To support the project and get the latest updates on limited edition prints, NFTs, workshops, and to subscribe to my newsletter, Substack, and Patreon, please go here.

**The Face of Eros** | Mistress Bella Bathory No.1

“By now everyone is familiar with porn publisher Gloria Leonard's quote that "the difference between pornography and erotica is lighting." As far as quotes go it's a great one: glib, concise and memorable. But is it true? People kept asking how I tell the erotic photography from the porn, and invariably the lighting question would come up. At first, I just said I go by my gut-but after looking at thousands of purported erotic photos I've got some better answers, and they have very little to do with lights.

I began to see how lighting, composition and creative vision could add up to a more іntimate photograph, enhancing the viewer's connection to the model and increasing the sexual impact.

This debate about what distinguishes artistic nudіty from base pornography is as old as the first nude photograph, meaning nearly as old as photography itself. To the puritan, all nudes are filth; to the libertine all are defensible. Most people fall somewhere in between, but there is so much in between that there's seldom agreement.

I also have been asked, if a photo could, or should, be called erotic if it doesn't аrοuse Ⅰust. A widely held point of view among photographers is that Ⅰust is unimportant because erotic photography is about beauty, or sensualіty or psychological stimulation, and that аrοusing the viewer was just an occasional unplanned side effect. Curious, since the definition of erotic is "of or pertaining to the sexual pаssiοn'' (The Oxford Universal Dictionary), or "аrοusing, or designed to аrοuse, feelings of sexual dеsіrе" (Microsoft Word Dictionary). 

Would photographers be so at odds with the dictionaries if crass, uninspired sexual imagery were less culturally ubiquitous? Of course they want to distinguish themselves from the glut of generic porn, but if the point of separation is the viewer's zipper the genre becomes a contradiction in terms. So how does erotic photography maintain its dignity while staying true to its sexual roots? Perhaps by embracing its potential to be more аrοusing than pornography.

Eros was, after all, not just the God of love, but of sexual love, the most sublime form. Ρassionate love is such a dizzying, transcendent union of heart, mind, body and soul, that erotic photographers should be over-supplied with inspiration and, by extension, fans. Pornography's supposed appeal of sеx reduced to its physical mechanics, divorced from emotional commitment, seems faint by comparison. I say "supposed," however, because my years editing a variety of magazines taught me that men do weave fantasies of love around models in even the crudest pornography. I've read hundreds of tender, heartfelt letters sent to women known only to the writers from their photographs in magazines, enough to convince me that the male ability to separate sеx and love is way overrated. If anything, men are particularly vulnerable to falling for women who fulfill their sexual fantasies. Consider how often you hear of a man leaving his wife for a new woman because she makes more money. So, if men can fall in love with porn models, you'd think the models often found in erotic photography would reduce them to jelly. And they do, when the women are allowed to show their faces.

Why do so many photographers think the way to invest a nude with artistic integrity is to cut her head off? Oh, they'll tell you they love and respect women and find pornography hateful and degrading, but I can't be the only one who sees a headless woman as more of an object than a complete woman with her legs spread. Some photographers even describe their work as "bodyscapes," because they've made the poor models look like boulders or sand dunes instead of human beings. I've heard the explanations that these headless bodies maintain mystery or modesty, but I still feel cheated. The photographer, after all, got to see everything. He enjoyed his model's blush as she undressed for the camera the first time. He saw her anxiety as she searched his face for approval and watched her confidence grow when she found it. If he was lucky he also caught the glow when she discovered her exhibitionistic streak. Then he, or she, keeps all that for themself and gives us a bodyscape? This is why romantic men are buying porn instead of erotic photography. The camera work may be uninspired, but at least there are faces to search for a spark of pаssiοn, for some hint of genuine sexual response.

When I was researching Νаkеd as a Jaybird, my book on 1960s hippie nudist magazines, I interviewed a photographer in his late 80s who had worked for nudist, girlie and art photo magazines back in the 1950s. One company in Chicago owned all the tіtles and issued a separate set of photographer's guidelines for each. For the nudist magazines the model was to be completely naked, with one leg angled to hide her pubіc region, smiling at the viewer to show her healthy innocence. For the girlie magazines the model was partially dressed, to add sexual tension, with provocative eye contact to make the viewer feel dеsіrеd. And for the figure art magazines the model was to be completely nude but subsequently airbrushed, with her head turned away from the viewer. “So she would look like a statue," said the old photographer, "and that's what made it art." 50 years later and photographers are still using this tired old formula for art nudes. Isn't it time for a change?

Here, then, is my gut's guide to telling erotic photography from pornography. First, toss out all the bodyscapes. Take what remains and study the model's figure. Is it frozen in a pose that serves no useful purpose in everyday life? Are the fingers of one hand formed in a V and used to separate the labia for no apparent reason? These may be the subtle signs of porn. Now the really important part: Examine the face. Does the overall expression suggest smoldering pаssiοn, while the eyes say nobody's home? Regardless of the lighting, I'd say you've got some pornography here.

Erotic photography, on the other hand, should show the body in believable positions and more important, it must capture some genuine emotion on the model's face. Ideally, we'll see her pleasure at sharing herself with the viewer, but I will accept embarrassment, uncertainty, even anger, as long as there's something looking back at me to say a living, breathing woman was part of the photographic process.

Erotic photography at its best should reveal the small imperfections that make a woman unique and memorable, and provide the hook to grab your heart. Only when these elements are in place is it time to check out the lighting.

If it sounds like I think erotic photography is as much about the model as the photographer, I've made myself clear. When I look at a sеxy photograph I don't want to see technical tricks. I want to be sucked in by the woman in the picture and fooled into feeling a part of her sexual agenda. Making that trick work takes much more talent than just moving lights.

Face it: Very few professional nude models can be honest in front of a camera. They quickly learn to hit their poses and cover their vulnerability with a simulacrum of pаssiοn that makes real eroticism impossible. A great photographer has to recognize the woman who can truly share herself with the camera, then he or she must be able to tease out that feeling and catch it on film, a skill not taught in photo school. In my experience this requires an іntimate connection with the model, not necessarily physical intimacy, but an emotional bond to fuel the creative relationship. One of the best photographers I know tells me he's drained after a session because he projects his own feelings and energy onto his models to propel the shoot forward. That's far more personal investment than shouting, ''Now arch your back! Yeah, make me want it, baby! '' while running your model through glamour poses one through ten. But maybe how much self you're willing to sacrifice is, in the end, the real separation between erotica and porn.

I hope you construct elaborate fantasies about the women in these photos and feel that if you two ever met, the chemistry would be instant, mutual, and all-consuming. And that will lead towards dispelling the myth that all it takes to raise Eros is the right light.”

—Dian Hanson, Shedding Some Light from the foreword to The New Erotic Photography Volume 1

*****

“I quote others only in order the better to express myself.” —Michel de Montaign

Is it ironic to use a quote that describes using quotes to better express oneself, in order to better express why I use quotes with my photography? Probably.

My interest and love of fine art nude photography spans a wide array of artists, including Edward Weston, Robert Mapplethorpe, Helmut Newton, Jock Sturges, Bill Brandt, Jeanloup Sieff, Irving Penn, and many others.

During my photo workshops, I always teach my participants to photograph what they love. If you don’t love your subject, how can you expect anyone looking at your art to love your work? My first book comprised images encompassing 10 years of live Rock ’n’ Roll shows. My second book contained over twenty years of my photography in Cuba. I loved and was obsessed with both subjects. So, photographing nudes is simply my latest love/obsession.

I discovered the book (from which the top quote is taken), The New Erotic Photography Volume 1, about three years and more than seventy individual shoots already completed in my erotic portraits project. It was a moment of great serendipity to discover someone (with much more experience and greater writing skills than I) had been thinking (and writing) about the same things I had - photographing the nude with an emphasis on the subject’s face - and personality.

I often see nudes where bodies are reduced to objects, with as much sexuality in the images as in a photo of a bag of rocks. I’ve often heard many photographers brag about and declare as their main goal in photographing nudes, (while certainly beautiful) to do so with literally zero sexuality. Why? That is definitely not the way I see the world or a naked woman - nor would I want to. I have always wondered about the real authentic sexuality and humanness of the women in these images. I want the women to look at the images I photograph of them, and say, “Yes, that is really me - not just my body or my model persona”. A true erotic portrait.

In Hanson's exploration of erotic photography, we find a nuanced understanding that transcends mere visual aesthetics. It's about the emotional resonance, the unspoken dialogue between the viewer and the subject. The assertion that true erotic photography involves an emotional connection, a kind of intimate storytelling, aligns with the philosophy that art is not just seen but deeply felt.

Hanson’s discourse also reveals an acute awareness of the underlying power dynamics inherent in erotic photography. This is more than mere visual stimulation; it's an exploration of vulnerability, control, and authenticity. The true essence of eroticism, as Hanson suggests, lies not in the superficial arousal but in the complex interplay of emotional and physical elements, crafting a narrative that speaks to the deeper aspects of human sexuality and dеsіrе.

This perspective challenges the photographer to not only focus on the physical beauty but to also capture the essence of the subject's personality and emotions. It’s about creating a dialogue between the subject and the viewer, where each image becomes a reflection of the complexities of human sexuality and emotion. In doing so, erotic photography asserts its artistry, maintaining its roots in sexuality while elevating itself to a form that communicates not just to the body, but to the heart and mind, thereby capturing the true spirit and essence of eroticism.

Each image becomes a canvas upon which our collective stories of desire, shame, and liberation is painted. Hanson's words reflect intricate patterns of our societal fabric, where the portrayal of the human body is as much about cultural narratives as it is about aesthetics. In this space, photography is not merely a medium of expression but a tool for unearthing hidden truths. Through these images, we are invited to confront our own biases and to challenge our definitions of beauty, lust, love and sexuality.

**She Makes You Watch Her From Above** | Ana No. 1

     
    


    “You put your lips to her lips
To stop the lie

Her skin is pale like God's only dove
Screams like an angel for your love
Then she makes you watch her from above
And you need her like a druɡ

She wears my love like a see-through dress
Her lips say one thing
Her movements something else
Oh love, like a screaming flower
Love, dying every hour

And you don't know if it's fear or dеsіrе
Danger the druɡ that takes you higher?
Head of Heaven
Fingers in the mire

Her heart is racing, you can't keep up
The night is bleeding like a cut
Between the horses of love and Ⅰust we are trampled
Underfoot

Oh love
You say in love there are no rules
Oh love
Sweetheart
You're so cruel.”

So Cruel. Song by U2
Songwriters: Paul David Hewson / Adam Clayton / Larry Mullen / Dave Evans

U2 has always been one of my favorite bands, both lyrically and sonically. I have seen them many times in concert and they have several spreads in my first published book.
 
In the evocative words of "So Cruel," I find a parallel to my artistic vision in photographing this project. The song encapsulates the intricate dance between love and lust, themes central to my work. Each lyric resonates with the emotional depth and authenticity I strive to capture—the thrilling truth of human desire. 
 
The lyrics, speak of love in its most primal form—a force that transcends words, manifesting in the electric touch, the feverish glance, the unguarded moment of vulnerability. The song is an exploration of the aesthetics of desire, an ode to the beauty and complexity of human sexuality. It's a journey into the heart of what it means to feel, to want, to ache with longing.
 
The metaphor of the transparent dress, suggestive of self-exposure and intimacy, brings to mind the nuanced translucency of truth and illusion in our perceptions. This is a perception I try to play with in my work. I often refer to the images I am creating as “manufactured reality”. I want them to feel like they are captured in real moments, yet have an edge of a dreamlike quality. Manufactured reality.
 
It's not merely about capturing the external form, but rather delving into the inner sanctum of human desire. The depiction of love as a force that both elevates and tramples is reflective of the stark contrasts and raw emotion found in unbridled desire.

**Temptation** | Empress Jazmin Wu No. 1

     
    “I can resist everything,
except temptation.”
 
—Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan, Lord Darlington Act 1, 1892
 
This quote encapsulates Wilde's renowned wit and his philosophical perspective on human nature and society, reflecting a seductive interplay of power, desire, and human nature. It mirrors the complex dynamics of restraint and indulgence, highlighting a masterful understanding of temptation's psychological depths. This aphorism, going beyond a mere testament to human weakness, celebrates our inherent desire for joy and pleasure. 
 
Set against the rigid social norms of the late Victorian era, Wilde's words humorously yet incisively expose the universal struggle between restraint and indulgence, revealing inherent contradictions in human behavior and Victorian hypocrisy. Delving into the nature of desire, it suggests that the strength to resist temptation is often its own undoing. Moreover, it captures not only the suppressed desires of the Victorian era but also challenges the Platonic ideals of love, suggesting that the allure of temptation is an essential part of the human experience.

**Lick and a Promise** | Fatima+Mistress Andrea No. 1

     
    


    “Johnny like to gamble with his lady Louise
She was a black jack deuces are wild
He got to thinking 'bout his nose in the breeze
Put it there, Johnny looked and he smiled
 
He started thinking 'bout the fortune and fame
With the young girls down at his knees
He dug the money but forgot all the names
So he knew just how to appease
 
He gave the ladies a
Lick and a promise
He gets his woman every night for free
He's out there rockin' like you wouldn't believe.”
 
Lick And A Promise. Song by Aerosmith
Songwriters: Joe Perry / Steven Tyler / Steven Victor Tallarico

Aerosmith has always been a favorite band of mine. The sheer power and funky groove. I have seen them in concert many times. Is there another rock band whose lyrics have consistently been so sexual? The Stones? Zeppelin?

The song reflects the historical context of the 1970s rock scene, where themes of fame, sexual freedom, and transient relationships were prevalent. This era marked a departure from traditional values, embracing a more liberated approach to love and sexual expression. Each fleeting romance is just a brief pit stop, a mere "lick and a promise" in the grand scheme of things.

Live rock music holds a special intense and palpable magic that can be a potent, electrifying force – reminiscent of sex. It's like walking on a tightrope, where everything is perfectly balanced yet constantly on the edge. In this series, I aim to capture this feeling, to seize that vibrant, live-wire energy in every image. 

During my shoots, I always play music. Loudly. I’m always threading the needle between the volume of the music and the ability of the model actually to hear anything I might say. If there were a way to communicate psychically, I’d turn the volume to 11 (kudos if you get the Spinal Tap reference). The power of loud music, especially rock music, can be very visceral and really enables the models to get lost in their emotions – which is really the only thing I am after during a shoot.

“For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it.
For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it.    
For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.”

—Ivan Panin

Historically, beauty, truth, and love have undergone continuous evolution and reinterpretation across various cultures and eras, highlighting their enduring significance and universal resonance in the tapestry of human experience.

Beauty exists, not in a vacuum, but in the eyes that recognize and appreciate it, transcending mere form to become an object of desire, highlighting the act of seeing as a key component in the aesthetics of desire. As a photographer, it is not just beauty in its objective physical form that is interesting, but rather in the act of seeing, in the desire to capture and immortalize beauty.

This realization points to a profound truth about human perception and the subjectivity of experience. Our realities are shaped by our perceptions, each individual uniquely attuned to see, hear, and feel things differently. Beauty, truth, and love are not absolute entities, but rather, they are dependent on the observer's perspective. 

Furthermore, it underscores the idea that our experiences and emotions are not isolated, but are part of a larger, shared human experience. Even if unobserved or unappreciated by some, there is always a place in the world for beauty, truth, and love.

**Kiss The Boot of Shiny Leather |** Aurora No.1

     
    


    “Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin awaits you there

Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now bleed for me.” 

Venus In Furs. Song by The Velvet Underground
Songwriters: Lou Reed

A masterclass in how to dress up the transgressive in a velvet cloak of verse; it's the kind of song that makes you wonder if the Marquis de Sade had a hand in the Velvet Underground's songwriting sessions.

A confession of sorts, a bold declaration of one's right to pleasure and erotic exploration, untethered by the judgment of the world. The song becomes a beacon for those yearning to explore the depths of their desires, urging them to taste the freedom that comes with accepting and living their truth.

Reed's song is a sardonic waltz through the gardens of Eros, where the roses are leather-clad, the thorns are part of the appeal and leather boots are not just fashion statements, but symbols of power dynamics as intricate and layered as the song itself.

It’s the kind of song that plays in a therapist's waiting room in an alternate universe, where Freudian slips are accessorized with leather, and the superego is gagged and bound in the corner. A velvet-draped reminder that sometimes the chains of desire are not just metaphorical; they come with matching accessories.

     
    “Love begins with an image; lust with a sensation.”
 
—Mason Cooley
 
Cooley's distinction between love and lust alludes to the dual sensory gateways of our passions, reminding us that love and lust, while intertwined, have distinct triggers. 
 
Love, the more cerebral of the two, is sparked by an image, while lust, the primal counterpart, is ignited by a sensation, a testament to the complex dynamics of our emotional landscape. This interplay of the seen and felt leaves an indelible mark on the canvas of our desires, creating a rich tapestry of human experience.

Often capturing our gaze with a mesmerizing image, love wraps around the heart like a finely crafted collar, elegant and enduring. With its tendency to don rose-colored glasses, love starts with an image – literal or metaphorical – that the mind embellishes until the subject becomes more artwork than flesh.

In contrast, lust is an impulsive tug, a visceral sensation of the immediacy of the moment, a raw and thrilling journey through the senses, pulling us on a leash of desire. Lust, defined by sensation, should be celebrated as a fundamental and honest expression of our nature. Far from being shallow or base, this perspective recognizes lust as an essential and vibrant part of the human experience.

The "image" of love often cloaks itself in societal ideals, painting a picture of romance that conforms to traditional narratives. But beneath this veneer, there's a pulsating truth: our quest for genuine connection is often muddled by the expectations imposed upon us. Lust, on the other hand, with its unapologetic, raw sensation, speaks to the core of our being. It's a rebellion against the confines of conventional love, a fearless dive into the depths of our desires. This dichotomy challenges us to confront the pretenses we wear in the name of love and embrace the authenticity of our sensual needs.

Together, love and lust don't just coexist; they perform a duet, each enriching the other, painting a picture of human relationships that's as complex as it is beautiful.

**That's Love Too** | Nicole, Dakota+Mika No.1

     
    “There's two of us and one of you, and whenever we feel like it, we can be three. That's love too, you know.” 

—S.Dora

Consensual non-conformity, where the boundaries of self blur into the collective will of desire. The quote slyly waltzes around convention, suggesting that in the mathematics of love, sometimes adding another variable is the secret to solving the equation.

The traditional confines of monogamous love are transcended, embracing a broader spectrum of erotic desire. It's an exploration of boundaries, both personal and shared, where the lines of individual desires merge into a collective erotic journey.

A sly critique of the confines of monogamy and a playful poke at the picket-fence paradigm, asking rhetorically, 'Why settle for a duet when you can have a symphony?'

     
    “As I would free the white almond from the green husk
So I would strip your trappings off,
Beloved.
And fingering the smooth and polished kernel
I should see that in my hands glittered a gem beyond counting.”

—Amy Lowell

Amy Lowell's poetic imagery captures the essence of eroticism, paralleling the sensual art of undressing to the revealing of a precious gem. This metaphorical striptease is not merely about the removal of physical layers, but an exploration into the depths of desire and allure. The green husk and the white almond become symbols of the human form and the soul within, each layer peeled back unveiling more of the raw, unvarnished truth.

In the revelation of the kernel, a gem beyond counting, lies the ultimate liberation - the discovery of one's true erotic self. This act of revealing is charged with a palpable eroticism, each layer discarded bringing us closer to the core of our carnal desires. It's a celebration of the aesthetics of desire, a moment where the physical and the spiritual converge, creating an image of beauty and sensuality that is both provocative and deeply intimate.

Lowell's poem thus becomes an allegory of love and desire that transcends the mere physical act of undressing. The 'trappings' represent the facades and pretenses we maintain, the societal norms and expectations that often obscure our true selves. The act of stripping them off signifies a liberation from these constraints, a journey towards authenticity and vulnerability. It is in this space of openness and authenticity that we find the true essence of love and lust, a connection that is as rare and precious as the most exquisite gem.

**Hold Them in Your Hands** | Goddess Anat No. 1

     
    “I never liked photography. Not for the sake of photography. I like the object. I like the photographs when you hold them in your hand.”
 
—Robert Mapplethorpe
 
In the palms of one's hands, a photograph or a photo book becomes an intimate encounter with art. Unlike the transient nature of digital images, these physical objects invite a deeper interaction. They demand a level of attention and presence often lost in the rapid consumption of digital media. Turning the pages of a photo book, feeling the texture of the paper, the weight of the book, creates a sensory experience that adds considerably to the appreciation of the art being admired.
 
In this tactile engagement, one finds a sense of grounding, a reminder of the physical world in an increasingly virtual landscape. It is a celebration of the materiality of photography, a recognition of the medium's ability to capture not just images, but experiences, emotions, and a sense of place and time. Holding a photograph or a photo book, one is reminded of the power of photography to connect us to the tangible, the real, and the enduring aspects of our world and our experiences within it.
 
Each photograph, each page of a well-crafted photo book, carries a weight that transcends its physical form. It's a connection not just to the image itself, but to the moment it captures, the artist's vision, and the intricate process of its creation. 
 
I have come to treasure the vast collection of photo books that line my shelves (including all of Mapplethorpe’s books), each a testament to the enduring power of printed photography. These books are not merely collections of images; the best of them are personal are narratives of the photographer bound together in a physical form. They invite a more contemplative engagement, a slower, more deliberate journey through the visual stories they tell.
 
The act of leafing through a photographic book is a ritual of sorts, a slow dance of discovery that demands attention and rewards with intimacy. Each photograph, a frozen sliver of time, becomes a world unto itself, inviting contemplation and study. 
 
This tactile pleasure is a reminder of photography's roots, a nod to the darkroom's alchemy where images first emerged on paper, tangible and real. In a world where images flicker and fade with a swipe or a click, the enduring presence of a photographic print or book is a testament to the medium's lasting power. 
 
Buying photobooks these days often seems like a quiet rebellion against the ephemeral nature of the digital deluge, a statement of value placed on permanence and presence.
 
 It is a joy and a privilege to surround oneself with such artifacts, to build a library of captured moments that stand in quiet defiance of the transitory, and hold the weighty evidence of art's enduring impact in one's hands.

**Whip It Good** | Mistress Corinne No. 1

     
    


    “Crack that whip
Give the past a slip
Step on a crack
Break your mama's back

When a problem comes along
You must whip it
Before the cream sits out too long
You must whip it
When something's going wrong
You must whip it

Now whip it
Into shape
Shape it up
Get straight
It's not too late
To whip it
Whip it good

When a good time turns around
You must whip it
You will never live it down
Unless you whip it
No one gets away
Until they whip it."

Whip It. Song by Devo
Songwriters: Gerald Casale / Mark Mothersbaugh

Here we have a band, clad in their quirky red energy dome hats, offering a piece of advice that might as well have been plucked from the annals of Camus or Sartre: when faced with the absurdities and existential crises of life, one's best bet is to 'whip it into shape.' This aligns with the concept of 'becoming' over 'being,' emphasizing the dynamic process of self-creation and the rejection of predetermined roles or identities. 
 
At its core, the song encapsulates a fundamental philosophical principle: the imperative to act in the face of adversity. The song's repetitive urging to 'whip it' can be interpreted as a call to exercise one's will, a Nietzschean affirmation of individual power and agency. It echoes the existentialist view of creating meaning through action and the rejection of passive acceptance of circumstances. 
 
It's the soundtrack to the Sisyphean struggles of life, a testament to the human spirit, a tribute to the eternal optimist who, faced with a mountain of adversity, doesn't just climb it, but whips it into a molehill. The song is a sly serenade to the dominatrix of determination, a sassy cheerleader in leather, a motivational speaker with a fondness for paddles, urging us to lace up our corsets of tenacity and stride into the fray with whips held high.
 
This song, much like the kink experience itself, is not merely about the act, but the profound psychological interplay involved. It speaks to the transformative power of taking control, or conversely, surrendering it. And as such is not just about the action it describes; it's about the underlying hunger, the primal force that drives us towards such acts of passion and the aesthetic beauty found within them.
 
Ultimately, it's a call to embrace the unpredictable cadence of life with a sense of purpose and creativity. It's about finding the music in the mundane, the extraordinary in the ordinary, and transforming the act of living into an art form.
 
Amidst this call to action and empowerment, the photographer's eye shifts from the metaphoric to the literal. In the mosaic of existence, where every piece contributes to the whole, we find a counterpart in the art of capturing fleeting moments, giving them permanence.
 
The camera is not just a tool but an extension of vision and intent; the act of capturing an image mirrors the precision of a whip's crack, each snap of the shutter a decisive moment, segmenting the continuous flow of time into isolated fragments of reality. The camera, like the whip, becomes an instrument of revelation, a tool to delicately unravel and expose the layers that dwell beneath the surface, bringing order and coherence to the chaos of the visual world.
 
This process unfolds in a consensual tango of trust and artistic expression, where the photographer orchestrates a harmonious interplay between light and shadow, reality, and perception, navigating the delicate balance of power, weaving a narrative that is both seen and unseen, overt and implicit. This dance of contrasts creates a visual symphony, a testament to the intricate interplay of control and surrender, where the photographer, much like a conductor with a baton or a dominatrix with a whip, guides the viewer's eye, revealing a world rich in depth and complexity.
 
Photography can be a place of transformation and development (pun intended). Here, in this sanctum of creativity, raw, unrefined captures are developed and nurtured into their full potential. In the kind of intimate portrait sessions I am doing for this project, where sexuality is explored, there's an underlying rhythm, a pulse of creative energy that drives the process. There are nuances of this rhythm, the ebb and flow of giving and taking, leading and following, that lead toward creating a compelling image that explores the subject's essence. 
 
In this space, each photograph "developed" is more than an image; it's a celebration of the depth and complexity of the relationship between the observer and the observed, each playing their part in the creation of something truly transcendent.    

**A Pure Hand** | Mistress Bella Bathory No.2

     
    “A pure hand needs no glove to cover it.”

—Nathaniel Hawthorne

Who doesn't like sliding their hand into a tight-fitting leather glove? I wonder who has more accessories, a well-heeled pro Domme, like Bella, or the average pro photographer. I've seen some eye-popping displays come through my studio photographing this project. But then again, I probably have 20 different camera bags I've collected over the years sitting unused in my closet right now.
 
Hawthorne's adage invites a philosophical exploration into the nature of authenticity and moral purity. It challenges the concept of superficiality in ethical conduct proposing that true purity and virtue are inherent qualities that do not require external validation or concealment. This perspective aligns with the philosophical discourse on authenticity, suggesting that genuine moral character should be transparent and visible, unobscured by the trappings of societal appearances. 
 
Hawthorne's posits a dichotomy between appearance and reality, where the former often masks the latter, encouraging introspection and sincerity, urging individuals to examine their moral compass beyond societal expectations and to embrace a life of honesty and integrity without the need for external adornments or disguises.
 
On the other hand (pun intended), a glove can be a tool of seduction, a tantalizing hint of the forbidden, a device of seduction, a provocative promise of pleasures yet to come. It can turn a simple touch into a shiver of anticipation, a gentle caress into a gasp of pleasure, a mundane moment into a memory of passion. It's the secret weapon, the magic touch, the hidden ace in the leather-clad hand of a dominatrix. The glove isn't just a cover for a pure hand, but a mischievous accessory for a hand that's up to no good. 
 
Like a painter who chooses to leave part of the canvas untouched or a photographer using negative space, Hawthorne invites us to embrace the beauty of our unvarnished selves, reminding us that sometimes the most profound statement is the one unspoken, the truth that lies in what is not concealed.
 
On the other other hand (anyone tracking how many hands that is?), as Freud said, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar," so maybe a leather glove is just a leather glove, and that people (i.e., me) should not always try to look for hidden meanings or subtext in everything, and that sometimes things can be taken at face value.

     
    “And I had a vision. Yes, last night, I had a vision. And I felt God's breath go through me, and it moved down into my stomach and sloshed around, and my stomach spoke in a whisper, not a shout: Touch this woman with your hands, and caress her.”

—Eli Sunday
 
This vision, draped in divine metaphor, speaks to the liberation found in embracing one's sexuality. A journey of self-discovery, where the act of touching transcends mere physicality, becoming a means to explore and affirm one's sexual identity. The divine imagery used suggests a higher sanction for such explorations, lending a sense of righteousness to acts often deemed taboo. It's a narrative of empowerment, where the act of caressing becomes a radical expression of self, a confession of one's deepest, most authentic desires.
 
This narrative is deeply rooted in the spiritual and emotional connections that bind us, illustrating how our desires and the act of touching, then, becomes a means of bridging the gap between the divine and the mundane, creating a space where intimate connections can transcend time and space, weaving together the threads of our shared humanity.
 
The divine breath, moving through the body into the stomach, symbolizes the transformative power of spiritual insight as it collides with the earthly realm of desire. This whisper in the stomach, a quiet yet powerful acknowledgment of our deepest longings, challenges us to reevaluate our understanding of desire, not as mere physicality, but as a complex emotional and spiritual journey. In this act of touching, there's a recognition of the divine within the human, an acceptance that our carnal desires can be as spiritually significant as our highest ideals. This vision encourages us to embrace the totality of our being, finding beauty and meaning in the convergence of our spiritual and sensual selves.
 
It's as if our deepest urges, often seen as purely personal and spontaneous, might actually be echoes of a higher, perhaps divine, orchestration. This concept challenges the traditional separation of the sacred and profane, suggesting that our most intimate desires could be part of a grander cosmic plan, blurring the lines between spiritual destiny and sensual impulse. It invites us to ponder whether the divine touch in our lives is a guiding force or merely a reflection of our innermost longings, leading to deeper introspection about the true nature of desire and the unseen forces that shape our most human experiences.
 
One can perceive a nuanced parallel in contemplating the relationship between the divine directive in the quote and the art of fine art nude photography. Both realms artistically explore the delicate balance between revelation and concealment, where the hidden and the manifest intertwine. In fine art nudes, the photographer seeks to unveil not only the physical form, but the intrinsic beauty and vulnerability inherent in the subject, much like the divine whisper in the quote suggests an uncovering of deeper, perhaps even sacred, aspects of desire. This artistic process transcends mere visual portrayal; it becomes a metaphorical exploration of the human condition, revealing how our most profound urges and truths often lie beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered or, in some divine instances, revealed. 
 
In this context, the artist's camera becomes a medium for divine revelation, much like the whisper in the quote suggests an ethereal insight into the deeper realms of desire. Photographing the nude form transcends mere documentation; it becomes an act of uncovering truths, akin to a spiritual awakening, where each image captures not just the physicality of the subject but also the intangible essence of their being.
 
This process is a delicate dance between the seen and unseen, echoing the divine interplay in the quote. The photographer, like the divine presence, gently guides the revelation, bringing to light aspects of the human form and psyche that are typically veiled. Each photograph is a moment of truth, a synthesis of the artist's vision and the subject's essence, revealing layers of vulnerability, strength, and beauty.
 
In this artistic journey, the photographer and the subject engage in a dialogue transcending the physical. It's a process that not only captures beauty but also engages with the profound mysteries of human desire and the sacred, mirroring the thematic essence of the quote. Here, the artistic process becomes a metaphor for understanding and exploring the depths of human experience, a canvas where the divine touch subtly influences the creation of art that is as revealing as it is enigmatic.
 
In this, there's an undercurrent of something more profound than the immediate visual narrative. The photographer's own perspective might be seen as tangentially echoing the ethereal whisper from the quote, a sort of unspoken guidance that directs the eye and heart beyond the superficial. This artistic endeavor becomes an oblique pilgrimage into the unknown territories of the human psyche, where each captured image is a cryptic metaphor, a visual haiku of desire and divinity.
 
It's less about the explicit revelation of form and more about the implicit exploration of the unseen, the unspoken. The camera, in this sense, is not just a tool but a divining rod, seeking out the subtle streams of meaning that flow beneath the surface of the human form, capturing not just an image but the echo of a greater, more elusive truth. In this way, the artistry of the photographer becomes a journey into the periphery of perception, where the lines between the sacred and the profane are blurred, and the act of creation is a whisper away from a divine touch, each frame becoming not just an image but a revelation, that finds expression in the nuanced, silent poetry of the human form, unveiled in its most vulnerable and truthful state.

     
    “The еrοtic photographer also has a profound effect on the person being photographed. Even the most sensually aware individual will not have a sense of his or her own beauty from another’s gaze. The invisible eyes of the photographer can substіtute for the gaze of the lover and that of society. When acting as the desiring and approving eyes of the lover, the photos created gives the model a new visual language and self-awareness as a sensual being. Not only is she validated, but she may also discover her own visual sensual appeal that she was not previously aware of. Let’s celebrate and enjoy the art created by the sеxual, fеtish and еrοtic photographers.”

—Midori, Wild Side Ѕex: The Book Of Kink: Educational, Sensual, and Entertaining Essays

As a photographer, my aim with this project is to transcend the traditional portrayal of the 'female body' and delve into the deeper, richer narrative of the individual as a sexual being. I strive not just to capture a physical form, but to engage with the person within, to understand and convey their unique sexual essence. My lens is not merely an observer of the body; it is a medium through which the intricate tapestry of desires, strengths, vulnerabilities, and the multifaceted nature of the model's sexuality is explored and celebrated.
 
In this process, I seek to create images that are dialogues, not monologues. They are conversations between myself, the subject, and the eventual viewer, encompassing a journey of mutual discovery. I aim to reveal the person behind the form, to bring forth the vibrant, authentic sexual identity that often lies masked behind societal labels and expectations.
 
This project is a testament to the belief that true human sexuality is a complex, profound, and beautiful aspect of our identity. It's about seeing and portraying the models not as mere subjects, but as partners in this artistic journey, each with their own story and essence. In this endeavor, my camera is both a witness and a narrator, capturing moments of truthful revelation and presenting a vision of human sexuality that is as diverse and intricate as the individuals themselves.
 
Each photograph becomes a dynamic conversation, not just with the form captured by the lens, but with the person within. It's a visual exploration of the individual as a whole, vibrant sexual being, challenging and enriching our understanding of human sexuality, beyond the superficial.
 
There is a unique dynamic that occurs in erotic photography – a nuanced dance between observer and observed. Erotic photography invites contemplation on the nature of seeing and being seen and the transformative power it holds. At its core, this experience is a dialogue between the external gaze and the internal reality. It speaks to the human condition: our desire to be seen, understood, and accepted, not just by others but, crucially, by ourselves. 
 
The interplay of gaze—both the photographer's and the eventual viewer's—adds layers of meaning to the image. It's not just about seeing, but about understanding and interpreting. The subject is not a passive entity but an active participant in a shared narrative of self-expression.
 
This form of photography can be seen as a celebration of female agency, a reclaiming of the narrative surrounding the female body. It defies the traditional objectification and commodification, instead offering a space for empowerment and self-assertion. 
 
In the resulting images, the model's sexuality is presented not as an objectified concept but as an integral part of their being. These photographs are alive with the model's essence; there is a depth in their gaze, a story in their posture, a narrative woven into the very fabric of the image. The photos speak of the model's identity, desires, and personality capturing moments of genuine self-expression.
.

**Infinity In The Palm of Your Hand** | Femina Carnale No. 1

     
    “What is poetry?

To see a world in
a grain of sand

And heaven in a
wild flower,

Hold infinity in
the palm of your
hand

And eternity in an
hour.”

—William Blake
      
Blake captures what many consider to be the heart of poetry: the ability to find vastness and profundity in the small, the every day, or the fleeting. His work reflects a Romantic sensibility, emphasizing imagination, emotion, and a deep reverence for the natural world.

Blake suggests that poetry (and perhaps, by extension, art, photography, and human perception) has the power to expand our understanding of the universe and our place in it. He presents a vision where the minute contains the infinite, and brief moments hold eternal significance. This perspective encourages a deep, mindful engagement with the world, seeing beyond the superficial to the interconnectedness and mystery of existence.

Moreover, these lines exemplify the power of metaphor in poetry, a tool Blake uses masterfully. By likening the world to a grain of sand and eternity to an hour, he invites us to reimagine our scale of understanding and experience, proposing that the grandeur of the universe can be witnessed in the smallest of things and the briefest of moments.

As a photographer, I find myself deeply inspired by Blake's vision. In my work, each photograph is an endeavor to capture not just a moment, but the essence of a moment – much like holding a grain of sand that somehow contains an entire world. When I look through my lens, whether I'm shooting in the streets of Cuba, on the sands of the Sahara Desert, or in a studio, photographing nudes, I'm searching for that split second where emotion and environment converge to create something extraordinary. It's about more than just technique; it's about infusing the shot with heart and with a sense of connection to the subject. 

In photographing Nudes, this pursuit takes on an even deeper resonance. The goal is to create a photograph that does more than just document; it speaks, it feels. If done right, each photo becomes a microcosm, akin to Blake's grain of sand, where viewers can sense the breadth and depth of the story I'm trying to tell. It's this pursuit, this challenge of encapsulating the vast and the profound in a single frame, that drives my passion for photography.

Each body tells its own universe of stories - not just in the contours and lines but in the subtleties of posture and the nuances of expression. It's a delicate dance to capture not just the physical beauty, but the underlying emotions, the unspoken narratives that reside within each subject. My aim is to create images where the viewer can feel the pulse of the model's experiences, their joys, and desires.

This is where technique intertwines with empathy, where the camera becomes an extension of my vision and a bridge to the subject's personality. The final photograph should transcend mere depiction; it should be a revelation, an intimate glimpse into the complex world that each individual embodies. It's about capturing a moment so profoundly that it speaks of something eternal, turning the transient into the timeless.

This interplay between the temporary and the everlasting is at the heart of both poetry and photography. My ultimate goal is to have a successful image reflect something infinite – an emotion, a story, or a universal truth – much like holding infinity in the palm of your hand.

This speaks to the raw power and allure of capturing a moment of desire, of freezing an instant of erotic charge in time, which parallels the transgressive, intense experiences of sexual encounters, where time seems to stand still, and every touch, every glance holds layers of meaning and passion. This perspective invites an exploration of the human form not just as a subject of beauty but as a vessel of deep, complex, and often forbidden desires.

Both mediums, poetry and photography, use their respective tools (words and light, metaphor, and image) to explore and express the human experience. They invite the viewer or reader to look beyond the surface, to find the profound in the simple, and to appreciate the extraordinary in the ordinary. 

In visual art, this could be interpreted as the ability to encapsulate vast narratives, emotions, and experiences within a single frame or image. Through their craft, the artist holds the power to freeze a moment in time, offering viewers a glimpse into an eternal story or feeling. This is especially poignant in mediums like photography, where a fleeting moment is captured and preserved forever, allowing the viewer to experience a sense of infinity within a finite space.

In my successful shoots, the model, far from being a passive subject, embodies a living canvas where every curve, gaze, and gesture speaks volumes of their inner sexuality. This expression is not just skin-deep; it's an excavation of their deepest selves, a vulnerable and courageous display of their own erotic narrative. The photographer, in this intimate dance, assumes the role of both observer and participant, wielding the camera not just as a tool but as a conduit through which the model's unvoiced sexuality is brought to light.

The power of these kinds of images lies in their ability to evoke a response to resonate with the viewer on a visceral level. In capturing this essence, the photographer and model together create something that is both timeless and deeply personal, a visual ode to the complexity and richness of human eroticism.

And when it works, when that image is finally created, it's not just a photo or a painting anymore. It's a testament to the model's inner fire, a visual echo of their personal siren song. It's the kind of art that doesn't just hang on a wall; it lingers in the mind, leaving a trace of the model's essence long after you've looked away.

In essence, Blake's not just waxing poetic. He's kind of laying down the gauntlet for visual artists. It's like he's challenging them to dig deeper, see further, and capture something that's both of the moment and timeless..

**If We Bite Each Other the Pain Is Sweet** | Chiva No. 2

     
    "I touch your mouth. I touch the edge of your mouth with my finger. I am drawing it as if it were something my hand was sketching, as if for the first time your mouth opened a little, and all I have to do is close my eyes to erase it and start all over again, every time I can make the mouth I want appear, the mouth which my hand chooses and sketches on your face, and which by some chance that I do not seek to understand coincides exactly with your mouth which smiles beneath the one my hand is sketching on you.
 
You look at me, from close up you look at me, closer and closer and then we play cyclops, we look closer and closer at one another and our eyes get larger, they come closer, they merge into one and the two cyclopses look at each other, blending as they breathe, our mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tongues on their teeth, playing in corners where a heavy air comes and goes with an old perfume and a silence. Then my hands go to sink into your hair, to cherish slowly the depth of your hair while we kiss as if our mouths were filled with flowers or with fish, with lively movements and dark fragrance. And if we bite each other the pain is sweet, and if we smother each other in a brief and terrible sucking in together of our breaths, that momentary death is beautiful. And there is but one saliva and one flavor of ripe fruit, and I feel you tremble against me like a moon on the water."

—Julio Cortázar, Rayuela (Hopscotch), 1963

Who hasn't played the game of touching forehands and watching two eyes blend into one? It's a metaphor so obvious it cannot go without mentioning. Just as a cyclops perceives the world through one all-encompassing eye, a camera lens captures the world in a singular, unvaried frame, distilling complex realities into singular moments of clarity.

There is always a balance – a metaphorical push/pull between the photographer and subject in any portrait. What emotion does the photographer want to elicit? What is the model willing to give? Will she go beyond her traditional "here is my face/body" and let you inside to see something deep and personal? Push. Pull. I never tell a model what to do during a shoot: "Smile," "Look happy," "Look sad," "Look sexy," but for this project, the women I work with are aware that I am after the essence of their own personal (as opposed to model) personalities. I want to see the flash of energy of desire within them. Desire for what, you may ask? That hardly matters. For their boyfriend. For their girlfriend. For their boyfriend and girlfriend. For sex. For pleasure. For life.

In the evocative dance of desire, the act of biting, a primal assertion of power, becomes a sweet, shared agony, symbolizing the depth of trust and the intensity of the connection that defines the very essence of lust and desire. Cortázar's text pulsates with an eroticism that transcends the mere physical, delving into the realm of the aesthetic, much like the lens of a camera capturing the raw beauty of the human form. The act of sketching a mouth with a finger, the cyclopean gaze, these are not just acts of physical intimacy but are akin to an artist capturing the essence of desire, framing it within the context of human beauty and sensuality. This is where the erotic meets the aesthetic, where every touch, every glance is an exploration of form and desire, capturing the transient beauty of human connection. 

It has been my experience that often I have (and still do) use the camera as a bridge for human connection. I was quite shy in the early part of my life, and the camera provided an easy mechanism to connect with other people. 

Cortázar's words also speak to portrait photography at its most intimate and thus challenge the notion of individuality, proposing that in moments of intense intimacy, individuals can transcend their isolated selves, experiencing a momentary merging that hints at a deeper, more profound connection. It speaks to the human condition, our eternal quest for meaning and connection in a world where such experiences are fleeting yet deeply sought after. 

In the visceral themes of love and sensuality, as vividly depicted in Cortázar's prose, the synergy between photographer and model is crucial. This partnership, akin to the intimate connection Cortázar describes, is not merely about capturing physical allure; it is an exploration and manifestation of the deeper, often unspoken layers of sexuality and emotion. 

This process mirrors the cyclopean gaze Cortázar illustrates – an intense, shared focus that blurs the line between the seer and the seen, creating a single, unified vision. Navigating from the shared, cyclopean vision to the personal journey of creation, it becomes clear that this process of co-creation with my subjects is intrinsically linked to my own artistic ethos. I am reminded of my own guiding principle: "Photograph what you love, if you want someone to love what you photograph." This mantra resonates deeply with the process of co-creation in my work, highlighting how my connection with the subject is pivotal not only in creating compelling images but also in imbuing my own life and art with authenticity and meaning.

     
    “If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

—Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet’s first kiss

When I photograph, the process is akin to an artist feverishly sketching in a notebook, each frame a rapid, exploratory stroke. I'm constantly searching for the unspoken gesture, for that 'unworthiest hand' moment, that moment that emotionally pushes an image to embody a profound truth and capture the raw essence of the subject.

Building on this approach, I've noticed how it significantly influences the model's experience and expression during the shoot. This continuous, fluid method of photography creates an environment where the model feels at ease, allowing her to move naturally and freely from one pose to another. Instead of capturing a series of static, staged moments, this process becomes a dynamic dance, a rhythmic flow of spontaneous expression and unscripted movement. The model, liberated from the pressure of 'freezing' for the perfect shot, finds a comfortable rhythm, and it's in this relaxed state that the true magic happens. The poses become more authentic, the expressions more genuine. There's an organic evolution in the shoot, where each click of the shutter captures a candid, liberated moment, rich in natural sensuality. 

In these moments of unguarded authenticity, the distinction between the model and the person dissolves, allowing a glimpse beyond the model's professional facade, revealing a sense of her inner life and the essence of her individuality. This method not only enriches the photographic outcome with images alive with emotion and grace but also transforms the experience for the model, making it an empowering and liberating journey of self-expression.

Minor changes to gesture, look, or pose, each variation seemingly inconsequential at first glance, actually harbor a profound depth of emotion and story, illustrating the significant impact these minute details have in unveiling the complex layers of the subject. The way a model's hand might rest gently against her skin, the delicate splay of fingers, the slight tilt of the head, the almost imperceptible lowering of an eyelid, or the faintest arch of a brow can dramatically alter the narrative and emotional depth of a photograph. The power of an image often resides in the smallest of gestures, and these elements are the unsung heroes of visual storytelling.

When all the elements come together to make a successful image, the camera becomes a conduit for a story untold, capturing a depth of emotion that is both intensely personal yet universally relatable. These moments are where art and authenticity intersect, breaking through the superficial to unveil deeper, more intimate layers of inner life.

These moments reveal the essence of erotic photography, where the human form is not just seen but felt, where desire is not just portrayed but experienced. It's a celebration of the human form and its capacity to evoke deep, primal emotions, capturing the fleeting moments of connection that define our most intimate experiences. In this, there lies a testament to the power of imagery, both in words and in photographs, to capture the essence of human desire.

As a photographer, the challenge lies in creating a space where the model feels empowered to unveil aspects of their sexuality, often kept private or unexplored. This process is a dance of trust and intuition, a collaboration that goes beyond the surface, aiming to capture the essence of the model's true self. This artistry of nuance is a journey of discovery, both for the photographer and the subject. In the silent language of body language, a narrative unfolds – one that is deeply personal yet universally resonant. The hand, in its grace and poise, can speak of a vulnerability that words fail to capture. It can express a boldness, a tenderness, or a wild abandon, all within the confines of a single frame.

     
    “The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenalin but is, rather, the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.”

—Glenn Gould 

Glenn Gould's perspective on art challenges the conventional understanding of its impact, proposing a more profound and enduring purpose beyond the immediate thrill or emotional surge often associated with artistic experiences. According to Gould, art's true essence lies in its capacity to foster a sustained state of wonder and serenity in the individual. This viewpoint underscores the transformative power of art over time.

This interpretation suggests that art should not be merely consumed for transient pleasure or excitement. Instead, it invites an engagement that is both reflective and cumulative, implying that the value of art accrues through continuous interaction and contemplation. Gould's statement illuminates the idea that art serves as a foundational element in the human experience, one that enriches the soul and elevates the spirit through a gradual and persistent process.

The mention of "a momentary ejection of adrenalin" contrasts sharply with the "gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity," highlighting a shift from seeking instantaneous gratification to embracing a journey of personal growth and enlightenment. In this light, art becomes a vehicle for exploration and discovery, a means through which individuals can navigate the complexities of existence, cultivate a deeper appreciation for the world around them, and ultimately achieve a more enlightened state of being.

Gould's reflection on art's purpose resonates with the philosophical notion that true fulfillment and understanding are the results of a deliberate and sustained endeavor. It champions art as a profound force for personal and societal transformation, advocating for a relationship with art that is as much about cultivating inner peace and wisdom as it is about appreciating beauty and expression.

I resonate deeply with the idea of art creating meaning and a deeper appreciation of the world around me. In fact, if someone were to ask me who I am, one of the top three or four self-definitional labels I would apply to myself is artist/photographer. So, obviously, this is a fundamental lens through which I view the world and my interactions within it.

Gould had a famously complex relationship with live performance. He retired from public performing at the age of 31 - his aversion to live concerts stemmed from several factors, including his preference for the control and perfection attainable in the recording studio, his disdain for the rituals and conventions of concert performances, and his desire for a more intimate, introspective engagement with music. He saw live performances as ephemeral, constrained by the temporal and physical conditions of the performance, and often subject to the distractions and imperfections that could detract from the purity of the musical experience.

Gould preferred the recording studio's environment, where he could meticulously craft a musical piece until it met his standards, ensuring that each note contributed to the overarching vision he had for the work. This approach allowed for a level of introspection and control that Gould believed was essential for reaching the profound state of wonder and serenity he deemed the ultimate purpose of art. The studio became his venue for creating art that could be revisited, contemplated, and appreciated on a deeper level over time, free from the constraints and pressures of live performance.

Glenn Gould's nuanced views on live performance and the recording process offer an intriguing parallel to the realm of fine art photography, especially in the context of portrait photos. Just as Gould found a deeper, more meaningful engagement with music through the meticulous control afforded by the recording studio, 

I seek a similar depth and control in the creation of these erotic portraits. This comparison illuminates the shared artistic pursuit of capturing and conveying the essence of the subject, whether a musical piece or a human character, in a manner that transcends the immediate and ephemeral. Using the controlled environment of a studio, where lighting, composition, and the subject's pose can be meticulously adjusted to capture the desired expression and mood, allows me to explore the depths of the subject's personality, crafting an image that aims to reveal their inner essence or tell a story, much like Gould aimed to convey the deeper emotional and intellectual narratives embedded within the music, hopefully inspiring a continuous and evolving dialogue with the artwork.

Where I may depart from Gould's philosophy is in two areas. Unlike him, in a studio where he is in complete control when I am shooting with a model, there is a delicate balance of a partnership where we are both working together to achieve one goal. In my shoots, there are also elements of planned chaos – the model flowing through poses and me trying to direct and capture emotions that Gould did not have in his studio work. However, his overriding ambition to ensure that each note (or image) contributed to the overarching vision for the work is identical. 

My second departure from him is his concept of eschewing a "momentary ejection of adrenalin," i.e., the live performance. There is a particular thrill of working with a collaborator (the model) to achieve a singular vision. I find it thrilling when you find the right partner. However, even though I can find nowhere he talks about it, I have to assume that, alone in the studio playing, he would feel that "momentary ejection of adrenalin" when he played well and got what his vision demanded of him. Similar to how any photographer feels, I think, when they pour through thousands of images and find one that fits into their ultimate vision.

The process of fine art photography mirrors Gould's approach to music in its pursuit of a timeless quality and an intimate connection with the audience. Both disciplines involve a deliberate, thoughtful engagement with the medium, where the artist's technical mastery and creative vision combine to create works that aspire to a higher emotional and aesthetic plane. In this way, fine art photography and Gould's approach to music share a common philosophical foundation, emphasizing art's power to evoke lasting wonder, provoke deep reflection, and offer profound insights into the human condition.

**You Must Have a Fantastic Camera** | Mayumi No. 1

     
    “A photographer went to a socialite party in New York.
As he entered the front door, the host said 'I love your pictures - 
they're wonderful; you must have a fantastic camera.'
He said nothing until dinner was finished, then:
'That was a wonderful dinner; you must have a terrific stove.”

—Sam Haskins

There's also the famous (likely apocryphal) story of one of the greatest writers and one of the greatest photographers meeting. The story goes that when Ernest Hemingway met Irving Penn, Hemingway said to Penn, "I love your photography; what camera do you use?" Penn, in return, said, "I love your novels. What typewriter do you use?"**

I think there's also a similar story out there highlighting the same concepts about a violin player, but you get the point. Does the right tool make the artist?

There is a common misconception about creative work: the belief that the quality of the output is primarily due to the tools used rather than the skill, creativity, and vision of the artist. The stories reflect a broader conversation in the arts about the importance of recognizing and valuing the human element in creative endeavors. These stories invite us to appreciate the artist's role in the creative process and to acknowledge that while good tools can enhance the creation, they are not a substitute for the skill and creativity of the artist.

Furthermore, this anecdote speaks to the often overlooked or underestimated aspect of artistry in fields perceived as being heavily dependent on technology or equipment. It serves as a reminder that creativity resides within the individual, and the tools are merely a means to bring this vision to life. The essence of creativity, therefore, is not found in the technical specifications of the equipment but in the mind and soul of the creator.

Now, what I am about to say will either highlight and support the above or completely contradict it. But I personally love learning and using new and interesting photographic equipment. Maybe all photographers are equipment nerds, in a way. Penn himself was an innovator, experimenting with various photographic techniques, including platinum palladium prints and used different camera systems. It took me more than a year to figure out the lens to use (a large format lens on a custom-made bellows to tilt the lens) for these portraits, and I was heavily influenced by Paolo Roversi's use of large format cameras and monotone backdrops and by Keith Carter's use of a tilt lens. So, there you go – equipment nerd I am. But even with the right equipment, you still gotta find the emotion - which Carter and Roversi absolutely did with great regularity.

**BTW, FWIW, Penn used various cameras throughout his career, including Rolleiflex, Deardorff V8, and Hasselblad, while Hemingway used typewriters like the Corona #3, Royal Arrow, Underwood, and Halda.

**At the Corner of Your Lips, as the Orbit of Your Hips** | Mayumi+Bri No. 1

     
    


    “High, higher than the sun
You shoot me from a gun
I need you to elevate me here
At the corner of your lips
As the orbit of your hips
Eclipse, you elevate my soul

I've lost all self-control
Been living like a mole
Now going down, excavation
I and I in the sky
You make me feel like I can fly
So high, elevation

A star lit up like a cigar
Strung out like a guitar
Maybe you could educate my mind
Explain all these controls
I can't sing but I've got soul
The goal is elevation

Love
Lift me up out of these blues
Won't you tell me something true?
I believe in you.”

Elevation. Song by U2
Elevation Lyrics as written by Dave Evans, Adam Clayton

It seems through my photography, I am always seeking the ephemeral, the ineffable. It's a journey through a landscape where the human form is not just flesh but a map of intimate tales, a terrain of personal experiences. Each photo a step towards capturing the intangible, the constant striving for a higher plane of expression. It's about the balance between control and spontaneity, the dance between the technical and the intuitive. 
 
It's not just about the positioning of the model in a physical space but about lifting the viewer's perception, inviting them into a world where the body speaks a language of its own, transcending the obvious, delving into the layers of meaning that lie beneath the skin. In this space, the body is not just a subject but a storyteller, each curve a narrative, each posture a poem. As photographers we have all had experience of shooting and knowing we got "that" image. It's about excavation, about uncovering the layers to reveal something true and authentic. It's about finding and capturing those moments that make us feel like we're flying - higher than the sun.
 
I've always believed that the greatest images, or at the very least my favorite images that I see from other photographers, not only represent a person or emotion but can elevate that emotion into universal resonance. Moments of joy, passion, or transcendence that seem to be lifted beyond their everyday existence.
 
Photography, for me, has always been an exploration of the human condition, a visual narrative that elevates the viewer's experience, inviting them into a world of heightened perception and emotion.
 
Art, in all its forms, has the power to elevate, transform, and connect us to something greater than ourselves. It's this pursuit of elevation that drives the fine art photographer, the quest to capture not just images but moments of pure, unadulterated emotion and beauty.

**Crush Me in Your Velvet Arms** | Jessa No. 1

     
    “Teach me to sin—
In love's forbidden ways,
For you can make all pаssiοn pure;
The magic lure of your sweet eyes
Each shape of sin makes virtue praise.

Teach me to sin—
Enѕlavе me to your wanton charms,
Crush me in your velvet arms
And make me, make me love you.

Make me fire your blood with new dеsіrе,
And make me kiss you—lip and limb,
Till sense reel and pulses swim.
Aye! even if you hate me,
Teach me to sin.”

—Alfred Bryan, Enthralled

"Enthralled,"" with its desperate plea for forbidden experience, unveils a truth echoed in all artistic yearning: the push towards breaking boundaries. Artists have always tested the limits of convention and explored shadowed crevices of the human experience, even at the risk of their craft consuming them.

This reckless passion, the willingness to be "crushed" and transformed in the fires of creation, is a familiar sensation. Art demands sacrifice, whether it's hours lost to obsessive work (anyone else ever dreamed in pixels after too much Lightroom work?), emotional exposure laid bare, or the criticism that often accompanies challenging ideas. It's a strange gamble to crave that which might also dismantle you.

Artists of all stripes chase transcendence through their chosen materials. They know it might demand too much that the yearning for "sin" - for experience outside the norms – is dangerous. To create work that truly resonates, one must understand both the allure and risk of peering too far into the abyss. In a way, art becomes a way to both succumb to and control the forces that threaten to devour us whole. We hope to emerge changed, with newfound truths to offer...as long as the cost doesn't obliterate us entirely.

Bryan's poem thrums with reckless desire, a yearning to experience something forbidden, perhaps life-altering. This desperate plea resonates with many artistic pursuits, particularly those that explore vulnerable areas of the human condition. The speaker's plea: "Teach me to sin..." speaks to a driving force behind much of artistic inquiry – the transgression of boundaries, a hunger for the uncharted and the taboo. This has certainly been true for several influential photographers known for their explorations of the nude form.

We see it in Man Ray's surrealist experiments, contorting bodies into objects while questioning conventional notions of beauty. It's echoed in the rawness of Robert Mapplethorpe, his images often starkly lit and provocative, exposing both power and vulnerability within the bodies he captured. You can also see it in Helmut Newton's powerful compositions, often exploring themes of dominance and desire. His images aren't simply about the female form but about power dynamics and the way we gaze upon one another. These photographers venture into emotionally charged territory, blurring lines between artistry, raw honesty, and perhaps even transgression.

The tension in the poem – the lure of beauty with an undercurrent of potential self-destruction – parallels the artistic journeys of these photographers. Each, in their distinct way, risked criticism and convention to seek a different expression of the human experience.

Just like the poem's speaker willingly offers themselves to transformation, many models embraced a collaborative role in these iconic images. Perhaps their trust lay in the shared belief that this unveiling carried artistic purpose. The risk comes not only in defying societal expectations but also in tapping into depths of emotion both creator and subject might not even fully understand. The very thing that elevates an image from mere documentation to art, that transcendent quality, could be the thing that teeters closest to unraveling those involved in the process.

There's an inherent power in a nude figure, the vulnerability and rawness laid bare before the camera. The way it evokes primal reactions – desire, certainly, but perhaps also a tinge of fear, a recognition of the fragile boundary between the physical body and the essence of a person it shelters. In nude photography, the tension between beauty and destruction is always present. Will the image be an honest collaboration, revealing something universal? Or will the power imbalance tip in a harmful direction, the vulnerable subject serving merely as a prop for the photographer's vision?

We photographers chase the transcendent, seek ways to express ideas like "passion" and "desire" not through words, but through the interplay of emotion, gesture, and form. When shooting nudes, I am always searching for a collaboration between me and the model, not simply imposing my view. This often leads to a place of shared vulnerability and heightened sensitivity. And sometimes, if we are lucky, something dangerous breaks free.

The poem's emphasis on forbidden love and transgression can be seen as a reflection of the way that nude photography has often been seen as taboo or controversial. The speaker's desire to be "crushed" and "enslaved" can be interpreted as a metaphor for the power dynamics that can be at play in nude photography, where the photographer is often in a position of power over the model.

This isn't unique to photography, yet there's a particular intimacy when photographing the nude. The removal of all societal coverings makes both the subject and artist acutely vulnerable. In that exposed state, there's the thrill of glimpsing something beyond the surface. Yet, a misstep can make this a destructive encounter instead of a creative union. The quote hints at that danger – the thin line between transcendent collaboration and a power dynamic that turns exploitative. I am acutely aware of this dynamic during my shoots – in the end, I hold the ultimate power as I am the one pushing the shutter button, and indeed, unless things go drastically wrong, I am not the naked one in front of the camera. To counterbalance this power dynamic that exists before the first photo is even taken, I endeavor to hand as much power back to the model as possible in the form of giving her the freedom to move and flow through the sessions without too much direction and also checking in frequently, by showing her what I am getting on the back of the camera, to make sure it is as truly a collaborative process as possible.

A good nude photograph transcends mere depiction. It holds a tension, a promise that echoes a very primal understanding between creator and subject. However, like all promises, this one has the potential to deceive. Can a photograph of this nature hold true beauty if the power balance is unequal? The question haunts the discipline. Are we honest explorers, celebrating form, or exploiters, extracting a certain magic without understanding its full implications?

Ultimately, the success of a fine art nude photograph lies not just in its technical execution but also in its ability to evoke complex emotions and challenge viewers to contemplate the multifaceted nature of beauty, desire, and the human experience. This work becomes a type of alchemy. We transmute the raw essence of a person into an artifact of sensuality. When images work, they become seared into memory, the transformation capturing that sliver of soul-fire that only exists in its most unguarded state.

**To Feel the Pulse of Life** | Mkay Blondie No. 2

     
    “These were not models or abstract women wandering into my studio room but women who I have known as people and as real. To me photographing the nudе is simply using my camera to sense and feel the pulse of life. I am interested in the photographing of women as people, not the photographing of women as stigma, or the photographing of women as flesh or smut or form or any number of essentially superficial aesthetic devices in which the photographer’s fragile ego tends to dabble.”

—Larry Fink

Fink's perspective is both enlightening and resonant – a statement that demonstrates a desire to transcend the superficial objectification of women so prevalent in photography. The nude is not just a subject; it's a conduit for the mining of the deepest and most powerful feelings, a litmus test for desire. The challenge lies in avoiding the pitfalls of objectification. It's about revealing something deeper–  the raw, vital core of the models' being, to tap into the very essence of their sexuality, not just her surface.

The goal is not to create hollow, idealized images but ones that radiate an authenticity and uninhibited power that originates from the model herself. This collaborative approach recognizes the model as an active participant with the potential to infuse the final image with a profound sense of self. In fine art nude photography, especially when it comes to women, there's a delicate balance between artistic expression and societal perception. Fink's approach to photographing women as individuals rather than as abstract concepts or mere forms is a crucial perspective. It's about seeing beyond the physical, understanding the person, and conveying their essence through the lens. This approach not only elevates the subject but also challenges the viewer to engage with the photograph on a deeper, more personal level.

It's a medium that demands a symbiotic relationship between the photographer and the subject, and at its best, it can be a celebration of the human form as a vessel of experience, emotion, and desire. The photographer's role is not just to capture an image but to create a space where the subject feels seen and free to express who they really are. The resultant photograph becomes a tableau of this intricate exchange. It's a journey of self-discovery, where the line between the erotic and the existential blurs, and the act of revealing becomes an act of empowerment.

The women I photograph are more than just bodies; they are carriers of memory, pain, pleasure, joy, ecstasy, and unspoken truths that connect us all. For me, the art of photographing the nude is an exploration of desire, a celebration of the eroticism that lies within the human form. It's about capturing the raw, unadulterated beauty that stirs the senses and ignites the imagination. Each image is a testament to the allure of the flesh, a provocative invitation to indulge in the forbidden. Each image is a meditation on the complexities of love and lust - visual poetry that speaks differently to everyone who views the images.

Considering the broader artistic process, Fink's quote highlights the importance of authenticity and intentionality. The act of creating art, particularly when it involves the portrayal of the human form, is a deeply personal and introspective journey. It's about connecting with the subject on a very personal level, understanding their story, and translating that into a visual narrative. This approach not only enriches the artistic process but also imbues the final product with a sense of integrity and depth. It's a reminder that art, at its core, is a prism that refracts the intimate layers of our existence.

**You Felt It Right |** Mkay Blondie+Allesandra Snow No. 1

     
    “What is important for a photographer is involvement. Photography is a way of shouting what you feel. It’s through deep contact with reality and living fully that you reach poetry in photography. It’s a way of saying, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” It’s like the last three words of Joyce’s “Ulysses,” And photography is like that. It’s yes, yes, yes. And there are no maybes. All the maybes should go to the trash, because it’s an instant, it’s a moment, it’s there! If I go to a place, it’s not to record what is going on only. It’s to try and have a picture which communicates a situation in one glance and I’m hoping always to get that one picture about which people will say, “Ah, this is true. You felt it right.”

—Henri Cartier Bresson

Photographing the human form, especially the nude, unveils a peculiar paradox - the Paradox of Truth. We crave images that reveal a more profound 'truth' of being, yet the camera inherently captures surfaces. The artistry arises from intentionality – both photographer and model seeking to strip away pretense, creating space for unmasked presence to emerge within a carefully constructed image. Like philosophers seeking truths beyond appearances, we pursue the intangible, wrestling it into the tangible realm of a single photograph.
 
As a photographer, Bresson's focus on "yes" echoes my creative philosophy of photography, whether it's the streets of Havana, the plains of the Serengeti, or in a studio photographing the nude. It's about emphasizing directness, intention, and clarity of vision. There's no hedging, no hiding behind technique or concept. The work becomes a confrontation instead of an exploration. The image either captures the truth of the form, the emotion of the moment... or it doesn't. It's not about beauty in a conventional sense; it's about revealing the subject's core and rawness in a single image.
 
Bresson's emphasis on affirmation feels particularly potent when applied to photographing nudes. For me, the "yes" is multi-layered. There's my "yes" as the artist finding the moment of truth. It's also about the model's "yes," her choice to be exposed and revealed through my lens. And ultimately, I hope the image evokes a "yes" in the viewer – an acknowledgment of an authentic portrayal, beyond simple notions of beauty or titillation. His idea of a captured moment – the definitive image of a situation – seems in perfect alignment with the fluidity of working with a nude model. Her body is not a static landscape; there's an inherent sense of movement, energy, and evolving emotion. My task becomes finding the fleeting gestures, the subtle tensions that contain and define the whole. It's not about freezing in time but capturing the essence of a human presence.
 
Cartier-Bresson's fervent "yes" resonates deeply when capturing a model's raw sexuality in a photograph. It transcends the realm of personality, the playful smile, or the captivating gaze. This "yes" is a shared commitment between photographer and model, a pursuit of a singular image that speaks volumes beyond physical form. It's a delicate dance – the photographer guiding and composing but ultimately seeking a spark of authenticity from the model. The "yes" becomes a shared recognition, a single breath held where the model sheds self-consciousness to reveal a deeper sensuality, her eyes alight with a presence that transcends the camera's gaze. The resulting image isn't a mere document; it's a co-created expression, a fleeting glimpse into the essence of who that person is when truly seen and truly expressed.
 
Photography of this kind is about involvement — feeling deeply, not just coldly recording. To photograph nude models, you must be present, not merely an observer. It's about immediacy. I may meticulously plan lighting and composition, but the heart of the image — the essence — comes from an intuitive reaction to the subject. It's a leap of faith that something true will appear, and my job is to recognize it before the moment vanishes.
 
The female nude in art has a long, complex history and true artistry in this realm transcends objectification, becoming a collaboration. It's about a fleeting moment of connection – a shared vulnerability allowing the essence of the woman to shine through. Capturing this isn't about technique or concept, it's an intuitive response, like catching a firefly's glow in cupped hands. A momentary ephemeral connection made concrete.

**To Possess That Which Between Them Lies** | Mkay Blondie No. 3

     
    “In this vain fleeting universe, a man
Of wisdom has two courses: first, he can
Direct his time to pray, to save his soul,
And wallow in religion’s nectar-bowl;

But, if he cannot, it is surely best
To touch and hold a lovely woman’s brеаst,
And to caress her warm round hips, and thighs,
And to possess that which between them lies.”

—Bhartrhari, Translated by John Brough

This frank acknowledgment of our corporeal yearnings feels remarkably modern and devoid of prudish judgment. Bhartrhari doesn't condemn the sensual embrace as sinful, but elevates it as a legitimate source of wisdom and fulfillment, on par with religious devotion. In doing so, he celebrates the beauty and richness of the flesh without diminishing the sanctity of the soul.

There's a defiant irreverence in his stance that challenges the false piety that demands we deny our natural impulses, instead arguing for a wholehearted embrace of our humanness in all its messy, carnal glory. Bhartrhari's words are a reminder to fully inhabit our existence – to drink deeply from the well of spiritual sustenance, but also to relish in the intoxicating pleasures of the body. It's a rallying cry for a life lived without regret or repression, fueled by the courage to unapologetically pursue our truest callings, be they divine or carnal.

I'm drawn to the nuanced interplay between the ethereal and the corporeal using the language of gesture and glance. When endeavoring to capture the authentic expression of a model's sexuality, it is all about letting her personality shine through and recognizing and capturing that moment when it happens - akin to catching smoke with bare hands; it's an elusive quest for the essence that flickers within. When I do, it imbues the photograph with an unseen weight, a presence that lingers well after the shutter closes (metaphorically speaking, of course, as electronic shutters don't actually "close" – how unromantic of them).

So, my process during a shoot isn't about direction, really. It's more akin to setting a stage, cultivating an atmosphere - the right light, a bit of music (as long as it's not country), just enough space for a woman to unfold. It's in those in-between moments, when a guard drops, that you can start to glimpse it. Maybe it's a slow burn in the way she gazes back, a subtle curve of her back that no amount of coaching could replicate.

I give a framework, and then comes the collaboration: a shared unspoken understanding. She offers herself in a way that transcends mere modeling, and in turn, I become a witness to something genuine, something that would otherwise be obscured. Because when it works, when it aligns, it's electric. When that spark peeks through – a photograph stops being an echo of reality. It becomes an artifact in its own right; a glimpse of a woman's inner fire, not simply a record of her outward appearance. Saturated with that inexplicable essence, the photo can become something beyond mere representation. It feels like the theft of a secret, a brief glimpse into the heart of that eternal feminine - the resulting images resonating as profound expressions of the inherent intensity of Eros herself.

     
    “But… how can you say she was being objectified if she agreed to do the photo shoot?” my friend asked. I’d just expressed my distaste with a nudе yoga photo shoot I’d seen on the internet. It’s a good question. The photo shoot is by a prolific yoga photographer. The Girl is nаkеd on some desert rocks, interspersed with quotations about freedom—the photos didn’t make me feel free. My friend wanted to know why it was considered bad to look at еrοtic images. Does a feminist perspective on yoga mean we should all cover up? Isn’t that oppressive of women, too?

Yes, it definitely is and my problem isn’t her nudіty. There has been a lot of buzz on in the blogosphere about the objectification of women. Still, images like these tend to get either uncritical gushing responses about beauty or mean-spirited judgments of the person being pictured. One of the most important lessons about yoga is ahimsa (non-violence) and personal attacks and objectification are both forms of violence. My feeling is that our community is not necessarily equipped with the kinds of tools we need for critical thinking about the images we are increasingly bombarded with.

To answer my friend’s question, whether or not The Girl agreed to be in the shoot has nothing to do with whether or not the work is sеxual objectification: we don’t know, for example, what kind of relationship this woman had with the photographer, or how much she was getting paid, or whether she was gushy or outraged when she saw the final product. Similarly, the photographer may have created something sеxually objectifying without any intention to do so. Perhaps he was simply working with techniques he knows work without considering why they work. Ѕexually objectifying images are a symptom of a culture that tells women they are wanted for the uses of their bodies, and that sеx sells. We buy it on deep, subconscious internal levels, and we do it to ourselves.

Objectification is dangerous specifically because it is so deeply subconscious. Philosopher Martha Nussbaum has said that objectification “includes denial of autonomy, denial of subjectivity. Not taking people’s feelings into account, but also treating them as a mere instrument.” The object has no agency or ability, can be owned, destroyed, or damaged with no moral concern. She adds, “The Internet opens that up in a big way because it is a relatively autonomous world in which someone who portrays a woman in a certain light, can create a whole story about her that is relatively immune to any kind of correction because it goes everywhere, it lasts forever, and then it can spill back and have real effects in the real world.” The good news is that once we understand how to objectify someone, we can conversely learn how to subjectify them. We don’t need women to cover up, necessarily. What we need is to subjectify them.

So what’s a subject, anyway?

In the context of a book, movie, or image, the subject is the being that acts, the main character. It’s essentially you: the one you can relate to and align with. An object is the thing acted upon. In a grammatical sentence, the subject is the doer: “Julie got so upset she threw her laptop out the window.” Who do you feel with here? Julie (subject), or the laptop (object)? The subject position, interestingly, can switch dramatically, depending on how something is framed and described, we can quickly change what/who we are relating to: “The laptop screamed as it fell to its death off the balcony.” Do you feel now for the laptop or the balcony?

Learning these five techniques for either objectifying or subjectifying can help us identify them in other kinds of media so that we can become as mindful and critical of the media we consume.

1. Faces: Faces are incredibly important to humans, and we have a whole separate brain region for facial recognition. We relate quickly to something that has a face. A quick way to give subjectivity to a pet rock is to paint two dots and a curved line on it. Showing the face is subjectifying.

2. Pieces: Cutting things into pieces is also something we do with meat. The less it looks like the whole animal, the easier it is to eat. A classic hallmark of objectification is showing just a butt or boob so you don’t have a sense of its belonging to a person/subject.

3. Visual distance: Seeing someone through a mirror or window reduces their subjectivity because we are put in the position of this side of the mirror or window, while the object is on the other side. We become the voyeur. If there’s a distinct impression that the camera is attempting to “capture” this woman without her knowing (she is looking away, she doesn’t appear to be choosing what to show us) that is an Objectifying technique. Our subject positions are separated: She is over there, we are over here, behind the camera, which separates us. But if it appears but we are always on the same side of a window or mirror - the woman knows we are there and chooses to be there. We are in the room with her.

4. Personality and Context: A telltale sign of subjectivity is if we can learn anything about the being’s subjective self. Who is this woman? What does she like or dislike? A Subjectifying technique is seeing the woman showing emotion. Ѕexual or otherwise. Almost impossible to do if we don't see much of her face.

5. Agency and ability: One of the telltale signs of objectification according to Nussbaum, is that the object has no agency or ability. She appears powerless. A Subjectifying technique: is when the model looks into the camera, and we get the feeling we have been invited into her space, a space she has agency over. She is choosing to show us what she wants to show us. She has agency and ability.

These five telltale signs can take subjectification and objectification out of the subconscious arena and into the mindful, conscious brain. Understanding how they work and how powerful they can be helps us name objectification and celebrate subjectification.

Ѕex and nudіty themselves are not the problem. Ѕex can bring us closer together, too, when it’s subjectifying. Knowing how these techniques work means we can empower ourselves to choose more often to represent women less as objects and more…well, like subjects.”

—Subjectify Me: 5 Ways to Tell if an Image is Objectifying by Julie Peters (MA, E-RYT, YACEP) Author of Secrets of the Eternal Moon Phase Goddesses: Meditations on Dеsіrе, Relationships, and the Art of Being Broken. Edited for length & clarity.

I love it when I find an article, years after I start a project, that supports and sharpens my concepts in a vastly more articulate way than I could have ever done.

For me, photographing nudes is a deeply collaborative process. The distinction between subjectivity and objectivity in an image hinges on the perspective of the only person whose opinion matters in the end—that of the model. This fundamental truth guides my entire creative process, shaping how I approach each collaboration and the intentionality behind every artistic decision.

When a model looks at an image and says, "That is a great photo," it suggests an appreciation of the technical and aesthetic aspects of the picture. However, if she says, "That is me," it signifies a more profound connection, indicating that the image captures her essence, personality, and sexuality. Now that I write that, and considering the subject matter of these portraits, I feel there is even one person much more critical to this perspective than that of the model. And that is of the model's lover. If her lover looks at the photo and says first, "That is her!" over "That is a great photo of her," then that is truly my aim in this project.

This difference between subjectivity and objectivity is crucial in my work. A photograph that is merely "great" might be technically perfect and visually stunning, but if it doesn't resonate with the model's sense of self, it falls short of my target for the shoot. When I achieve that, it means that I've managed to create a space where the model feels seen and understood, her individuality is celebrated, and the photograph becomes an extension of her sexuality.

In this way, the model's feedback is a guiding light in my artistic process. It helps me navigate the fine line between creating a visually pleasing image and crafting a portrait that honors the model's sexuality and erotism. This feedback loop is essential, as it ensures that the final product is not just a reflection of my vision as a photographer but also a true representation of the model's inner passion. The model's affirmation, "That is me" (or her lovers' "that is her"), is the crescendo, the moment when art and authenticity merge, crafting a legacy that celebrates the unfiltered power of being truly seen.