Confidence

Lisa recently told me that I need to have more confidence. One goal of our website is to generate sales, after all. It’s important to promote my work continually. That’s undeniable. I’ve written three novels, two of which are available on my bookshelf. The third has yet to be published. All are literary renderings of the nude. Each is artfully crafted. Why am I reluctant to follow her advice, say how great they are and pressure people into buying them? My search for a suitable answer has involved a lot of introspection.


Starting when I was a kid, I had dreams about naked women. None were sexual in nature. They simply featured a prominent female who neglected to cover up. She — eventually a single individual — haunted me for years. My second wife had a background in psychology (although I have been married twice before, neither relationship lasted as long as my decade with Lisa). The mystery figure, she claimed, was my anima. The term has, since I began wondering what exactly is wrong with me, resurfaced. I looked it up.

Carl Jung had used the word to refer to a mental image of a lady who embodies the unconscious feminine side of a man. To quote Wikipedia: “Jung believed a male’s sensitivity is often lesser or repressed, and therefore considered the anima one of the most significant autonomous complexes.” More importantly, she manifests in dreams and enables creative ability. Eve, Helen, Mary and Sofia comprise the four stages of her development from desire to wisdom.


Sigmund Freud, on the other hand, speculated that nude dreams were about sexual awakening or anxiety. In my scenarios, however, I wasn’t the one without any clothes on. She was.

Typing “nude anima” as a topic on the internet only returns “nude anime” which, I found, are pornographic cartoons. My dream persona never behaved suggestively. Rather, she always seemed as relaxed as the models represented here (my apologies for the oil paint smeared across the sketches; the were used as source material in the studio). The figure from my dreams simply went about her business. So what was the problem?


Maybe she personifies my artistic side. It might explain why she seems so vulnerable to me and no one else. I’m more worried about her exposure than she has ever been. Her depiction, whether in imagery or words, amounts to revealing my innermost self. A level of fear results. I respond with expressions of modesty. They cause me to minimize my achievements … which is where I started. Lisa recently told me that I need to have more confidence.

Published by Colin Turner

I'm an artist, an author and, usually, the quietest guy in the room.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: