The Art of The Human

Nothing in a hushed moment is ever truly silent. Even when the outside world has seemingly come to a calm halt, the internal brain and heart of a person never shuts off in a living world. I recall a time when the naked body was a forbidden concept. In childhood we are taught not to question nudity, nor to attempt to understand it. Nobody ever truly tells you why, because no one wants to face a child and try to explain what sex is. We are all so consumed by the omen of this one simple word and the taboo which seems to follow it. Sex is the creation of life at the very core, but we stigmatize it to be something never spoken freely of.

​I have always loved being naked. It puts me in an element with myself, and my own human nature. The most contact a person can get with anyone and anything, after all is through skin and the use of touch. How should we ever expect to truly feel anything when we cover up the greatest gifts we’ve ever been given. It doesn’t go to say that we should all run around naked, for in some way it does preserve the mystery of what treasures lie beyond the clothing, but I do believe the shame associated with women and men alike being bare in any sort of way is absolutely absurd.

​I had a revelation about half a year ago, that we often conceal in order to avoid judgement. Given, this philosophy goes for most anything. We conceal our quirks, both medical, mental, and physical flaws, out of the fear that we will be rejected for them. We hide away our bodies because no one will admit that we don’t even know what a “perfect” body should look like. We often pretend upon first meeting people that we like and dislike certain things just because we want to relate to them and be similar to these strangers we suddenly deemed as cherishable to us. Humans have a funny way of expressing who they are, constantly hiding it in an effort to reach perfection, molding themselves into someone they don’t even know nor understand in an effort to be the mysterious perfection they desire to know so very badly.

​The body is no different. Women don’t sleep around and announce it because they are protecting themselves from a stigma to surely be placed upon them if they do. Men often like to act as if they get too many women, just to show they are desirable and wanted by countless people. We’ve all done it no doubt. Acted like being hit on was so unbearable, or like that catcall didn’t spark some hope deep down that someone finds you crazy attractive. All we want in this world is to be wanted. That is the art of the human mind.

​So here I was, driving up some back road in the middle of wheat fields and melting snow. I’d been out of my dorm the night before, naked in someone else’s bed. I wasn’t ashamed of myself by any means. In fact, I began to vent to myself about the unfairness of the boy-girl standard for sleeping around when I realized the issue was that no one takes pride in nudity anymore. Way back when, sculptures of everything hanging free, out in the open, were considered beautiful works of art. They still are today, but only in the museum where people have the choice, not the obligation, to go view if they so choose. I began to paint myself a picture about humanity.

​We are all walking vessels of art, and those with an interest in coming to see us, will give the implication that we should undress at some point. With obvious exceptions to the rule, there is no greater honor than being asked to get naked with someone. It is human need and necessity to have skin on skin contact, and even if someone doesn’t love you, just the fact that they want to be naked with you is like choosing to go to the museum. They want to revel in the art form that is your very own body. One that you were gifted at birth, and have maintained up until that moment. I only wish women and men would sell more tickets to the show.

​I do understand that many will disagree with me on this topic, and I am not implying that rape is ever okay because someone “admired” someone else. I am, however, implying, that if a woman wishes to go out and pick a cute boy from the party crowd, she is not shallow. And if a man compliments a girl in a tight skirt, he is doing just that, admiring her art form. When two people make the mutual decision to get together and make love, whereas there is adoration from both sides, we should not interpret this as shameful, meaningless, sex. We are all representative of handy craftsmanship which took place at some point in time, and in some way. Be it the Big Bang, evolution, or by the hand of God, we are all art which needs to be cherished. We are the art of the human body.