Obviously I – with an extensive history of complexes with my body – was honored by that invitation.
I agreed without thinking too much, set the date and suggested the use of an orange scarf, which was part of the costumes of a show in which I participated at the time.
I had just gotten out of a long relationship, I was still very hurt and not very sure about anything. But art has always been a powerful fuel in my life and knowing that I was contributing to someone else's artistic creation filled my heart with goodwill.
I was treated with absolute respect and was flattered to have an artist taking the time to observe my forms and portray them beautifully.
Nudity itself is a situation. Giving yourself permission to undress is another more difficult task.
You know that dream where you suddenly realize you're naked? It is traumatic, because it skips the process of undressing. Wanting to get rid of hurts, pain and habits that don't lead to anything positive is fundamental.
Stop in front of the mirror and remove piece by piece from a past that weighs on shoulders, memories, knees and soul. But this process goes beyond just an embarrassment in some nightmare: it requires courage and a good dose of generosity with yourself.
It takes a lot of courage to look yourself in the eye, naked, loving for who you are, admitting all the mistakes, all the shame, the guilt, the disappointments, everything that went wrong and everything that went right, but was wrong.
Nudity is sublime, as is love. But it is in the act of undressing that we paralyze. We are attached to clothes that no longer fit, but are cluttered in our closet, just like fear, uselessly occupying a space.
Faced with the social shame of seeing myself and showing myself naked, it is still preferable to be who you are, since I cannot escape myself.
