Last week’s Jack’s Smack, for those who missed it, was one of my more courageous essays. I exposed myself – literally.
Posing nude weeks before my 59th birthday and sharing it with you all was brave. And I’d hoped, from the outside world’s perspective, that it appeared empowering, and smooth, going off without a hitch.
Well of course it didn’t.
This week’s Jack’s Smack is high on the cringe-with-embarrassment front. This is a tale of how oftentimes when I move super fast, I make mistakes. Sometimes these mistakes go unnoticed. Sometimes these mistakes exact a high price. And sometimes they just make me laugh as I run around working to unscramble them.
“This is a whole dozen-egg, drop-on-the-floor oops.”
This is a whole dozen-egg, drop-on-the-floor oops.
The Catalyst For Dropping My Knickers:
The impetus for me to pose nude this time was a painter friend of mine, Annie. Years ago, Annie embarked on a series of paintings highlighting the beauty of the female form — in particular the mature female form. I fell in love with her collection and even though at the time I was “young-ish” for her project (I was in my mid-40s), I desperately wanted her to paint me. She agreed. And then, I dropped the ball.
So for the last 15 years or so – every now and again – we’d bring up this theoretical oil nude painting of me. And summarily I would forget to take the next step – to actually take the photos for her to paint from.
I don’t care how brave I think I am, the idea of actually taking off all my clothes and posing for a camera lens – not to mention the fully clothed person behind it -– was paralyzing. The other side of that coin, the precipice of 59, hit me. What was I waiting for? I literally am not getting any younger. Every day that I didn’t take the pictures opened up the possibilities for more saggy skin and wrinkles in the final product. Unless of course, I was just never going to follow through.
Predictably the notion of being a coward and choosing to pass on this life experience drove me to action. As they say, the naked truth eventually catches up with you. Nothing triggers me faster into action than the potential of being perceived as a scaredy cat — even if I am the only one in the know.
About a month ago Annie’s daughter – who happens to be a close friend – requested my camera skills for a project of hers. In an instant, I knew what opportunity this presented. I agreed to help her and asked if she’d be willing to stand behind the lens for me as well. She agreed. So after indulging in a couple of glasses of wine, I summoned the courage to embark on this artistic adventure. In my slightly inebriated state, I felt like a fearless explorer, ready to uncover new frontiers of self-expression. My courage grew with each passing pose and photo.
The Texting Faux Pas Of The Century:
“I failed to double-check the recipient of that potentially life-altering text.”
Filled with excitement and not wanting to chicken out, I grabbed my phone and quickly sent off the fruits of my daring escapade to Annie. But there was one small, teeny-tiny, minuscule oversight on my part: I failed to double-check the recipient of that potentially life-altering text. And thus, the dominoes of my misfortune began to fall.
Hours passed then days, and there was no response from Annie. Strange, considering how eagerly she had awaited my submission to her artistic whims. I finally asked her daughter about it and she responded that her mother never got the images. Ruh-oh. So who did?
I frantically grabbed my phone to check the contact information to the Annie who now possessed many nude images of me. I opened the thread and quickly realized from previous messages that these blush-inducing photographs had inadvertently been sent to a romantic interest of a friend who happened to also be named Annie. Instantly, I froze. Panic set in as I realized my unadorned canvas had landed in a stranger’s lap.
I do not have a direct relationship with this person, one may wonder why her contact information was in my phone – for the life of me I can’t recall. I felt odd reaching out directly to her since we really don’t know one another well so I decided to ask our mutual contact for help. Maybe not the best choice, but there you have it. Awkward much?
The Exchange Went Ws Well Ws Expected:
ME: I have a weird request… are you still friends/ in communication with Annie – the woman we had dinner with way back when?? if so, I need a favor from you….
HIM: Sure what’s up?
ME: I accidentally texted her a bunch of nude photos of me – thinking I was sending them to someone else who is going to paint one of them. Color me embarrassed. Can you ask her to delete them for me?
HIM: Wow things that bad with your partner? And only if I can get to see fotos. Hehe
ME: Did u write her?
HIM: Sure I’ll reach out to her…u mortified bimbo!
“The whole experience left me in awe of the unpredictable nature of life.”
Fortunately, the errant Annie recognized the blunder and promptly deleted the photos. I could have avoided that awkward, embarrassing, give-your-friend-an-opportunity-to-tease-you moment. Sigh. Crisis averted.
The whole experience left me in awe of the unpredictable nature of life. It’s like standing on a tightrope, teetering between vulnerability and bravery, hoping not to slip into a metaphorical pile of embarrassment. But hey, as they say, fortune favors the bold – even if their fingers fumble on the keyboard.
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