All of us, whether bare (nude) or textile (clothed), enjoy taking group photographs of ourselves with friends and/or family. A permanent reminder of a moment in time regardless if it was a year ago or just the past week. For the majority of us, it helps to refresh our memory of a happy time with those who are important in our lives. Many use some of their photographs to decorate the walls of their home: a “personal” decorative accessory to share with guests.
Here in the Northern Hemisphere, today is officially the first day of the Spring of 2017! We managed to somehow survive another barren winter and are eager to begin the season of renewal and rebirth! Most of us are savvy enough to realize that just because today is the beginning of the new season, it doesn’t mean that it’s even remotely possible for all of us to strip off our winter clothing and go prancing about in bare abandon.
In elementary school, we were required to memorize poetry in English then stand up in front of our class and recite the poem using American Sign Language (ASL). The purpose of this exercise was to teach us, as Deaf students, the ability to translate from English into ASL and to learn the essentials of English. This poem, The Daffodils, was one of those poems and I remember well the difficulties that I had committing it to memory.
On both my “About“ (click to view) page and through my postings here on ReNude Pride, I’ve written extensively of my husband, Aaron, and our lives together. What may, or may not, be known by others is that we are a multiracial couple. Aaron is African-American (black) and I am Greek (white). Race was never an issue for either one of us, nor our families, although we have encountered racism when we first lived together and since we’ve been married.
An acquaintance and I had a discussion maybe two months ago and the title question was the subject of our discourse. I’m unsure as to how the topic arose, but he was adamant that “there is no such thing as a modest nudist.” He continued his tirade with the statement that all nudists are closeted exhibitionists so the two cannot be compatible. I work with this individual and he is aware that in my leisure time, I am a bare practitioner (naturist/nudist).
Here in the USA, today, Monday, February 20, is the day that we honor all of the presidents of the country, the ones living and those deceased. I guess this month was selected because two of the earliest presidents, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, were born in February. As today is a national holiday, it is also the final three-day weekend of the winter season. For the past eight years, a fellow gay naturist/nudist friend of ours always invites between six to eight same gender loving bare couples to his home (near the Blue Ridge Mountains in rural Virginia) to spend the entire weekend, clothes-free, of course.
A nudist friend of mine from Massachusetts, USA, wisely informed me that the “proper” term for being bare (naked, nude) in the snow was s’naked. This was back in 2008, before I’d even contemplated anything as absurd and foolish as stripping off my clothes and romping completely carefree and clothes-free in the snow. Although I think of myself as a life-long naturist/nudist, up until that time, being bare and outside in the winter held no appeal to me. I knew that I preferred the heat and humidity and that was it. I had no desire to become a human popsicle!