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Before, I looked at the body only as a form.
Light, lines, texture -
I thought that was enough.
But then I began to see something else - the energy that lives beneath the skin. And everything changed.
When I touch clay, a kind of memory awakens in me. Not about moments, but about experiences every woman carries - pain, tenderness, shame, fatigue, awakening. Clay pulls it to the surface without asking for permission. It softens the blocks, melts the armour, and allows the body to breathe again.
And then I see - how light seeps through the cracks. How tension becomes peace. How a body that once feared to exist, suddenly allows itself simply to be.
This is not about photography. It’s about returning to yourself - through earth, through touch, through truth. Every time - as if for the first time. And every time - deeper.
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