I’ve been wanting to properly introduce Blogging in the Buff since I started it, but my thoughts have been a bit scattered lately; being nude for no reason still feels a bit surreal. Fortunately for me, the idea sort of introduced itself in my earlier letters. I’ve taken excerpts from two letters just prior to my nude blogging project in the hopes that allowing you to peek into my brain will adequately set the stage for my week of nudity. And so, without further ado…
I remember, when I first started writing my memoir through Father Phoenix Mother Wolf, I would often talk to people about how I felt like I was pregnant with the story. I could picture the book (not a blog yet) in my mind, fully formed, feel it moving inside me, and there was a very strong sense of not being able to stop once I started. I almost felt as though I were being moved by a powerful and steady force, one that would keep going even if I stopped, and if I did stop, it would run me over without a fuss, so much larger than me it seemed to be, and calmly indifferent to whether I moved with it or not.
Just like trying to cross my legs to keep a child in when she’s ready to be born, the words were coming; it’s a slow, steady, crushing death to fight against the flow.
When I finally did start writing, the strangest thing happened. My friend and first love John, whom I speak to occasionally on Facebook, started chatting with me. He and I hadn’t spoken in probably 6 months or more, but as soon as I started writing about him, he popped up. [Incidentally, John disappeared as soon as I moved on with the story.]
This sort of odd mirroring effect has been going on since I published my first post. On the days that I was writing about a particular victory, amazing things would happen the day before to give me a feeling of victory. When it came time to grieve, something would happen to make me sad or worried or fearful. I’m moving into the part of the story where I write about my descent into food addiction and deep depression that lasts so long I forget what it felt like to laugh. I will admit that I’m a bit worried about what the mirrors will show me; this is not a short section. [From The Mirror Effect, Oct 15]
I have been a little less productive, which is fine, I guess, but I was more productive last week. Mirror effect again? Maybe. But what if I can change the mirror?
Oh… there’s a thought. One that tantalizingly involves time travel and mending the past.
Instead of letting the mirror effect just happen, maybe what’s going on is that I’m opening a portal with which to step through my present — into the past — and begin healing it. Wow, I wonder what sort of out-of-this-world things will start happening when I experiment with “linear” time?
…and now I’d better get dressed and hop into the shower. I’ve written this entire letter in the nude, waiting for the water to warm.
You’re welcome for the vivid visual. [From Experimenting With Time Travel, Oct 17]
And that’s how the idea to blog naked worked its way from my (infinitely wiser) subconscious mind into my (still evolving) spastic brain. I have hopes that the healing I’ve experienced is contagious and that time travel really is possible.