Art byAlejandro Morales

I was visiting family and friends in South Florida the summer between Freshman and Sophomore year at NYU. My then best friend had discovered Haulover Beach and had urged me to go with him. I had extreme shame and insecurity at the time. Looking back, however, I think I had just been terrified of my body rather than ashamed of it. It was 1993, AIDS was very much a thing, and my sexuality and physicality as a result was very much compartmentalized.

My public self was chaste; privately I frequented dark, cruisy spots I was discovering my first year in New York and feeling immense guilt after. Socially I felt awkward and needing to overcompensate for everything, while privately in a back room I allowed myself to feel a certain kind of freedom because no one was going to see.

For a whole slew of reasons I had never felt like I fit in with other guys. I was too short, too nerdy, too sensitive. But in a back room, I could just be one of the many bodies writhing in the dark. One of the guys. When my friend and I disrobed at the beach, it was weird for about 30 seconds and then something clicked. I felt free in a way I didn’t know I could feel. Not to mention there was a closeness I felt with my friend I had not felt before.

It was more fraternal than sexual, similar to the joyful image of nude swimming in movies like Yentl and A Room With a View. It blew my mind that something like this was available to me. I felt with nudism, I could take a step towards unifying myself.

Casual nudism helped me contextualize my body with other men’s bodies. I also find the experience of casual nudism with others to be an enjoyable, sensuous experience that doesn’t have to be sexual. I can find delight in just experiencing, witnessing and belonging. I have yet to go to a nudist event where everyone looked exactly the same — which is not what we see on social media and online porn with curated and filtered images of exposed bodies. Too much of those images leads me to feeling alien and other. In real life, however, among the big and the small, the bony and the fleshy, the hairy and the smooth, I feel very much a part of a greater whole.

There was a time I was plugged into a gay nudist scene here in New York but that sort of fell away. Other than the beach in summer, it’s not easy to just hang out with other guys naked.

A lot of what’s really helped me spark an art practice is the community of artists I know here in the city. So making art in community, particularly queer male community, is something I value. I love going to a social event where not only is everyone naked but so much of the socializing is woven into art making.

Going to a place where I am baring my skin, but also baring my creativity — two things I felt were not allowed to blend in my earlier gay life — is powerful alchemy. There’s a sense of play I’ve experienced at the parties where suddenly themed photo shoots are happening or there’s a DJ or everyone runs out onto a Brooklyn rooftop in the snow.

I also participate as a model at the parties, so there’s something very powerful about letting an artist pose me and take a picture and me letting it go. When I see the pictures later there’s something very powerful about witnessing myself through someone else’s eyes. Not to mention, after the harsh isolation of the lockdowns of 2020–2021, I very much need this naked queer artsy energy in my life.

Natural Pursuits is my lab for exploring one-on-one sessions with models. I primarily draw in group figure drawing sessions, so I don’t have a lot of experience asking people “hey can I draw you?” for solo sessions.

A couple years ago a friend asked to pose for me. He had never posed before, so we found something he could hold comfortably. As long as he remained still, we were able to talk as I drew. I asked him all sorts of questions about books, his work, men, his dog. I realized I liked this method of working one-on-one with someone — as I am inviting some internal qualities about the model to be present in the room as I draw their naked form.

This is pretty much the method I use and experiment with at Natural Pursuits. Lastly, if I think about the drawing as a souvenir of an exchange — something that happened face to face and not on screen — I worry less about the likeness or how the drawing will turn out.

I work in watercolor which is quick and portable but does require drying time. I try to get several drawings done at a party while also socializing — so drying time is a pain. I’ve devised a system that allows me to put down a rough draft I can refine later. I get a basic line drawing of the model in and then block in all the shadows and key colors as light washes. I can then go over the layers with deeper color when I can let them dry properly. I use the same palette for everything I do at each party so I know which 3–4 colors get used in each drawing. I also decide on a particular look I want for each party and just stick to that.

What’s interesting to me is that finishing the drawings later, I am often reminded of little moments with the model — things they said, a story they might have told. The drawings turn out to be little time capsules.