purposeful and empowered

I might just have to subscribe to Esquire. In the 30 minutes or so that I spent perusing through the magazine, I was overwhelmed by the interesting elements to it—beyond the Ralph Lauren ad that actually kept me hooked (I couldn’t get enough of that scent, Black is my new addiction).

My attention was particularly captured by the Man At His Best (MAHB) segment, “Sex,” in which readers wrote in questions that some professional answered—not really sure who, I wasn’t paying attention. The first question (and cartoon image) related to a guy who finally convinced his girlfriend to let him take nude pictures of her—apparently the pics he took weren’t that hot… “she looks awkward,” he wrote. The response mentioned environmental changes like making the room warm, playing music and dimming the lights. There was also a mention of how she should position herself, and getting her “suitably, but not prohibitively wasted.”

Anyone who knows me well enough knows what this particular article/question was of interest to me. I have a series of theories about clothing, the gist of them all stems around the point that clothing is unnecessary and confiding. With that said, the article quoted Kathleen Rooney, nude model and author of Live Nude Girl: My Life as an Object. He quote spoke to the soul:

“It’s almost like nudity becomes a kind of clothing, so think of it that way. You’re not naked, which is vulnerable and accidental. You’re nude, which is purposeful and empowered.”

Purposeful and empowered. That’s how I look at nudity. It isn’t something to be ashamed of; it’s something that should be celebrated, comfortable, natural.

In western society, particularly in America, the body is treated as “bad.” I attribute that mindset to conservative values and the far-right religious foundations of this country. Regardless of where it came from, it exists. What’s worse is the newest incorporation of the body in mainstream culture subjects it to a tool of gratification, a simple object. It’s not longer celebrated as beautiful or art, like it was in ancient Greek and Roman societies. It is either rejected altogether—as awkward and uncomfortable—or objectified for viewers pleasure. I argue that a wider acceptance of our “nude” body, as opposed to “naked” would permit us to embrace the middle-ground appreciation of the human form. We wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by nude scenes in movies—you know what I’m talking about—or the person next to us in the gym locker room who insisits on walking to and from the shower naked. Better yet, where we don’t have to apologize or warn our roommates that sometimes we don’t wear a shirt around the apartment/change clothes without closing the door or in the middle of a conversation/walk around and undress at the same time… yes, I’m guilty on all three accounts.

In conclusion (which I’m using because it reminds me of writing five paragraph essays in high school), Esquire magazine is great reading. A true diamond in the rough. The next article, for example, shows real promise: “The Collected Wisdom of Esquire as it Relates to Drinking.” I suggest if you haven’t ever taken the time to flip through its pages, you consider doing so now.

Note: As I wrote this, I was casually perched on my couch with no shirt and talking to my roommate.. it doesn't get much better than this!

darkened, sweet

As I was flipping through Esquire Magazine today at work, while my computer ran the second of four virus scans.. I was blessed with the indulgence of men’s fragrance. Now, I’m normally not a fan of samples tucked between pages. There’s something particularly fake and flamboyant about them. This time, however, I was inspired—half by the scent, half by a letter to the editor that made little sense, but used the phrases “rich dessert of blended impressions to savor slowly,” and “a deep, dark wine with a secret finish of intellect,” and finally “take the foot off life’s gas pedal and submit to the nuanced flavors of language.” I was inspired by the full-bodied richness that was not only masculine but smooth and relaxing. It left a fullness, like I had embarked to savor the scent, slowly. There was also something dark about it, like a cigar smoke-filled room, tucked away in the basement down a muggy alley. When I finally turned to the culprit ad—already in love with it and prepared to buy a bottle to give to the boyfriend I don’t have—I was disappointed in the image, not quite what I imagined, but the name: perfect.

Polo. Black. Ralph Lauren.

a new beginning

I suppose an introduction is in order.

This is blog is round II for me. The first, which I found rather tedious and boring—more a chore than anything else—was an attempt to be insightful on my own life, a reflection of sorts on what is going on in my life. But, I rarely write in it and it’s more a chore than anything else. Obviously, if I think it is boring, naive and un-insightful, I don't presume that others think much more of it. With that said, this blog is set up with the purest intention to be intelligent and interesting. I hope to develop myself through thoughtful discussion of and on things I come across daily. Time permitting, it is my goal to post seven times a week—not necessarily daily, but seven times per week. I’ll do my best to leave the personal reflection on my life happenings to the chore of a first blog, and prevent this from becoming a sort of emotional dumpsite.

Hummingbird-gypsy soul is the combination of nouns that I’ve deemed most appropriate to describe myself, my interests and my life. They represent the way I view who I am. Hummingbird is the least obvious. It stemmed from finding the quote that now serves as the blog description. I was searching for a Mother’s Day card at Papyrus. Inside the card I selected, on a separate insert, was that quote. It instantly clicked that the simplicity of the hummingbird legend was a way that I looked at life. I’ve often said that I’m a closet artist, with a two-year-olds perception on life, but in reading this, I’ve come to relate to the hummingbird.

Gypsy is purposely gypsy, not capitalized. I recently read an article in the New York Times about prejudice against Gypsies (Roma) in Hungary. It sparked my interested and I did some research on Gypsies. There is a difference between Gypsy and gypsy. To learn more, read here if you so desire. I am in no way associating myself with their culture and lifestyle. I am however referring to the more conventional use of gypsy as a “wanderer” or “nomad.” I grew up in one town, in New Mexico. I graduated high school with people I went to kindergarten with.. since then my family has moved three times, and I ventured to New Jersey for school before my recent establishment in Washington, DC. I have no problem uprooting my life and resettling somewhere else. I view my home as where I am, regardless of any emotional ties or long-withstanding connection to the area.

The final piece, “soul,” is because I feel hummingbird and gypsy speak directly to my core, my embodiment, how I see myself. Soul is the easiest way to explain that without directly saying “hummingbird-gypsy to my core, embodiment, my self-perception.” It's the simplest way to encompass the broad application of hummingbird and gypsy to my life.

With all that out of the way, welcome and enjoy! (I apologize for the lame ending, but I’ve exhausted my creative energies for one day)