Tuesday, 21 July 2015

The most vivid and moving dreams

Apparently we all dream and dream every night, it's just that most of us don't remember what we dreamt. I used to have many, varied and often fantastical dreams, the type that only Tim Burton could ever hope to recreate. These days I seldomly remember dreams. I think my mind is tied up in work and personal practicalities and dreaming, particularly if to be remembered, simply takes space and capacity that isn't there anymore.

So, the fact I had such a vivid dream last week and can still, a week later, recall parts of the scenery and story is noteworthy to say the least. The summary is that I was attending a close friends party - the friend was a real life person who resembled in looks it not personality, someone I counted as a close friend some years ago - and the significance of the party was that I was to be reacquainted with his sister. Now his sister was kind of the perfect girl, everyone knew of our chemistry and closeness but certain circumstances had always kept us apart, except for a brief frisson the last time we met, some years earlier I think. We shared a past, a history and an intense connection but had never tied the ends together.

You know yourself how, if attending a party and knowing there's someone there you want to meet and the same person wants to meet you, that there is, after a period of shadow boxing, an inevitability to this meeting. That is what this felt like and despite the pretence, everyone else knew the same and was watching out for the signals. The moment arrived and, despite being advised caution, we found ourselves together, alone and in an intimate moment only to have our cover blown.

The cautionary notes were not heeded and we were discovered almost in tandem by my friend and by 'my wife - a curios coincidence on reflection. Such a triumphant moment of genuine romantic connection ruined before it begun. Surrounded by those in on the bust and eager to witness the unfolding drama with wide eyes and smiles cognoscent of the uncomfortable viewing.

My wife was a dark and faceless character in this dream, quite opposed to the light, detailed and beautiful features displayed by my one true love. My wife, as any one in her situation, displayed strong disapproval, bitterness and resentment yet this was soften by some sense of begrudging acceptance of the predictably of this tryst and recognition of our feelings towards one another. This is sounding a bit Charles and Camilla, isn't it. All I remember is the look of loss, the brutal and public detachment drawn in the faces and lines of my real love as I was snatched from her and the sequence of being driven away by the wronged wife in a dark featureless finale.

I find it interesting how a week on after this dream that it is still lingering in my mind. I can picture the building where the party was held; both its exterior and some of the internal detail, slbut most strikingly, I still feel quite moved by that closeness I felt and the connection, sweet, honest and enduring. I'd love to know how this can be and what it is that has created some a kinship with literally a figment of my imagination. Maybe I have transposed the dream onto the identity of a real person though I don't necessarily know who. That said, I have felt an attraction to a woman at work recently, the first such feeling in a long time, but she bears no resemblance to the face I see in my minds eye. This could be evidence of a reawakening in me and a desire for an emotional connection with a woman. Who knows? Any one wish to digest a theory to this?

As I said earlier, I have not dreamt or experienced such a real feeling dream for such a long time. I wouldn't say this was a reoccurring dream but there were certain images such as that of a farm with a rocky driveway that feel familiar to me. 

As a footnote, I once went to a friends party and formed a quick and lusty relationship with his sister. It was only heading in one direction before he reminded me that this was his little sister and to keep my hands off. As a friend I accepted his request. We are still friends. His sister is a young single mother. I have however once had a dalliance with a friends sister and that did affect our friendship but that's a whole other story for another day.....!!

Thanks for reading

London, July 2015

Thursday, 5 September 2013

Soho: Goodbye sleaze. Hello stylishness.

Soho, London. There cannot be any other London locale that elicits as much opinion and comment, sentiment or stereotyping than this small pocket in London's heartland. For me, there is no part of London that I love more. Its numerous identities reflect the different aspects of my personality - fun, naughty and thrill seeking on one hand, urbane,  international and the very definition of cosmopolitan on the other. It's identities are more strongly felt than my traits admittedly but I feel hand in glove on its streets.

This post isn't about the apparent kinship I feel with Soho but is about how Soho continues to reinvent itself and how this evolution, against a backdrop of resistance to change, keeps its spirit and its relevance.

I am currently sitting in a new cafe called Damson, and as the beautiful curly haired waitress tells me, it has been open just three months. The flat white is fantastic by the way. What's interesting is that this is very much part of the new Soho. Like Spuntino around the corner, it's intentional distressed look blends haggard and recycled with shiny and new. This is what Soho is becoming, gentrified and sterilised but in a cool way.

Maybe Soho is like a business suited woman with the top of her stockings showing. It's stockings more than crotchless panties these days for this game dame. From where I am sitting I can see an Italian deli and smart restaurant. Opposite used to be a gay cinema. Two doors down was a cavernous sex shop last year. Now it's a clothes shop. The sex shops, peep shows and dirty men in macs are confined to the Soho of yesteryear. Another sex shop closed last year and is now a Joe and the Juice. It's a sign of times, the people of Soho - of which I am one as I work here - want, like me, flat whites not flat chested babes 5 on video cassette or DVD.

This is not to say that Soho has gone soft or flaccid. Late night Soho has dark streets, corners and squares to avoid and crime, drugs and violence are still in occupation. However during early twilight the dangers are being spending too much on dinner at a celebrity chefs eaterie, being propositioned by an ageing prostitute, or being offered a handjob in the gents toilets. I know this as all have happened to me.

Whilst the sex shops and images of yore are dwindling, there is are reasons why the stereotypes of Soho still pervade. A family friend told me that on her first visit to London her mother forbade her from entering Soho and only recently as a visitor to London did she break that promise to her mother and delve into the den of iniquity and debauchery they call Soho. Understandably she wondered what all the fuss was about.

I'd say to her as you, for all of the sheen and sleekness, it's not time to say goodbye to Soho and its delicious grubbiness and salacious soul. The retail outline across the street offers Chinese and Japanese massage under the shop front 'Simply Relax'. By the look of the posing oriental lady and her attire, I'd guess a 'happy ending' might well by offered even if not referenced on the price list! I suspect places offering massage in all their guises will always find a home here along one alley or another. Similarly, whilst licensing arrangements and the Internet have killed the high street sex shop, pedlars of smut will probably be here for the foreseeable future. There will always be, like me on occasions, the urge to browse and there is something wonderful about the smell of the place and the touch of the shiny covered periodicals.

We should also not forget that Soho has become the spiritual home of the gay scene in London. What a muscle pumped, beautifully high cheeked boned, effervescent community it is. Who better than the LGBT crowd to add colour, glitz and glam to Old Compton Street, Brewer Street and the environs. In no small measure should the contribution of gay Londoners be under-estimated in powering its evolution and putting the sparkle back into Soho's crown. London's gay men and Soho are natural bedfellows. They are confident and aren't afraid to stick their colours to the mast.

As i see it, there will always be a market for adult services and adult entertainment on and amongst Soho's streets, we are humans are weak and prone to sin and for that I am truly thankful.....! Call it a basic instinct if you will but Soho will surely continue to provide a home for everything 18+. Lets hope so. At the same time, there is a growing market for fixe prix lunches and Italian coffee for the educated, affluent, agency crowd of whom I am proud to be a member, and this is only likely to grow and further Soho's reinvention. Soho is in good hands with its gay, lesbian, bisexual and
transgendered custodians and everyone is invited for dinner, drinks and a fondle.

I love Soho for all of its quirks and idiosyncrasies and for offering whatever a visitor wants from their visit here. Soho is undoubtedly becoming sleeker, more sophisticated and slightly less sex orientated. That said, it's spirit for welcoming all is as sharp today as always been and it's sleazy underbelly will remain for those who choose to turn it over and reveal in its exotic and erotic charms.

London Naked I
5th September 2013

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

H&E magazine: Mediterranean girls and unfortunate erections

I remember the first time I opened an H&E naturist magazine as it was an experience that has stuck in my mind.

I was in a small newsagents; a discreet but well stocked retailer of adult magazines, and out of all of the titles on display choosing to take down an H&E. I admit to liking pornography and I even recall buying magazines from the same shop, but naturism and natural nudity was already becoming a draw for me.

Picture the scene: a young, tall guy standing alone in a newsagents quietly flicking through looking at the pictures and reading some snippets of editorial. All of a sudden, a large group of noisy Spanish students came in. I remember a pretty girl standing by the side of me and playfully tutting. I was embarrassed by being teased but felt there was nothing to be teased about as it was a magazine about clean outdoor living.....that was until I closed the magazine to return it to the shelf from whence it came to see the cover of a tanned and well groomed Mediterranean looking girl :o

I have bought a handful of H&E's over the years, not for many now I should add, and I always enjoyed the pictures and the articles. However, I remember at least one occasion finding a disconnect between the cover shot of a beautiful young girl and the content which appeared to be orientated towards a slightly older readership. I know the magazine seeks to appeal to naturists of all ages and both genders but I couldn't help thinking the glossy cover with the pretty girl showed the slant - maybe inevitably - being more towards men than male and female naturists equally.

Also, I remember a letter about the sighting of a male erection on a naturist beach and comments from those who said this is unacceptable and those who said its unfortunate but one of those things. At the time, as a young guy who could get an erection at the merest puff of wind, I thought being naked in the presence of others guaranteed an erection, and definitely sided with the 'unfortunate' camp.

I am no longer as young and its only really now that I understand the argument. I know that men can get erections, it can happen at unfortunate times, occasionally I'll admit to having the odd tinkling sensation myself, but erections equate to sex, and naturism is not sexual. For many, there are only naked with others for sexual proclivities and they can not separate the two. What I know is that there is a clear distinction between nudity and sex, but this often take time to grasp. Being able to separate the two comes with maturity, self-awareness and understanding.

I am not sure if my experience in that newsagent or reading H&E taught my those things, they come from life experiences, but they are lessons well worth learning and understanding as far as I am concerned.

Saturday, 17 August 2013

My first naked swim

My first public naked experience was on a Thursday evening at a naturist swim. I arrived a little late and had agreed to meet the organiser. By the time I'd registered, paid and undressed, everyone else was all ready in the water.  I felt very self conscious coming out of that changing room and walking along by the pool before discreetly slipping into the water. The water was cool and I remember how wonderful it felt around the more sensitive parts of my body.

My awkwardness, as much from being in an unfamiliar venue with persons unknown as from being naked - I was body confident in those days -  quickly evaporated. With each length of the pool I could feel my comfort levels grow. I felt comfortable with my body gliding through the water. I felt pleasure and delight, it was wonderful. I began to introduce myself and start conversations. Quickly the whole experience was becoming overwhelmingly positive. 

At the end of the evening I was the last person out of the water and could barely contain my excitement to return the following week. I took the salacious states of some of the older gay male swimmers as a compliment, as I said I was body confident, and revelled in them admiring the water dripping off my naked body.

Whilst i have swam naked since, I have never felt the same thrill as I did that evening. It was so invigorating and liberating and just made me feel good. My interest in naturism definitely started at that point and made me seek out different experiences. I will talk more about that experience and discuss my views on naturism in later posts.

Thank you for reading. 

Email:   Londonnakedi@gmail.com
Twitter: Londonnakedi@twitter.com

The London Naked I

Welcome to my blog, the London Naked I.

The name of the blog is simple to explain, I am a Londoner fascinated by the nudity and nakedness of myself and of others. If my blog has an aim it is to tell my story to seek someone to voluntarily take pictures of me in the nude and to experience my nakedness and the vulnerability that goes with showing yourself intimately to others and for the moment to be captured forever. similarly, i want to reciprocate in capturing those same moments for another or others, and witness bare skin through fresh eyes and through the lens. I cannot imagine anything more intimate, erotic or giving if yourself and i hope to enjoy that experience from both sides of the camera.

Otherwise, I will talk about my naked London experiences and fantasies, and discuss a range of topics related to London life, nudity, naturism, photography and matters of the day. I hope you enjoy reading but more over, that you feel inspired to engage with me, share your adventures and to she'd your inhibitions.

Lets see where this takes us shall we? Let the adventure begin...