We change. We grow. We learn and we forget. In the relentless cadence of time, something endures - a presence that we unmistakably recognize as the self. Fibers of spirit and matter twist into a singular axis of existence. It begins in the body. In that of another. In that of a woman.
From this intimate grounding we encounter the world. The earliest image of it - and of ourselves - is stripped of all veils, all garments, all masks. It is the nude. Naturally and unavoidably, this is the opening chapter of life and knowledge. With age and under the weight of societal norms, we become masters in concealing it. The body - particularly the nude and, even more so, the female one - rests beneath a rich canopy of interpretations.
