Full nudity is a lot less titillating than partial nudity where strategic body parts are barely covered.

In my youth, I spent some time at a nude beach. There were some very fit young ladies there. After my first time there, when I was amazed at the number of people who seem totally unconcerned about the amount of exposed flesh, their own and those around them, I found it quite tranquil, rather than arousing.

The only time that I found it in the slightest titillating was when a not to fit middle aged woman chose the beach directly in front of me to undress and that was only while she was disrobing. After, it was the same old average day at the nude beach.

Unfortunately, the modern view is that the difference between Victorian attitudes about sex and Puritan views were interchangeable.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. While Puritans believed sex belong solely in the confines of marriage as did the Victorians, they were decidedly pro-sex. They felt the romantic and intimate expression of love making was a gift from God to be celebrated and enjoyed. So much so that in one case, they ex-communicated one man for not having sex with his wife.

A large part of what guides me in writing my prose is this Puritan view and my own Quaker and Puritan ancestry. I prefer sex in the context of marriage, faithfulness to one partner, et al. Now, to a certain extent, the awakening of sexual desire will be addressed in a story I may have written or will write, but never is it taken to the extent that the act is complete with full description.

Which brings me around to your question about exhibitionists. Yes, I am disturbed by the blatant advertisements of sex around us. I have been since my teenage years. The objectification of either male or females while ignoring an individual's potential to make a positive contribution is sad. I can remember the first time I heard Christopher Cross or Joe Cocker or Janice Joplin or Mama Cass on the radio, I certainly didn't judge them by their sex appeal. In fact, Mama Cass was my favorite singer of the Mamas and the Papas. She was a delight. But, all of these singers were not necessarily on the most handsome or beautiful lists.

And, it disturbs me to this day that we lost one of the most beautiful voices in all of pop music because of a body appearance issue. That would be Karen Carpenter who died from anorexia. I adored her signing. She could have weighed three hundred pounds and I would still get a thrill over hearing the beautiful voice coming out of her.

But today, it seems unless you look as beautiful as Taylor Swift or as handsome as Robin Thicke, your talent as a singer is ignored. And the quality of the music has degraded to trash songs like Blurred Lines.

One of the reasons I enjoy French Music so much is how centered they are in things that improve my life. From the Beauty of Doubt by Florent Pagney which celebrates long term commitment to Patrick Fiori's Elles which celebrates womanhood to Patrick Bruel's Qui a le Droit which discusses the lies we tell our children to justify our divorces and bad personal choices we make in our relationships, French music lifts me up whereas when I hear modern American songs I want often to puke.

Which leads me to my point. I detest the ethos that diminishes the individual trans"man/woman" that says unless they look like they are coming off a modeling carpet, they don't count. Yes, I understand the issue of attractiveness. But, one of the positive and clear messages of movies like Tootsie or Mrs. Doubtfire is that you don't have to look like a model in order to pass as a woman.

For what it is worth, when you write your stories the way you often do, you build up the beauty of a relationship built on qualities that endure or point out the ugliness of qualities that destroy relationships and cause pain. Either way, you are exploring our human nature.

That makes them worth your time and trouble to write.

Happy pondering and Happy New Year ...

AuP