
God didn’t really want me to write this post. How do I know this? Well, my computer is old and quirky (sorta like me) and it constantly spits up and farts when it is most inconvenient. I had half of this post already written when it decided to release some toxic venom. By its own volition it suddenly highlighted and erased the whole post except for the title and a random letter “r”. And WordPress automatically and supposedly helpfully did its little “save the changes immediately” thing. The whole post was gone in a flash.
Why did God do this? Well, this isn’t really a “How to Draw Nude Figures” post as it may at first appear. It is, in fact another in a series of “Why I Am An Artist And Not A Pervert” posts that attempt to justify why a potential “dirty old man” like me spends so much time drawing pictures of naked girls.

My latest art project is a picture of Brekka, the Telleron tadpole, completely nude.
I am currently drawing the illustration above for my novel Stardusters and Space Lizards. It shows the scene where Brekka, admittedly a female, although not a human female, has just been accidentally swallowed and then regurgitated by Lester, her friend who is a man-eating plant from an alien solar system. So excuse number one would have to be, “She’s naked because it fits the story.” I will stand by that one for matters of illustration. And you will note, there isn’t anything even remotely sexual about the situation… er, I think I would rather not be subjected to Freudian analysis on that one.
Here are three previously posted nude drawings that I used for previous attempts to corrupt the minds of readers and viewers. I got a lot of views for these posts, and may at least partially benefit from using the “naked” and “nude” tags on those posts. Illegitimate excuse number two, then is, “drawing and posting nudes increases the number of people who pay attention to my work.” My most popular blog post this year has been Be Naked More in which I rationalize my interest in naturism and walking around naked, even though I am certainly far from brave enough to do so in public.

And I further claim that it is not a sexual thing to draw someone naked. One of the fundamental truths about art is that every person I draw or paint or write about in a novel is really me. The only person who stands revealed by the work of art is me, and it is a portrait of what is inside my head. Of the five nudes in this post, only one of them was not drawn from a real life model. (And no, I am not counting the butterfly, or the Gryphon, or Lester as nudes… so stop thinking I’m just playing word games.) (Lester isn’t even a real thing… man-eating plants don’t exist… so stop it!) But none of the subjects were ever uncomfortable about posing for me. Of course now that I have suggested that lame excuse number three is, “All nudes are really me.” I probably have you thinking about the real meaning of the title of this post. I have psoriasis, I do tend to feel more comfortable with no clothes on, and do tend to write and draw when I am sitting on my sickbed naked. But I am wearing clothes at the moment. Considering the content of this post, anything else would just be creepy. So, stop trying to picture me all hairy, fat, scabby and nude. After all, you chose to look at and read this thing. Maybe I’m not the one who needs to explain why I am an artist and not a pervert.



























Trudging Towards Tomorrow
My three kids used to be cute, even with goblin grins.
I spent a lot of time yesterday looking at old photos. The journey seems a lot longer looking back than looking at the trail ahead. But there are good things beside every signpost on the road behind us. I am proud of where we’ve been.
The Three Faces of the Princess at the Kingdom Hall;
We are basically right with God. Oh, I know I haven’t been a very good Jehovah’s Witness the last three or four years. Being an atheist might have something to do with it. But I actually believe in God. It is just that my God is a bit bigger than theirs. My God is not some old man with a white beard on a golden chair in some invisible dimension. He is everything there is. And he doesn’t have to promise me eternal life and goodies for a lifetime of doing what I believe is good and right and benefits the lives of others. I don’t do it for theological dog treats. I do it because I know in my heart it is right. And I live for the here and now. Because that is the only part of existence that is relevant to me here and now. “I am a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars, I have a right to be here.” (from Desiderata by Max Ehrmann)
We used to do a lot of camping and traveling. We have seen some amazing things in amazing places.
The Grand Canyon is improved by having my middle son posed in front of it.
At the Grand Canyon Railway Station;
In a land where dinosaurs once roamed;
You can find dinosaurs for tourists without spending big bucks to visit Jurassic World.
Don’t worry. The Princess is the scariest dino running with this pack. That goofasaurus rex is going to regret that nose-bump to the back of the head.
In the end, she ate every last one.
But my kiddos hatched a replacement, so they are not personally responsible for the re-extinction of the dinosaurs.
Appreciating nature;
Posing with dead nature.
Posing with living nature, including wild and feral cousins, is also fun.
Filipino nature and wild and feral Filipino cousins.
And we have allowed ourselves to have fun along the way.
But children grow up and begin to have their own lives. They get jobs. They learn to drive. And we have to fearfully accept the consequences of the monsters we have probably created.
As I continue trudging down the road of life, I am somewhat weary because I am old. My bones have a lot of walking-around mileage on them. My heart has a limited number of beats remaining. But my biggest regret is… you can only go back and walk the path again through memory and old pictures. Time and I march onward.
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Filed under autobiography, commentary, compassion, daughters, family, feeling sorry for myself, goofiness, humor, kids, photos
Tagged as adventure, boring old family photos, Doofy takes on old photos, humor, kids, nature