Anna
Three traces within her. No noise, only moving on. What was hidden has passed. She remains.
Nude
The Old Doll
The old doll knows no fear, it feels nothing, it loves nothing, it is safe, and that is why she still carries it
Lu
Not quite a line. Not quite chance. Something in between. She follows no form – she creates it.
Denisa
Nothing here asks. The form stays with itself. Two lives at her side. Freedom is not escape but choice.
What Remains of the Human
They took her head. Not out of cruelty, but out of habit. They wrapped her in coarse fabric, called it order, called it protection.
Vulva - a poetic Manifest
They wanted to possess her and called it love. They wanted to dominate her and called it protection. They wanted to destroy her and calle...
Tetjana
A wave, shaped from hair and honey, dances between courage and play.
Tania
Some things grow because they don’t have to. Free, wild, like an idea that refuses to be tamed.
Kata
Almost like a drawing. But nothing was designed. This isn’t style - it’s origin.
Kerry
Strength is what allows softness. The line is clear, not sharp - just honest.
