OBJECTIFICATION IN THE ERA OF #METOO

    Researching and writing multiple books were not the only reasons I stopped writing this blog in 2017.  There were some other issues at play that year. Decades of attempting to keep my glaucoma under control had resulted in an eye operation in my left eye and hundreds of years of oppression, exploitation of women resulting in a overlooked, dark post-feminist "rape culture," brought forth the hashtag MeToo. A reckoning was afoot. Fearing blindness and questioning the validity of writing a blog that featured scantily clad women, I too was affected by the times "canceling" myself......until I could figure it all out.

    As an artist, a fan, and a hunter I am an objectifier. I obsess over the object (in whatever form) seeking out the big beautiful buck, the pleasing composition, or languid female form sprawled out in all her glory across the page. I can appreciate the male form also, but hey, we all have our favorites. Time and space is limited. I identify as a heterosexual male-- like it or not. I'm unapologetic and confident in my choices. Then I squeeze the trigger or press "publish," moving on. Sometimes I hit the target. Sometimes I miss.

  Four years after Trump's "pussy grabbing" tape was revealed, four years of official misogyny, racist anti-immigrant policy, child separations, and the appointments of a sexual abuser (Kavanaugh) and a  handmaid (Coney-Barrett) to the Supreme Court, where has #MeToo gone? It has been, if not eclipsed, at least temporarily set aside by more pressing events like a pandemic, multiple (and ongoing) murders of unarmed black men, women and children by police and the most important Presidential election in American history. As I dive back into HWS the shelf life of the hashtag MeToo is front and center.   

  When I started writing HWS it was inspired by a cold afternoon squiring French supermodel Morgane Dubled through the NY woods during deer season. Stepping off the Victoria's Secret runway into my pickup seemed too crazy not to memorialize in some way. Remember Victoria's Secret? It's no secret anymore. But those days in 2007 were simpler times of angel wings and skimpy thongs. HWS was born. I would write about hunting (and anything else), emulating my father's trashy magazines of my youth like True and Argosy, while featuring work of my art photographer friends Richard Kern, Marianna Rothen and George Holz. Although there were plenty of nipples and asses, it was not even close to pornographic or exploitive. I would call it tasteful. 

     Plenty of individuals (mostly men) fell under the #MeToo ax in the ensuing years for being creepy, manipulative, sexual abusers. Rightfully so. A welcome light was shone on exploitive practices in academia, the entertainment industry and the art world that put women in compromising positions in order to maintain careers; while at the same time America elected a sexual predator as President. WTF? Yes, I'm an objectifier. Most artists are. But I'm no sexual abuser, misogynist or smut peddler. I welcome #MeToo, #blacklivesmatter, and #notmypresident. I personally guarantee that all the photographers and models featured in HWS are professional, incredibly talented and appearing here with their permission. Without apology I offer their work to the public once again. Enjoy!

P.S.

The eye operation was a success! Everything is now in focus.