaning back on their palms, faces upturned, like a cult of deluded sun-worshippers. The third was everyone curled in foetal position on the cold stone. I shut my eyes. The jokes and ripples of laughter continued. Distant chuckling. 'They must’ve Tommy Tiernan down there'. Explosion of giggles. My skin was numb. I was naked, one of thousands of naked people, curled into foetal position on a cold stone pier. A moment of my waking life from which I would not have been surprised to wake up.

And so, at 6am, after an hour in the nip, we huddled and brrred back down the pier to locate our clear plastic bags of belongings. Clothes have never felt so warm. There was talk of a second installation. The Mullarky sisters opted out. My head said no, Sinead said yes. We had acquired a posse of determined Tunickers by this stage, and it became a bit ‘one for all and all for one’, so I agreed. Agreed to take my clothes off all over again and run through the newly-falling freezing rain, down the beach, and knee deep into the murky Irish Sea. Cause I’ll agree to anything.
It was a much reduced group that was so easily convinced. There were certainly less than 1000 diehards, but it was the diehard group that really got the reward I think. That manic run down the stony sand, so many un-baywatchlike bodies bounding into the water. Everyone jumping, splashing, yelling. Twirling arm in arm in a surreal parody of a ceile. I body slammed my new friend Rory making everyone around laugh, and an older fella says ‘I think you’re in shock love’. Then we all turn towards Spencer’s podium and, jumping in unison, chant that great chant of Irish accomplishment, that chorus we sing when our spirits are at their highest, that ode to inexpressible excitement: OLE OLE OLE OLE! OLE OLE!!
Hush descended as Spencer shouted his instructions at us, promising to work as quickly as possible. For the first shot we faced the camera with our heads bowed; for the second we faced away from it out to sea. ‘Everybody say cheese’ said Spencer. This low growley shivered moan of cheeeeeeeese vibrated through our bodies and the sea and up into the sky and morphed into a chilly unhumorous laugh there. Speaking to Anna about it later (who, by the way, had seen enough naked men at this juncture to last her until her twenty-first birthday at least), I was told that the sight and the sound as she watched from away up the beach made her cry.
Head bowed, scrunching sand between my toes, looking at the tensed shuddering shoulders of the man in front of me. Holding out, holding out, waiting for Spencer to saaaaaaay: ‘Okay Guys, you’re done’ and it’s like the cork pops out of a bottle of champagne and we shoot back up the beach to our clothes, fizzing, celebratory. Sand paper bodies scraping into jeans and jumpers. I’m drunk on it. Adrenaline pumping through up-all-night blurred perceptions. A soft kind of body shock tingling into warm excitement. Buzzed, just buzzed.
There was a surprise in store for those of us who’d taken the final plunge. A few leaflets were circulated detailing arrangements for a second, smaller scale, and more secretive installation at Grand Canal Dock the following night. On the bus back into town Rory, Kevin, Frances and I made a pact to be there or be square. We landed bedraggled on custom house quay. Poor Sinead had to head home for a quick shower and then go straight to work, unslept and babbling about naked sea people. Mia and Anna were ready for bed, so I saw them tucked in, and then taxied it back to town to meet Kevin and Rory for early house pints followed by a Bewley’s fry-up. Poor Kevin had to meet his study group for at midday, unslept and babbling about naked sea people. Rory and I stayed drinking til we gave up. I bus-ed it back home and smoked a spliff with Debbie. Sinead got off work and came over. The adrenaline wore off, and we finally crashed around 5.
Cousin Seanie was due up in Dubland to visit me that evening, so I arose around nine after scanty sleep to set about making the flat presentable and preparing a sumptuous evening meal of cheese on toast and salad. Seanie rocked up with cousin Saoirse, her boyfriend Anoop and two bottles of wine. I do so enjoy a civilized glass of wine with my breakfast. Sinead awakened and met my cousinly crew, and there was chats and chilling out and all round pleasantness. Seanie and I drank the most of the wine and decided to skip to Kennedy’s to get our goodly groove on. We snuck in for free. Yay! I did a very thorough job of trying to convince mo cholceathair that getting naked for Spencer was where it was at, but pints and dancing did little to ease his misgivings, so post Kennedy’s he headed on back to mine for some kip and I scampered off to meet Rory, Kevin and Frances for Spencer Tunick part two.
The last few but faithful gathered at Grand Canal Square at 3am. There were about 120 0f us. This time, having learned my lesson, I had come armed with water and chocolate biccies. The rumour spread that we were going to take over a newly built 15 storey glass fronted building near-by and pose on the balconies. First we were led to a hotel lobby to be briefed. On the way, Spencer was walking beside me and asked me how I’d enjoyed the installation the day before. I gushed a little, asked him how he’d enjoyed it. He enjoyed making the art of course, he said, but didn’t enjoy the conditions and the cold. Bit rich! He had all his feckin clothes on. So we had a little chat anyways, and he said that after the group shots he’d be doing a few individual portraits and I should hang around if I was interested. I said cool, cause it was.
In the hotel lobby Spencer divided us into couples-in-love and singles. Then we filed quietly to the big glass fronted balcony studded building, and after a little waiting around were split into groups of seven and assigned a floor. Some random drunk man on his way home from alcohol land tried to join the crowd inconspicuously and sneak in, which I thought would have been a little wonderful as he obviously had no idea what was happening and would have been pretty fecking surprised when ordered to take his clothes off and stand out on a balcony. Someone tattle-taled on him though, and as I peered from the tenth floor window I saw him stumble into a cab, like that one crippled kid left behind by the pied piper.
The apartments were plush and yet to be let. We had a little snoop around as we waited for the call to disrobe. There were two apartments and two balconies on each floor. On one balcony Spencer positioned a couple who had to kiss for the duration of the set-up. Behind this couple would be one singleton, lurking there. On the opposite balcony there were seven singles. For the first shot we would face the camera, then turn away from it for the second. The word was given. Off came the clothes, and out we stood. Nipples hard like rosehips in that glass-edged wind. This mad panorama of Dublin City and her deserted drizzly 5am streets. Hands down by our sides like shop-window manikens in storage, bare, stiff, cold, modelled unsmiling. With our arses to the camera (and the wind, thank God) we began to crack jokes and giggle again, and bear it, just bear it, bear it, until we heard Spenser saaaaaay ‘Okay guys, thank you very much’ and we disappeared rapid as bunnies scampering back down the bunny hole when thumper thumps his foot.
The gents were dismissed, and the ladies asked to stay on, should they so wish, for a roof top shot. Kevin and Rory said they’d wait for me outside. I took the lift to the top storey and joined the gaggle of girls. We stripped and started climbing the stairs to the roof-terrace. I’ll never forget the sight of all those female haunches waddling and wiggling up the steps. When we reached the roof there was this beautiful rainbow. I don’t know if Spencer managed to capture it or not, but I hope he did. For the roof-top shots all of us bare naked ladies sat down, then lay back on the person behind us, forming this imbricated pattern of curves. Then we did something similar except on our sides, with our heads on each others hips. The bodily intimacy didn’t feel weird at all. And, as someone quipped, at least it was warm! I think those roof top shots are going to be beautiful.
Pictures taken, Spencer asked those he’d approached to do individual shots to stay on, and the rest of the girl gang dispersed. I hung around and met the guy and two girls who’d been asked to do some solo stuff. We were all pretty chuffed to be asked, but so zombified from two days of Tunicking that the excitement manifested itself mostly in dazed half-smiles. We got the lift down, to where Rory and Kevin were still waiting outside. I told them I was hanging on for an individual shoot, so Kevin and I hugged our goodbyes, while Rory approached Spencer and asked him if he’d mind if he tagged along too. Spencer said ‘sure, you can hang around’, so we all piled into a van with the Tunick crew and went back to their hotel, where we had a cuppa and discussed how things were going to happen.
The plan was to find a quirky, mostly isolated location around the city, strip quick, get the picture snappy, and throw the auld clothes back on. All a bit guerrilla. Before we set out we went to the hotel toilets and removed our underwear and socks to speed up the process. Then it was out again into the biting Dublin wind to find suitable spots for beautiful shots. Rory was up first. Spencer asked us all to pull some weeds, and Rory was snapped stepping down from a graffiti edged pavement carrying a big bundle of them. It was really funny somehow. Next in line were this gorgeous looking young couple, who Spencer got to pose under a pro-Lisbon poster of Gay Mitchell MEP – one of them walking away from it, and one of them walking towards it. Pertinent political statements, innit? That shot was a bit nerve racking – two cars drove past and the drivers stared, and a drunk young man in a business suit stumbled by, though I don’t think he was in any state to compute what was going on. Spencer does a good job of keeping things relaxed.
Next up was this lovely blonde girl from Cork. We found this row of old Dublin style artisan cottages, and Spencer had her pose outside one with a blue door, just as if she were coming out of her home. It was an ethereal, fragile kind of shot. She was really angelic looking. All the same, I don’t think the little old lady I can imagine living there would have been too impressed if she came out to find a naked blonde girl on her doorstep, no matter how innocent she looked.
I was last, and we wandered around for a bit before Spencer found a location that he liked. Eventually he decided on a spot under a bridge on Pearse Street, in front of locked convent gates. Sacreligilicious. Whipped off my dress, stood where directed, tried to relax, and with a click clickedy click it was all over. Dress back on, boots back on. And that was it: the end of my Spencer Tunick experience. We took our leave of each other. Hugs all round. I trekked back to the Northside over the bouncy bridge, feckin exhausted. I wound through the IFSC and up Amien Street towards home. Everything looked different. Dublin in the dawn light will never be the same again.
Current Mood: happyhappy
Current Music: Bare Naked Ladies
MVTmoon_very_thin on June 25th, 2008 07:43 pm (UTC)

When I think of why LJ is deadly, entries like this are my because. :) You are clearly a header, but a very interesting one who writes beautifully, and has amazing experiences. You got me from "Christ, I'd never do that" to "I wish I'd been involved in that" in under 2 dozen paragraphs. ;)

bitchinboxers on June 25th, 2008 10:53 pm (UTC)
she nearly made me do it. and i never take my clothes of for less than a bottle of JD
MVTmoon_very_thin on June 25th, 2008 10:55 pm (UTC)
A naggin or a shoulder? :)
oursonpolaireoursonpolaire on June 26th, 2008 12:20 am (UTC)
Lemur's writing shines,
compels us all to follow.
goosebumps in late June.
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on June 26th, 2008 08:42 am (UTC)
He'll be back y'know...
(Anonymous) on June 26th, 2008 08:23 pm (UTC)
fair dues
first time I've ever read anything by the so called Emer the ickle lemur but can you write or what! I was there for day one and agree the sea shot was best - it felt just too mad to be true but I suppose that's waht mad feels like. Thansk for this review of your experience! : )

By the way I can't help asking - is there another paragraph where Spender says "Hey Eimear, I'm doung one final shot...if you're interested...wink wink"

: )
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on June 27th, 2008 08:56 am (UTC)
Re: fair dues

Thanks for reading, and see you when Spencer return...
(Anonymous) on June 27th, 2008 09:18 pm (UTC)
Re: fair dues
great article --as a matter of interest where the guys you went back on sunday with good friends or did u just meet out there in Sat?
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on June 29th, 2008 11:23 pm (UTC)
Re: fair dues
Just met them on Saturday. They're such class guys. Yay for new friends!
l: pic#71831257phenomenal_cat on June 28th, 2008 09:31 pm (UTC)
wow, you're so brave! i'd never have the guts to do that - sounds like a brilliant and liberating experience though!
(Anonymous) on July 15th, 2008 11:18 pm (UTC)
Emer, Emer, Emer.
Blarney was where I joined ST's back catalogue. It is exactly a month ago tonight that I was heading through Cork linking up with my car pool group. Every time I found a blog by someone who was at Blarney or Dublin, it brought back some of the memory.
But your piece is a class apart. It is not just your writing which is sharp and engaging. It is that you have captured so many little details through your observations. Your outrageous enjoyment of the experience bubbles through your writing. It is this effervescence that has brought back full-on the feelings I had in Blarney. It is one thing for a writer to help a reader to remember an experience with fond nostalgia. Your piece reaches another dimesion when it manages to revive the intense feelings that go with that memory.
You have a rare gift, and a new fan. Thank you.
Dave in Cork.
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on July 16th, 2008 09:41 am (UTC)
Re: Wow.
Wow. Thanks.
(Anonymous) on February 17th, 2009 12:03 pm (UTC)
cograts on article
Hi thanks for your article i was at the dublin installation it was a brilliant experience and i got to combine my love of photography with being naked at a spencer installation, a comment i overheard one girl say to two of her friends just after we'd disrobed said "I have no clothes on but i don't feel naked" this for me summed up the experience nicely. would i pose again? in a heartbeat but hopefully somewhere warmer i'd love to go as a group to spencers next installation with a group of other mad irish people if we could form some sort of group
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on February 18th, 2009 12:17 am (UTC)
Re: cograts on article
Well, keep me posted! I'll tag along for sure.
(Anonymous) on May 10th, 2009 02:19 am (UTC)
Hi Emer, I'm 52 this year, born and raised on a farm where naked was shameful, however some years ago while in the South of France with my wife & children I insisted we liberate ourselves & go to a nudest beach. Well we arrived on the beach dressed in our swim gear & we found a place to sit I removed my swim trunks as did my wife with a little prompt, but the children were too embarrassed to do so. None of the other people seemed to be paying any attention to us & I quickly realised that even though I was naked I did not feel undressed & we stood up & ran to the waters edge. The wind was blowing in from the sea and it was cool while the sand was stinging it was so hot from the Sun. I went into the sea until the water reached my groin & it felt awesome, our seven year old daughter decided to remove her bikini then and within a few minutes she was busy making sand castles. Your account of the Dublin installation expresses the sensation of freedom we felt that day. I intended to participate in the Blarney installation the moment I saw the advertisement, but, life got in the way. Every time I see any of the photographs I can feel what the subjects feel, without the cold shivers :-), well done Emer, you produced a heart warming classic.
lalyuff on May 3rd, 2010 04:33 am (UTC)
the demarcation broken by mankind

HOW MANY GENERATIONS DID WE DESTROY[Surah 50name kahf ] www.perishednations.com
Rome -http://creatorstruth.ning.com/video/italy-travel-pompeii-residents
http://creators truth.ning.com/video/pompeii-ash-volcano-excavation

http://www.kaheel7.com/eng/index.php/astronomu-a-space www.kaheel7.com/eng http://kaheel7.com/eng/index.ph p/health-a-medicine/248-amazing-powerpoint-creation-of-human
www.quranmiracles.com www.miraclesofthequran.com www.koranworld.com

“This is a communication to be transmitted to mankind so that they can be warned by it and so that they will know that He is One God and so that people of intelligence will pay heed.” (Quran 14:52)
In many other verses, God emphasizes that one of the most crucial purposes of the Quran’s revelation is to invite people to ponder. In the Quran, God invites people to reject blindly accepting the beliefs and values society imposes on them and to ponder by pushing aside all the prejudices, taboos and constraints on their mind.
Man must think on how he came into being, what the
purpose of his life is, why he will die and what awaits him after death.

Visit HURL THE TRUTH AT FALSEHOOD at: http://creatorstruth.ning.com/ ?xg_source=msg_mes_network
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on May 6th, 2010 10:47 am (UTC)
Re: the demarcation broken by mankind
Dear Lalyuff,
I was going to delete this comment, but I've decided to leave it, because I like this part if it:

'In the Quran, God invites people to reject blindly accepting the beliefs and values society imposes on them and to ponder by pushing aside all the prejudices, taboos and constraints on their mind. Man must think on how he came into being, what the purpose of his life is, why he will die and what awaits him after death.'

Yes! We should reject blindly accepting the beliefs society imposes upon us. Yes! We should push aside all the prejudices, taboos and constraints on our minds! Yes, we should think about the purpose of life and the meaning of death! Yes yes yes.

I was brought up in a Catholic society. I was taught that nudity was sinful. I reject that belief. I push that prejudice to the side. When I reflect on the purpose of life and the meaning of death I am drawn again and again to the miracle that is the human body - this transient yet present, frail yet powerful, beautiful and mortal thing.

Here's what I believe: nobody living knows what happens when you die. We don't know. We can't know. That's the very essence of the human condition. But I feel with a spiritual passion that life is to be celebrated. Our bodies are to be celebrated. We shouldn't feel ashamed of them.

You say that you are hurling truth at falsehood. You are not. You are hurling your truth at my truth. My truth enables me to respect and tolerate yours. Your truth disables you from respecting and tolerating mine.
(Anonymous) on May 6th, 2010 04:11 pm (UTC)
You are hurling your truth at my truth=BUT I AM YOUR WELWISHER-
If He so pleased He could blot you out and bring in a New Creation:17> Nor is that (at all) difficult for Allah."How many generations We have destroyed before them! Do you see a trace of any one of them or hear even a whisper of them?(Qur'an 19:98)
14.those who said, "We are Christian,"we took their covenant.But they disregarded some of the commandments given to them.Consequently, we condemned them to animosity and hatred among themselves,until the Day of Resurrection.GOD will then inform them of everything they had done.
major crimes that need major punishments.
The major transgressions, according to Islam, are murder, highway robbery, theft, adultery, and false accusation of adultery. These transgressions affect the individual and the society and create a state of confusion and insecurity.
The principles that govern penal laws in Islam are:
1. The punishment should be effective enough to deter the crime.
2. Punishment is necessary, though disliked.
3. Punishment is a means to social security.
(Anonymous) on May 6th, 2010 05:11 pm (UTC)
When I reflect on the purpose of life and the meaning of death I am drawn again and again to the mir
Crack on moon confirms Prophet Muhammad (S) had split it
NEW YORK, United States: Recent scientific research has confirmed the miracle of Prophet Muhammad Al-Mostafa (peace be upon him and his holy progeny) regarding “moon splitting”.
It has been proved through a picture captured by NASA which was published throughout the world.
The photo from NASA using Apollo 10 and Apollo 11 shows a clear indication (a line) that the Moon was split in past.
The report, spread on scientific foundations in different global parts, said that the picture which illustrates splitting of moon confirms that the moon was split into two halves during its geological age. The report said the scientists were unable to give any scientific explanation for happening of ‘moon splitting’ as any such splitting was never happened to any heavenly body prior to what happened to the moon. The geologists assert that it is impossible that such a line appears save the moon was split into two halves and then it was rejoined.

This miracle of the Prophet (peace be upon him and his holy progeny) is mentioned in the beginning of Sura Al-Qamar (the moon) about the split of the moon [54:1] ‘The Hour has drawn near, and the moon has been cleft asunder (the people of Makkah requested Prophet Muhammad to show them a miracle, so he showed them the splitting of the moon)’.

The crew of Apollo 11: Commander Neil A. Armstrong, Command Module
pilot Michael Collins, Lunar Module pilot Edwin E. Aldrin, Jr.
May 1, 1969. (NASA photo ID S69-31739)

The miracle existed at that time for the people of Quraiesh when they challenged the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him and his holy progeny) to show them a miracle, or a proof that he is the Messenger of Allah.

The challenge was to split the moon in to two pieces when it is full.

As was related by Adbullah ibn Mas‘ud, while they were in Mina one night, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him and his holy progeny) split the moon into two by a gesture of his index finger. The two parts had separated and receded so much apart from each other that to the on-lookers one part had appeared on one side of the mountain and the other on the other side of it. Then in an instant the two had rejoined. Then, the Prophet (peace be upon him and his holy progeny) turned to us and said: ‘Be witnesses!’

The amazing and wonderful phenomenon of the splitting of the Moon when it was full was a manifest sign of the truth that the Resurrection, of which the Holy Prophet was giving them the news, could take place and that it had approached near at hand.

This was a manifest proof of the truth that the system of the Universe was neither eternal nor immortal it could be disrupted. David Mosa Pidcook (leader on British Muslim Party) said: It was shown in BBC a program where there was a debate between three experts.

The discussion was about if the amount of money paid by NASA to send a human to land on the surface of the moon to study the inner structure of the moon was worth it or not?? The American government authorized a budget of $100, 000, 000, 000 (one hundred thousand million dollar) for this project. One of the discoveries of that project was that there is a layer of material that splits the moon into two halves and the only explanation to this discovery that the moon was split at some times in its history and rejoined!!!
emer_the_lemuremer_the_lemur on May 7th, 2010 11:43 pm (UTC)
I'm very glad that you think of yourself as my well-wisher. Thank you for your interesting information about the prophet and the moon. I do not agree that the creator intended for us to be ashamed of our nakedness. I believe that the naked body is to be celebrated. You and I are unlikely to agree on this point. And that's okay - there's your truth and there's my truth. I think this is as far as we can usefully take this discussion. If you leave any more comments on this post to the effect that nakedness is in some way sinful, they will be deleted. Thank you again for your fascinating contribution to this discussion. I also wish you well.