Where's Walda?

     Sometimes the thought of displaying a nude in one's home causes a bit of discomfort. For those situations we have here a few nudes in which the nude is not always obvious. Of course, that discomfort will fade when  humanity's rapidly expanding knowledge of genetics and genetic engineering and a group of women —perhaps a knitting club somewhere or a book club, or someone looking at my photography— will be sitting around when it suddenly dawns on them that the human male is no longer necessary. They'll just stop having male babies. Reproduction will be done in a sanitary fashion and result in only girl babies. Remaining males will die off and that will be that. (Of course, that will be the end of what A.J. Liebling called “the glorious diversion” and about which he wrote, “It remains the most amusing as well as the most instructive of human activities, and one of the most nearly harmless.”) 

     Many of the most skilled photographers of the human nude, Anne Brigman, Imogen Cunningham, Ruth Bernnard, to name just three were women, so the absence of men photographing female nudes will be no great loss. 

     Pretty soon a mother will take her daughter to the Museum of Natural History which will have a diorama containing a naked, stuffed carcass of the extinct human male and the little girl will exclaim, “Ewww, what's that Mommy?”