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ब्रुजो देस्नुदो

Brujo desnudo

IT wasn’t the P350 sitting fee that I was paid upfront after an hour or so assuming, then, keeping a pose frozen for 15 minutes in puris naturalibus… what was more precious were one or two sketches in colored pencil, charcoal, or ink on art paper that a bevy of artists gifted me after the nude sketching sessions… the missus found them—maybe the angle of the dangle-- not to her liking, disposed of them, ephemeral immortality on paper.

Ah, those painters were profuse with appreciation at what they saw… veins running like root-rills on the arms, ripple of stringy flesh on torso and thighs akin to lizards about to pounce on prey… a lot of work went into such shaping of such lean and mean meat, say, a tattoo of 108 fist blows hurled by both arms… 88 kicks for each leg… 22 blows for each elbow… and odds and ends household chores throughout any day.

Get into that shape if you’re a sucker for the Scriptures about the Hebrew term, musar— discipline, exclusive attainment, a genius-spirit ruling nature… probably what George Washington had in mind: “Discipline is the soul of an army. It makes small numbers formidable; procures success to the weak, and esteem to all.”

So I did a stint as a nude model for artists back in the 1980s… years of hatha yoga and qigong practice made it easy for me to take on and freeze a pose for extended periods—no twitching, no movement… just easy breathing in sheer calm like an unperturbed mirror pond.

Uh, that was my body that turned up in Renato Habulan’s oils on canvas depicting laborers, cane cutters, daily wage earners… the missus would recognize such a built anytime.

Nalasing sa Vino Kulafu na itinagay ng kahuntahan, nag-init ang katawan… naghubo’t hubad, naglublob sa kalapit na bahagi ng dagat na nakatanaw sa mga pulong lalawigan ng Siquijor at Cebu, kalapit ng pangunahing lansangan ng Dumaguete sa gawing silangan nito… lampas na ang hating-gabi nang gawin ‘yon pero nagliliyab ang mga hanay ng ilaw sa lansangan.

Sa pag-ahon, napansin na hinihimod ang lantad na katawan sa tingin ng mga banyaga sa tabing-aplaya… ni hindi naman nahimasmasan sa kalasingan, ni walang dalang tuwalya kaya ni hindi pinansin ang mga nakamulagat na mga mata… nagpantalon, pasuray ang lakad tungo sa tinutuluyang otel.

Eh ano kung sa pagkakataong ‘yon, bigla akong naging—wow, Philippines-- clitourist attraction?

Bawal ang pugot at pantalon sa swimming pool ng isang otel sa Batangas na minsang tinuluyan, may dress code pa pala na dapat sundin sa paglublob… out-of-the-box thinking mode made me jump into the pool with nothing but a smile and a hard-on…

Why, if beauty is only skin-dip, skinny dipping is a sane option to turn beautiful, mwa-ha-ha-haw!

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