Naked Garden

She was nude, but no chill had ever been felt on her skin. The softness of her innocence mirrored the purity of the garden.

The dawn broke and the sun scattered light in prisms. Each blossom turned, blooming and bursting with the invention of color. Every creature motioned the fullness of life.

She moved peacefully. The air stood and waited, ready to give her next breath.
There were no lines on her face, no evidence of fear or despair. Her skin had no imperfections from toil, sun, or time.

She reached unabashedly for an enormous grape on the vine. Her teeth sunk through the skin and juice fell from her lips. It slid down her neck to her breast.

The sensation was pleasant. Her fingers glided across her skin.
She did not blush at the thought of the sticky juice on her body. Lying down on a bed of grass, she looked through the branches to the sky.

Then Adam moved through the stillness. He did not call to her; there was no need. He knew only her in the garden.

His form was untarnished. He gazed upon his wife, fulfilled.
He was created with the ability to move swiftly, but there was no urgency to his step.
His assured physique moved past her without knowing shame. There was nothing imperfect about his exposed makeup.

She stirred, sensing the footless creature slide by. She rose to take another grape from the vine; something brushed against her ankle, distracting her.

Then it whispered to her. Whispering promises she did not understand and coyly telling its lies.

She did not know a promise from a lie.

She stood in all of her beauty – without knowing the existence of poison or evil. Her innocence marked her to trust in the goodness of all her blessings, surroundings, and creator.

She tasted the fruit. She trusted. She shared. And in that moment – they were stripped.

The deception enveloped their home. The colors suddenly were in contrast rather than harmony.

Their ignorance was fearful, not forgiving.

The breeze turned cold and the garden creatures mocked.

They knew. In a moment they knew their creator.

Not one of love, but wrath.

Not balance, but revenge.

Not pity, but vanity.

Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew they were naked

Naked Garden

Mardra

Omaha, United States

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Artist's Description

The journey from Nude to Naked
I had entered this in the Nude Book Challenge – (it didn’t win but I hope you’ll read anyway :)

I can’t help it – I really like this. But I don’t have any idea what to do with it now.

Hmmm.

Artwork Comments

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