A Naked Army

At 4.00 a.m. on Sunday in the heart of downtown Newcastle, England, I stripped off my clothes with nearly 2000 others to be a part of Spencer Tunick's latest art installment. He likens cities and landscapes to a canvas, and the fleshy tones of en masse nudity is his paint. The most striking element about the whole ordeal was the ordinaryness of the people. Of course it is quite surreal to be surrounded by some 2000 other naked people... Right after 'getting our kit off' we stampeded down this hill toward the location of the shoot. I paused for a moment, turned around and saw something like a naked medieval army charging down after me. Quite surreal indeed.

The temperature was something like 12 degrees celsius/52 fahrenheit, and after almost four naked hours in the chilly English morning, my nipples were happy to not be erect anymore.



As always, my photo site documents my goings-on.

Though I suspect this edition may be more eye-catching...

[Update]
This site has some great press shots of the events. Better to enjoy the enormity with, my dear...

I Will Wear Lilies

I have decided that I shall never be without lilies, and in turn, they shall never be without my appreciation.

A very special and wonderful person once wrote a poem about me... and lilies. I love it. It was a caustic, chilling and bitter poem, written after some heated interaction (surely of my own fault). Because it was so beautifully ugly about yours truly, he won't give me a copy of the original--he's a good man and doesn't want my memories to consist of something so negative. So I'll just have to recall what I can.

It was called, "You Will Never Wear Lilies," and the last lines went something like this:

You may someday wear roses,
But you would have looked so nice in lilies.

SuperCiphed

I'm trying too hard.

Perhaps I can expound on this later (though still in a cryptic form, barely intelligible to me), but for now maybe just saying it will help.