Nudity is Only Skin-Deep

I can will my mind to make things work in opposition to their nature.

Sometimes I lie in bed with my eyes closed, and it seems my bed is facing the opposite way, or that the room itself has flipped around. Or maybe it's me that's flipped around within my body, and my feet are where my head should be and my head is where my feet should be. I concentrate on this sensation, and I can spin myself around, whirling quickly or slowly until I open my eyes and I am once again lying down exactly as I went to bed, with my head on my pillow and the window on the correct side.

Several years ago, I had a regular modelling gig for an art class. The studio for this class was cold. Not chilly, or tits-a-bit-nipply-breast-get-a-sweater but cold. Something must have been wrong with the heating in the room. We could all see our breath. The artists wore their winter jackets, and some wore fingerless gloves. As for me, I wore not a stitch. I didn't even have a spot heater. So while the artists stood around, rubbing their hands together every now and then to warm them up, I held perfectly still and perspired.

How was this possible? Through concentration. I imagined that the prick of cold against my skin wasn't cold, but the feel of sun on a hot day. I wasn't freezing. I was on the cusp of a sunburn. While I kept this focus up, I didn't feel the cold at all.

Of course, once the poses were over and I had to come back to the real world, the sensation of heat went away, and I bundled myself in blankets and drank hot chocolate to keep warm.

I knew I could do this temperature change thing ever since I was about fourteen years old. Not interested in any of the suggested biology projects given by the teacher, my lab partner and I came up with our own. I'd read somewhere that Tibetan monks could keep themselves toasty warm in the Himalayas in situations where other people would freeze to death. They did this through meditation. So our project was this: could I increase the temperature of my hand measurably just by willing it so?

I would choose whether I wanted to increase my temperature or maintain it, then write this down. My partner did not know if I was trying to increase or maintain my temperature. I held a thermometer in my hand, and my partner recorded the starting temperature. Some time later (ten minutes, I think), the temperature would be recorded again, and my partner would mark down if she thought I'd tried to increase it or keep it the same.

I no longer have any of the records, but I do remember that I was able to consistently increase the temperature in my hand by a few degrees by willing it so.

I considered this to be a useful transferrable skill, and tried to find other ways to apply it. The first way was by stopping my nose bleeds. In my teens, I often had sudden, violent nose bleeds which would gush for a rather long time, and without warning. I always used to squeeze my nose and tip my head back to stop the bleeding. But I wondered what would happen if I willed the nose bleeds to stop. It sure would be nice to have shirts without blood stains.

After a bit of practice (which the frequent nose bleeds accorded me with), I was able to stop the nose bleeds almost immediately after they started.

Once I got out of my teens, the nose bleeds went away, and I no longer had any obvious reason to use my mind over matter skills. I forgot all about the meditation.

But then I got migraines. These weren't normal migraines, with pain. They were made of flashing lights, confusion, hallucination, and partial blindness. For a few years, I relied on varying degrees of medication to get them under control. The side effects, however, grew worse than the problem itself, and after a bit of arguing with my doctor, I finally got myself weaned off the pills. I thought of my almost-forgotten trick of mind over matter....

It was difficult to concentrate on the blindness and confusion disappearing, when the strobe lights and confusion attempted to thwart concentration on anything at all. But I kept working on it, and eventually, the blind spots would shrink. Each morning, before I got up or opened my eyes, I'd concentrate on making the blindness and confusion shrink and shrink. I couldn't do it all at once. I had to choose a "corner," and start from there. When I was on break at work, I'd sit in a quiet area and concentrate more. And I'd do it again at night.

It didn't work perfectly. It didn't work consistently. But it did work better than the medications had, and it didn't have any side effects.

Now, I don't believe that this technique will work on everything. Not at all. It doesn't seem to help me very much with menstrual cramps, for example. However, I believe we have more control over our own physiology than we might suspect. It's not automatic, though, or at least not for me. It requires a huge amount of undisrupted concentration.

As for now, I use it while doing physical training. I find it makes a big difference to not listen to music and to not watch the tv, but to listen and feel for what my muscles are doing, and to concentrate my attention there. How about you? Do you do something similar?

EDIT: If you've never attempted this, here's the simplest experiment I can think of using the same principles. Imagine your nose is itchy. Keep imagining how itchy it is. Eventually, your nose will be itchy. I used to use this in figure modelling, too. No, not to make parts itchy, and not even to make parts stop being itchy. I've never been able to completely remove and itch through concentration alone. But I can move it. Let's say I'm holding a pose with one hand on my butt, and the other away from my body. I get itchy on my belly. It's driving me bonkers, but I don't want to break the pose, so I will the itch to keep sliding along my belly, wrap around my waist, and then creep down my butt to where my hand already is and can scratch without breaking the pose.

I'm in a tizzy getting ready for the LARPing this weekend, and with dealing with all sorts of non-LARP-related nonsense. Gah. Too much stress, all around.

But then I got a copy of this photo, and it made me feel better.

Yeah. It's me with a great rack, courtesy of Tanya Marie Smith. Enjoy.

I think I'll wear this gown to the Mugshots Noir event tomorrow night.



Start Time: 30 January 2009 at 21:00
Location: Rum Runner (Walper Terrace)
1 King Street West, Kitchener

Dan Forsey’s digital art exhibition of KW’s finest mugs

Also featuring art noir from:
Kate Georgina Cox
Tanya Marie Smith
&
Sarah Kernohan

Mug Models: Cristina Stanciu, Devra Golden, Douglas Morton, Gareth Lichty, Harley DeJong, Heather Gartshore, Jaci Ryan, Kate Fraser, JK Bedford, Lorna Heidt, Rosa Loess, Cathy King, Shawnathan DeSouza-Coelho, Anvil Bastarde, Grace Aroella, Tom Emptage, Zoki Blazic, Tim Mollison, Miranda Warner, Shantell Powell and Rachael Saunders

poster model: Jaci Ryan

I'll be the mugshot with the black eyes and the bird hat.

I look like I've been jabbed all over with sticks. I have many bruises, and can only account for about half of them (last night's breakdancing experiment). Where the other ones came from is a complete mystery to me. But despite my brutish appearance, I'm off to do a photoshoot with angramainyu tonight.

As for the breakdance class, well, let's just say I harbour numerous doubts about my future abilities to throw down and battle. I don't think I have any potential as a breakdancer. Where some movement styles click with me right away, some do not. You can guess which category break dance is in for me. That being said, I do believe I can eventually get the basics for up rock figured out.... Except that I doubt I'll be attending any more breakdance classes. They happen during my regularly scheduled wing chun training slots. Last night's tap class, however, continued happily. Although I got lost during a few of the time signatures, I'm progressing so quickly as to utterly freak out my instructor and the advanced student in the class. So maybe I have a future in tap! I know I'm having a helluva lot of fun with it.

After dancing, I went to Ren with schwartzung, ostensibly for a business meeting, but our contact didn't show. So we hung around for a while and took in the drag show. I feel like an alien at these events. Seeing straight men dressed up like tarty women getting hit on by other straight men confuses my brains. And watching a strip-tease with a drag queen going down to nothing but strategically placed duct tape was certainly amusing. The front looked ok, but the back really looked like an arse taped shut. And I really have to wonder about just how it would feel to yank duct tape off such sensitive skin. Yikes.

Tomorrow, I'm off to London to check out the clubs there. This is just as much for work as it is for pleasure. I've been drafted into DSoL as a promotions assistant, and some of our events will be taking place there, and we want to see the clubs firsthand. Also, I may very well be dancing there this spring.

Today, I received an email from a dancer asking me to photograph her at a show. Unfortunately, I won't be able to go to her show, but it's very flattering to be asked for specifically as a photographer. I'm used to being asked for as a model, but this is my first time being requested as a photographer. I really do enjoy taking pictures, and I'm finding it an excellent creative challenge to photograph live shows, whether they're of dancers or musicians. I'll keep it up, and maybe someday I'll even get the camera that will let me take the kind of shots I want to take.

Links? Why yes!

Blind Irishman sees with the aid of son's tooth in his eye: This is probably the strangest medical headline I've ever seen.

Somebody Needs Some Pantene: Oh Christ....

Form and Function: A series of amazing photos of some amazing women: professional athletes in a wide array of shapes and sizes.

New theory (and old equations) may explain causes of ship-sinking freak waves: "On a stormy April day in 1995, the RMS Queen Elizabeth 2 was sailing in the North Atlantic when the ocean liner dipped into a 'hole in the sea.' Out of the darkness, a towering 95-foot wave threatened to crash down upon the vessel, which the 70,000-ton ship attempted to surf in order to avoid being pummeled to the bottom of the ocean." This is the sort of thing that makes me question the wisdom of those planned floating cities.

And last, but not least, comes this: Pseudopod 79: Ice: creepy mariner fiction by elanya. Download it now, because I think it's only available for today.

Last night I did a photo shoot with angramainyu for the first time in over a year. He has a gorgeous new studio, and we did a few hours of bodyscapes (like landscapes, only with, well, bodies) and some floor shots. I can't say enough good things about him. He's a real pleasure to work with, and the shots he pulls are simply beautiful. If you haven't already, go check out his website. He also gave me a copy of his newest book, Lacunal 2. I feature very heavily in this book, and am the cover model. The book isn't cheap, but is well worth the money. The book itself is of the highest quality, and so, of course, are the photos within.

Tonight I'm going to the Ren after I teach my seniors' dance class. It's another industrial/goth night. Wanna come with? I'm planning on bringing out my camera again, because I was pleased with the last set of photos I took there. Maybe, if I can get someone to sit still long enough, I'll see if I can work with human subjects.

I'm slowly but surely reorganizing my dance studio so I can fit in my new dance pole. Soon I shall be spinning up a storm and doing pull-ups in my own home. It'll be good to be able to practice at will.

Ariellah is in Toronto this weekend. Much to my dismay, I won't be attending her workshop or performing in her show. I be too po', damnit! The search for decent part-time work continues.

I'm feeling considerably better than I did last week, but my sickness has taken a disgusting turn. I now have what sounds like the chunkiest, hunkiest smoker's cough. It's revolting. I can't wait until I stop producing my own chewing gum.

Link time? Ok.

Kite to pull ship across Atlantic: It's like a sail boat, but different.

Love Bugs: NSFW. You probably don't want to click this.

License to Grill: How to get around pesky patio rules.

Drank beers, tried to stab worker: This happened a stone's throw from my home. I can't help but wonder two things: 1. Why is the guy not in jail? 2. Who brings a knife to a chainsaw fight?

I've received more photos from Wednesday night's shoot, this time from Kim Taylor (NSFW).

( Here they are (NSFW). )

I'm paid to do things most people can't look at from work. I get paid to be naked.

I've been doing this for over fifteen years, now, and the more I do it, the more nuanced the poses become. In the beginning, I just stood up or laid down with my clothes off. Now, it's become far more involved. I incorporate elements from theatre, dance, martial arts, yoga, and calisthenics. I also copy famous poses from photographs and paintings. I understand framing, foreshadowing, and how to move to keep the right parts of myself in a thin, focused beam of light. I can switch from an expression of joy to one of horror between shots. I'm pretty darned good at my job.

Last night's photo shoot went fine. It was my first time posing for a photo class, and on the grand scheme of things, I prefer it to modelling for a drawing class. I get to move around a lot more, and extended poses are much shorter.

The class comprised of five amateur photographers, three of whom brought along model release forms. The first hour was spent watching a slide show about the history of nudes in photography. It was interesting, as some of the photos were new to me. Most of the early nudes obviously came from Tallulahs Classical Nude Paintings and Vintage Erotica, so you can create your own nude vintage slide show.

I was happy to see the works of Robert Mapplethorpe and Joel-Peter Witkin represented in the collection.

After the slide show, the students finally began shooting. I started off posing with a bright red stool (which matched my lipstick), then moved on to posing with wooden swords, a bright red fan, red flowers, brass hoops, a staff, orange maple leafs, and netting, all under a wide variety of lighting conditions. Out of all the gazillions of photos shot, surely there must be at least a few keepers.

A couple of the students gave me their email addresses, so maybe I'll find out soon enough.

The fashion show is finally over, thank goodness. Even when they're in my own city, they're a total time suck. But the night wasn't without its entertainment value.

As I walked to the club, a bald dude halloed me with, "You must be Russian!"

"Um, excuse me?"

"I said, you must be from Russia."

"Nooo...."

"Ah, then you must be Polish, right?"

"No. Actually, I'm Inuit."

He scratched at his pate for a moment, smiled, and said, "Oh yes! They're from Holland, right?"

...

I wore two dresses at the show tonight. Neither of them showed my arse. This lovely green dress is the second gown I wore. I can't find the first dress anywhere online, but if all goes well, there shall be pictures.

I was always on the cusp of a wardrobe malfunction with the green gown. I think it was designed to fit someone broader across the shoulders. Whenever I lowered a shoulder, the dress would shoot precipitously off me in that direction. The whole time I modelled the dress, I kept my arms up nice and high, tribal- or flamenco-style. Who'd have thought I'd need dance skills to model a gown?

And it's a good thing I can dance. And that adianta, the woman modelling with me, could dance, too. We ended up standing together on the stage all by ourselves for a good thirty seconds or more until the other models finally joined us. In that time, I did a lot of standing isolations. With my arms up nice and high. Go figure.

I suspect the fact that adianta and I are dancers has something to do with us being chosen to play the part of wood nymphs for that last song. We gallivanted about and sprinkled fistfuls of glitter all over the freaking place. I still don't know if that last set was good or just plain weird. It was certainly chaotic, with ice queens and demon queens and wood nymphs and minuet-dancing couples and zombie beauty queens staggering around, crashing into one another. It was almost like being at the Jillina workshop all over again! Heh....

The first dress I wore is a strappy long gown in black with a front panel of rosy claret. As I did my little turn on the catwalk, I stopped and struck poses at several points. On one of those points, I found myself looking directly at a guy who may have had a mullet (or maybe his hair was pulled back to resemble one). I held my pose and my smile, and then I had the horrid realization that this guy seemed to think that just because I was looking at him and smiling, that I must want him.

No matter, though. I only held the pose for four seconds, then moved on.

But at the end of the night, after I finished a pose for the photographer, I walked back toward the change room and the mullet man reached over and very firmly groped my belly. I couldn't even put my arms down to do anything about it, because then I would have been half naked and there's no way I wanted to reward that unasked-for gropeage. Gah!

It was a relief to put on my homely street clothes. No stranger's ever successfully groped me while I've been wearing those.

They're not the best photos (nasty flash, and all), and the outfit is way too small for me, but if you're so inclined, you can see what I looked like at the fet-night fashion show here. I'm the one with my arse hanging out. Way out.

What'm I gonna do with all that junk, all that junk hanging outta my trunk?

I felt more naked in that outfit than I do with nude modelling. Go figure.

I'm very disappointed I'm not at the ATS session right now. I mean, I'm the one who instigated the event in the first place. That sucks so hard. Bah, I say. BAH! I hope the others are having fun. Maybe they'll figure out some structure for the practice, and I won't have to do any more planning. I'm a dancer, not an organizer.

And I just received an email from a dancer in Montreal who wants to know if I travel to give floorwork workshops. About a year and a half ago, oceanfiretribal was talking about having me travel around to give sword dance workshops. I'm sure this is far more feasible now than it was then. Transportation is the biggest issue. I rely upon buses and the kindness of strangers to get around.

I need a manager or an assistant, damnit. Wanna do it for me? I can't pay you in money, but I can pay you in dance classes, personal training, and ummy-nummy baked goods (one of these things is not like the other....).

I baked muffins yesterday. The recipe is a good one, so I'll share.

Banana Chocolate Muffins

3 Shredded Wheat biscuits
1 cup milk
1/3 cup vegetable oil (I used olive oil)
1 1/2 cups lightly packed brown sugar (I used demerara sugar)
2 eggs
2 cups flour (I use whole wheat)
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
2 ripe mashed bananas
1/2 cup chocolate chips (I used peanut butter chips this time, but raspberry chocolate chips are my favourite for this recipe)

Heat oven to 400 F (200 C).

Crush the biscuits into fine shreds. Pour milk over top and set aside.

Cream oil and sugar. Add eggs and cream until light and fluffy.

Add Shredded Wheat mixture to egg mixture. Still until combined.

Combine dry ingredients and stir into wet mixture. Stir until just moistened. Add banana and chocolate chips.

Spoon batter into greased muffin tin, filling each cup to the top.

Bake for 25 minutes. Cool on rack, and store in an airtight container. Muffins freeze well. Makes 12 big muffins, or about 18 regular-sized muffins.

-------

Link time!

An Island of Ghosts: Hashima was once the most densely populated city in the world--there were 1,391 people per hectare. Now it's a total ghost town. You can view some wonderful photos of Hashima here.

Learning Spins: Good training advice on Rachel Brice's forum on how to prevent dizziness and nausea. I really need to work on this. It's one of my weak areas, for sure.

And on that note, I'm off to bake lemon poppyseed cake for real_bethy's welcome back party today. I might make an apple pie, too. We shall see.

Tomorrow, I'm getting all tarted up for a fashion show at Sin City in Hamilton. ( Info. behind the cut.... )