Still in the Underworld, I am in a pain worse than the illness I was struck with two weeks ago. My 21-year-old college kid is in the emergency room on the other side of the world and there is nothing I can do but wait for a phone message that he’s okay. It’s been five hours since the last message.
I am like a corpse on a meat hook, waiting for salvation. No crown, no lapis lazuli necklace, no beads, no breastplate, no bracelets, no measuring rod, no robe.
Powerless. Vulnerable. Nude.
This is my birthday gift: a reminder of what is important. Love.
I didn’t think I’d get to take a birthday nude this year. My husband has been very ill. All of my time is spent taking care of him, our household, and the business we own together. Besides, I had already done 25 birthday nudes. It’s a good number to hang it up on.
But the world is teeming with life. Spirit guardians and the cosmos seem to conspire toward giving me sensual gifts. Rays of sun through stained glass windows. A warm autumn day with a moment to spare. A rare lazy morning without pain.
The 26th birthday nude then: an homage to my iconic portrait set in my home, a tip of the hat to a title once given to me a long time ago. XXX Pornsaint.
Birthday gifts: new friends surrounding me. I don’t feel so isolated in our tower of glass. I find myself surrounded by people who need healing of the body and the spirit. I feel called to step into this role but sometimes feel woefully inadequate, humble, and grateful. I am open and willing to grapple with what I do not know. I am happy that I am still discovering new things about myself. Thank you! 🙏✨
Welcome to my new home in an old church, illuminated with sunlight filtered through vibrant stained glass windows casting an ethereal glow that breathes life into the stillness of this sacred space. These stained glass windows have been standing here for 131 years, still intact though cracked and sagging in some places, still radiating beauty, a reminder to embrace my flaws and celebrate the light that reflects through me.
I stand here naked, not just of the body but of the spirit. I was born not just to exist but to proclaim my truth. 25 years of birthday nudes has led to this most provocative image: the divine and the profane. Isn’t it the human experience to reach for divinity from our carnal form? Do we not spend our lives locked in a struggle between light and dark, courage and vulnerability, life and death?
At my age, each birthday brings a whisper of death. And as more of my loved ones cross over, that whisper gets louder. I hear their voices inside me now. I take on what was vital in them and keep it alive in me. Like stained glass windows, I am a mosaic of moments, pieces of my beloveds shining through me in every story I tell about them.
I am filled with a renewed sense of purpose: to shine! For the sake of those who are not anymore with us, and for the sake of those of us who remain and need a beacon to remind ourselves that it is okay to be brave and vulnerable and flawed and old and weird and scared. I love you.
Outside the rain beat a percussive song upon the roof, windows, and gutters of our farmhouse. It filled my head with melodies and I hummed along. I am in love with life and nature. How can I fall deeper in love with life?
I ran out naked and bathed in the rain. Ligo sa ulan.
This is my birthday nude this year. Completely nude. No make-up, no filter, no hair dye. Just flowers and leaves surrounding my head, grass and mud squished underneath my feet, and rain rain rain on my skin and hair.
I had a rainy birthday, so Jay suggested that we recreate our very first photo shoot, Rainy Day Girl. He let me borrow his 100+ year old coat tails, handed me a frog umbrella, and followed me around our backyard with a camera. Tracing our steps back to the first time we played with a camera together was as refreshing as the misty autumn air. It reminded us both of that electric excitement we felt when we first started dating and collaborating.
It’s been over 25 years since Rainy Day Girl. We’ve accumulated deeply scarring emotional baggage as well as amazing memories of profound connection. I am grateful for all of it. I open myself up for more. At some point during our rainy day frolic in the backyard I got down on a bed of wet autumn leaves on the ground. Sometimes the only way to create beauty is to get dirty.
