Liberation and The Normal Wood Creates the Sea / by Rebecca Tillett

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I'll speak candidly: I've been wanting to shoot this woman naked for years. To quickly capture just a glimpse and solidify her beautiful art-plastered body in photographs for infinitude. Shanna's my tattoo artist and one hell of a chick and I've photographed her before but never was there such tenaciousness in the air. Even days prior to the shoot she said she'd be bringing pretty underwear for "safe" shots. But she didn't. On one uncharacteristically cold Colorado September morning a few weeks ago she showed up entirely vulnerable, wholeheartedly exposed and ready to be taken. And fuck, do I admire that. There's a certain amount of bravado, raw guts and fearlessness that my nude models tend to have and while it may rarely be evident, I am in awe of them as I'm shooting them. They are bolder and braver than I'll ever be.

You’re amazing. You’re completely self-aware and yet emancipated from what ties you to this earth. You’re raw and dripping with fervor for life. You’re part ocean, part land and all sky. You’re beautiful. You’re burning in your eagerness for sensation. You’re brighter than the sun.
— R. Tillett
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Liberation

(to accompany the images avec les oiseaux)
Où habitez-vous?
Wo wohnen Sie?
¿Dónde vive?
Dove vivi?
I live in your heart.
Et a chaque oiseaux son nid est beau.
Underneath your bones and between the muscle.
Did you forget?
You live in every pore of my skin
Carne. La viande. Le carni. Fleisch.
Every molecule and idea of you
before you prevailed as a sovereign being.
I can't keep reminding you to look for me there.
And I can't keep gasping for air.
Yo voy a dejar ir.
Liberation.