Letters To DOMAI
I've been going through a horrible time lately. My wife betrayed me with several other men, divorced me, and then blamed me for everything. My mind was wallowing in a pit of utter despair.
It was during my summer vacations that I've met Margaret while I was an art student in the early 1990s. She was an average looking, middle-age woman but with incredible spirit and aura that could cover the universe. No matter how liberal I was there was no way to conceive the beauty of the human body if it wasn't for this experience in my life.
My university dorms where closing mid June, I didn't want to spent another summer at my home town working in a department store. I needed a job real bad and I was hoping for something adventurous as well as artistic in subject, so I replied to an advert that I found posted on a board next to one of the art classes. An artist assistant position was just what I was looking for. A deep slow woman's voice at the other end of the line asking all short of things about me. The next day I was at her house for an informal interview.
There was big painted round stones in random arrangements among the grass and some funny looking wooden figures on the neath the front windows which clearly manifested the existence of an artist in the house. A slim lady with red curly hair, strange mixture of hippy elegance open the door with some delay wearing a Chinese purple robe. She was in her late 40' or early 50's having some mobility problems after a light stroke few years prior but that didnt stop her career it even boosted by giving a new dimension to her artwork.
The house was big with murals painted with vivid colours all over the walls, it had big garage converted in to a studio space and buck yard with a small swimming pool. There where art objects and paintings everywhere many of them having human forms in strange positions and faces with mirthful expressions. I was intrigued from the surroundings as well as the idea that I was gona live next to a real artist for the summer. There was was just a quick introduction as to what she was doing at her art projects, what was her work, eating, sleeping, reading, resting and partying patterns of the house and if I didn't have any objections with all this, Marge asked me if I could start as soon as possible.
It may not sound very exiting, a middle age not particularly beautiful nude woman but it was a moment of honesty that comes in ones life very few times. Up to that moment I was considering nudity only in very personal moments or in doctor examinations but I was about to come to a realisation that clothes are not really part of a person, it is something extra. As I was making my coffee the artist lady was preparing brunch she turned to me and said: I forgot to mention the other day that the house is clothing optional I hope youre cool with that. Yea yea no problem I said nodding my head, barely looking at her.
Sometimes we had visitors in the house and small parties most of Marge's friends where nudists as well and I was feeling really uncomfortable around them. If I was looking at there bodies I was self-conscious and if I wasn't I was feeling like a weirdo, I didnt know how to behave. All this for the first two weeks, then I decided to quit the job and I tolled Marge the reason. We sat by the pool and had a few drinks Ho bay o boy she said ok if you wanna go you are free to do so any time you want but before you go can you do me a favour?
Well I couldnt refused a small favour to her she has been so nice to me after all. Can you stay one more day yea I can do that I said. yea but in your birthday suit I couldnt get it how could she ask me a thing like that since she knows that this was my problem in the first place actually boy, you are doing your shelf a favour, loosen up a little bit, learn to live your life so 7:30 am the next day I left my room and I got on with the usual things just like any other day but in the nude.
It wasn't so horrible after all and by midday I was able to be sarcastic and make jokes about the hole situation. Marggie was teasing me all along and I had unexpectedly good time it was definitely the best day of the summer. By the the end of the day I came to realise many things that had never occurred to me prior, first of all how beautiful Marggie was, a thing that is so strange because exposing an older body should have had the opposite effect but no this was a beauty that comes from within and reflects on one's body and creates the best spectacle life has to offer. I remember very clearly the composition, the nude body next to a wooden piece of furniture or lying on the grass, against a wall or in the water. I can't think of any image more pleasing than that.
In other cultures or places that people expose them shelves and is only natural to do so it doesnt seem to effect their morals or give them any feelings of guilt. This I think is the right attitude because if you believe in god you should consider that if god has given you this body this is exactly what he expects you look like and if he wanted you to look any other way he would have created you like that.
I was a catholic and a nudist after that summer and I dont see that this as an ironic contradiction but much rather as a deeper understanding of the human existence as a combined body-spirit composition. I have met many nudists since then, not that I will go looking for them but if I have a choice I will go for the nudist beach, due to this experience I think I am able to tell the difference, so I find nudists to be no different than any other people.
This issue's free gallery
This newsletter shows samples of the sets for members from the period of February 15 to April 1.