Mirrors is a reflection of my fellow naturists’ bare skin, physically, but also of their insecurities, mentally. I documented the naturists by placing literal mirrors in front of my subject, in hopes that the mirrors would act as a pair of eyes, shed light on the inner self, and finally, shatter the surface.
During the process, I became a sort of mirror. I was perceiving and judging, accepting and rejecting, as a mirror lends itself to do. Purposely placed out of view, the mirrors were both a practical piece of equipment, like a light source on the subject, and a metaphor for how others would see my subjects in this new light.
Real skin, real love and real uncomfortableness, the latter vanishing between me and my subjects through a silent conversation of acceptance communicated mostly through eye contact. This is unsettling at first because I’m not used to so much of it. If I know myself and may take the liberty of speaking for others, we can barely stand to cross the street and pay attention to traffic signs or grab a drink with a friend without flashing our phones in our faces. In regular life, we should like to tell ourselves that we share so much. And yet, we bare so little. READ MORE.
Cheryl and Al, Leon, Jacquie, David, Lance, Philippa, Tony, Shelley, Teresa, Tom, Stéphane. Bare Oaks Naturist Community, 2017.
