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Description
In what some would call a moment of poetic justice the tables were turned on me last fall as I ended up in the mud instead of being safely behind the camera where I often photograph my models rolling around in it. A camping trip to the San Rafael Swell in central Utah with two of my buddies was supposed to include a model who we were all going to take pictures of. Things changed at the last minute and he didn't make it. A few minutes into our hike into the famous slot canyon called the Chute at Muddy Creek my clothes came off. It wasn't my intention to be photographed - it's just that in places as wild and wondrous as that the first thing I always want to do is get naked as it deepens my connection to the earth and allows me to touch some of those more primitive places in me.

One of the guys is a pro photographer and the other guy John, who took this picture, knows his way around the picture taking thing even though he doesn't do it professionally. They asked me if they could take some pictures and the next thing you know they have me rolling around in the gorgeous red mud with shutters clicking. I will confess that even though I was happy to do it I suddenly began to be self-conscious about my body; is my dick looking too small, my belly too big, my butt not curvy enough? I couldn't answer those questions so I began to think about what some of my models would do in that situation and suddenly it didn't matter to me anymore what anything looked like. I was channeling my models and just did in the mud what I thought they might have done.

The mud was cool, the sun warm and within moments I was slithering about in the mud as if it were my native home; to some degree completely unaware of what they were doing with their cameras. I arched my back, plunged my face into the mud and took off; the tables fully turned on a guy who'd asked his models so many times over the years to do exactly the same thing.

I let the mud dry on my skin and made no attempt to wash or peel it off as we continued on up the slot canyon in search of other places to explore. We found some amazing spots and the pictures continued until the sun went down behind the towering canyon walls. For the next two days I left the mud on my body and in my hair. I couldn't have washed it off anyway - they call it Muddy Creek for a reason. A plunge into the water would have only deposited more mud onto what was already there. By the time the last pictures of the day were done I found myself not wanting to get dressed and it dawned on me why it's so hard for my models to put their clothes on again after such an experience; it feels so good and you're so into it and you know that those clothes are going to change everything and wisk you back into a world where your primitivism will be lost. I settled for the only things I'd taken with me on the hike: a sarong, a t-shirt and a pair of flip flops. They did nothing to protect me from the cold but I had that layer of mud still thick on my skin and I was happy with that.

Perhaps the tables need to be turned more often so that I never lose sight of what my models do for me when they step in front of my camera naked. I came away from that adventure in the Chute at Muddy Creek a more enlightened artist and a guy more in love with the earth and himself than ever. That's a lot to take away from a weekend of camping in the wildlands.

Description
In what some would call a moment of poetic justice the tables were turned on me last fall as I ended up in the mud instead of being safely behind the camera where I often photograph my models rolling around in it. A camping trip to the San Rafael Swell in central Utah with two of my buddies was supposed to include a model who we were all going to take pictures of. Things changed at the last minute and he didn't make it. A few minutes into our hike into the famous slot canyon called the Chute at Muddy Creek my clothes came off. It wasn't my intention to be photographed - it's just that in places as wild and wondrous as that the first thing I always want to do is get naked as it deepens my connection to the earth and allows me to touch some of those more primitive places in me.

One of the guys is a pro photographer and the other guy John, who took this picture, knows his way around the picture taking thing even though he doesn't do it professionally. They asked me if they could take some pictures and the next thing you know they have me rolling around in the gorgeous red mud with shutters clicking. I will confess that even though I was happy to do it I suddenly began to be self-conscious about my body; is my dick looking too small, my belly too big, my butt not curvy enough? I couldn't answer those questions so I began to think about what some of my models would do in that situation and suddenly it didn't matter to me anymore what anything looked like. I was channeling my models and just did in the mud what I thought they might have done.

The mud was cool, the sun warm and within moments I was slithering about in the mud as if it were my native home; to some degree completely unaware of what they were doing with their cameras. I arched my back, plunged my face into the mud and took off; the tables fully turned on a guy who'd asked his models so many times over the years to do exactly the same thing.

I let the mud dry on my skin and made no attempt to wash or peel it off as we continued on up the slot canyon in search of other places to explore. We found some amazing spots and the pictures continued until the sun went down behind the towering canyon walls. For the next two days I left the mud on my body and in my hair. I couldn't have washed it off anyway - they call it Muddy Creek for a reason. A plunge into the water would have only deposited more mud onto what was already there. By the time the last pictures of the day were done I found myself not wanting to get dressed and it dawned on me why it's so hard for my models to put their clothes on again after such an experience; it feels so good and you're so into it and you know that those clothes are going to change everything and wisk you back into a world where your primitivism will be lost. I settled for the only things I'd taken with me on the hike: a sarong, a t-shirt and a pair of flip flops. They did nothing to protect me from the cold but I had that layer of mud still thick on my skin and I was happy with that.

Perhaps the tables need to be turned more often so that I never lose sight of what my models do for me when they step in front of my camera naked. I came away from that adventure in the Chute at Muddy Creek a more enlightened artist and a guy more in love with the earth and himself than ever. That's a lot to take away from a weekend of camping in the wildlands.