VILIDIAN VILKS.

I’m saving my words for a book saga.
I’ll write it at sea, preferably in the middle of a storm and when days look monotonous and hard.

When I think about how I ended up in artmodeling, I reckon my story is similar to that of many: we didn’t seek it, it found us and provided a way to express in unhinged ways.

I think others see that, that permission we allowed for the muse to take us. Because, believe it or not, we are also a-mused.
  
We are also hunting it. We are doing the same thing.

I’ve found her in many situations. While I do the most ordinary of things, in conversations with humans and alike, studying geology books, investigating the source of a language, walking full days with pain flooding every cell, in shared laughter, unplanned dance, when trying to stick to the difficult path, understanding death… I’ve of course found her in the multifaceted reflections of the icebergs, in the newborn touching her mama’s skin for the first time, in the people who continuously choose to be better, to resist.

I’ve tried photographing her, for every success failing a thousand times.

I’ve worn her in my body.