nude pics, photos of nude woman and models

I think that blessed are those who can see beauty in ordinary things, for they always have a connection to Source.

We mourn the passing of Jaromir, who contributed to Domai and also ran, one of the very few sites which had a similar view and philosophy as Domai (fun and beauty above sex). He was a friend too and will be remembered. Here are a couple of his photos:



Eolake Stobblehouse

Letters To DOMAI


Summer on the Ranch.
I grew up in a conservative small Midwestern town.  When I was fifteen, I spent the entire summer on a remote South Dakota ranch operated by my distant cousins.   Their nearest neighbor was miles away and if you needed something, you either made it, grew it, or bought it during one of the bi-monthly trips to the nearest town.
Since the summer heat made outdoor chores hot and sticky, boys typically worked without shirts.  And this was not unusual where I lived either.  However, to my surprise, the female ranch-hands removed their shirts when outside working, too.
At first, their lack of tan lines and overall athletic fitness of their bodies made the distinction between male or female non-distinct from a distance.   Most of the cowgirls had straw hats and from behind, could appear to be a boy.
I was working in a distant field and was loading hay bales on a flat rack. I tossed the bales from the ground up into the flat wagon.  Someone else would be on the wagon to stack the bales for transport to the distant barn. When the next wagon pulled up, I didn’t notice until the third throw that my stacking partner was a shirtless young women of twenty-one.  
I don’t remember what I said, but I completely missed the wagon with my bale toss as I stared up at my shirtless partner.   Her name was Ellen and a true cowgirl.  She had blue jeans, leather boots and gloves, and a straw cowboy hat, but her tan upper body was lean and strong.
Her boyish hair style would have made you think she could be a cowboy from the back.  However, she was distinctly female as I saw her now.   As my errant throw would soon be scolded by my shirtless partner, I returned to my previous pace of flinging bales to the wagon for my partner to stack for transport.  
As the day continued, I observed three other young women who preferred the shirtless work attire.  However, no one else seemed to give it any noticed to this state of undress.   
When the day ended, we retired to the evening meal and I asked if anyone thought odd about the shirtless women.   The elder patriarch of the ranch family spoke first. She didn’t understand the fuss about a natural bump of flesh.  “If it was God’s creation, we shouldn’t be embarrassed about it.  End of discussion.”
I didn’t bring up the subject again.   I did enjoy my new ability to view each of the young women.  Watching them work their athletic bodies and how they moved was interesting.  Not sexual, but pleasantly visual.  Their movements flowed differently than the men.   They were not as strong, so they needed to do things differently to move objects of size and weight.  It was mesmerizing to observe them go through the day of regular ranch work.
When I returned to my hometown, I did not tell my friends that this had happened.  I figured if they were not there, they would color this as scandalous instead.  I will not forget the summer I discovered my strong appreciation for the natural female form.
Former Cornhusker

Letter 2 by Mark M:

For many years, as a teenager muddling his way through the wonderful but confusing world of "man" and "woman", I found it hard to articulate why I could sometimes be struck dumb by some things, but left utterly disinterested by others. I could spend any amount of time quietly admiring an attractive young woman reading by the river, yet the inevitable tide of top-shelf magazines found in any group of boys simply washed by me without trace. I knew what I liked, and it made perfect sense to me on an instinctive level, but explaining it was beyond me.

Moving forward to the present day, I recently came across the DOMAI website whilst following a chain of links, the general subject of which can be summarised as: "How to let a woman know that you find her attractive for who she is, rather than what she is." One of those links led to a DOMAI newsletter on the subject of making and accepting compliments, which I found sensitive and well-argued, so I read some more, and pretty soon I was hooked. It feels good to know that there are men beyond myself (and a couple of close friends) who prefer something greater than the modern tendency to elevate looks and sexuality above all else.

Having made that discovery, I think it's time to take a crack at explaining that puzzle from my teenage years, with the help of an example from the time. Over the two decades since then, that example has remained my most evocative memory of feminine beauty for its own sake.

It happened during a swimming class, where the Phys Ed teacher had us lined up at one end of the pool to practice swimming underwater. Each of us was to swim as far as we could on one breath, surface, continue to the other end of the pool, climb out and rejoin the line of people waiting. I had just left the pool after my turn, so I was walking back to the group as a classmate began her pass.

Did I mention that this was a co-ed swimming class? No? Most remiss of me.

As I got to about halfway along the poolside, she swam right past, still underwater, and through a sunbeam that was wavering with nothing more than the slightest of ripples. The light shifted her shoulder-length hair from fair to gold, cushioned against the black of her swimsuit and framed by the blue of the pool. She was tall and slim, a much better swimmer than I, and she glided through the water with the utmost economy of movement. The only trace of her passage was a perfectly-spaced line of bubbles, struck silver in the sun.

For me, time seemed to stretch as I tried to absorb every detail without betraying myself to twenty spectators and a Phys Ed teacher. In that moment, I quietly promoted my classmate from "attractive" to "beautiful". She was an expression of grace.

That was the key. There was no need for nudity or sexuality. Just an elemental appreciation for that once-in-a-lifetime chance to see a facet of perfection.

DOMAI is the one site I've seen so far which aims to show nudity in a way which is compatible with that outlook, where true beauty can become a sum which is greater than its parts. My favourite images from the newsletter turn out to be the ones where the young woman is captured in perfect comfort with her situation - you can always tell from the smile!

Here and now, in my thirties, I have become legally blind. I still have enough of my eyesight left to see and enjoy those moments of grace in my life, although they are harder to catch now, since I have to be looking in exactly the right direction as they happen. If there's one thing I'd say to people on the subject, it's this: "Take advantage of your chances while you have them." I have no idea where that young woman from my class is now, but I'll never forget her in that moment, and I'm glad I was there to see it.

Mark M

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