An Intimate Journey of Wildness, Vulnerability, and Creation
The forest has always been a space where transformation begins—a threshold between the ordinary and the sacred. This series of self-portraits was my invitation to step into that space, not as an outsider but as a participant, allowing the forest to shape and hold the creative process.
These images reflect a surrender to nature, an act of becoming part of the landscape rather than simply existing within it. The towering trees, the earthy shadows, and the fading sunlight became collaborators in this creative ritual. With each pose—leaning against the bark, crouching by the earth—I let go of control and stepped into something wilder, something untamed.
The process of creating these portraits felt ceremonial, like offering myself back to the land. In doing so, I wasn’t just capturing an image; I was capturing a moment of communion with the forest and with myself.
Rooted in Wildness: A Self-Portrait Series in Dialogue with the Forest



The image where I’m stood behind the tree, pulling my knickers down, is intentionally playful—a moment where intimacy and humour collide. It’s as though you’ve stumbled upon something you weren’t supposed to see, a glimpse of a private moment suspended in ambiguity. Is she having a pee? Is this a stolen, candid ritual of sorts? It invites you to linger in the question, feeling a little coy, a little curious, and maybe even slightly embarrassed for looking. The humour in the scene balances its raw intimacy, reminding us that the sacred and the mundane often coexist in the most unexpected ways. It’s funny, but it’s also vulnerable—there’s a tenderness in the absurdity of it, a lighthearted acknowledgment of the messy, human side of nakedness and nature. In that split-second, you’re drawn into a moment that feels both universal and entirely personal.
Through the Threshold: The Intimate Language of Self-Portraiture
As the series shifted from the forest to more intimate compositions, the tone transformed. While the second series rooted me in the wildness of the natural world, this set of portraits asked me to explore the raw vulnerability of being fully seen—by myself, for myself.
These images feel like stepping into a liminal space, a place where boundaries dissolve and something tender emerged. Posing amidst the grasses, with soft light and blurred focus, was an act of both creation and surrender. It required me to meet myself where I was—without judgment, without filters, just raw and real.
The series is deeply personal, almost like peering into a diary written in light and shadow. It explores themes of femininity, self-acceptance, and the sacredness of simply being. The intimate series of self-portraits feels like stepping into a private moment—a space where vulnerability and creativity meet, unguarded and unapologetic. They hold a tension between exposure and protection, creating a visual language that speaks to the universal human experience of being seen.
This series was not just about creating beautiful images; it was a deeply emotional process. It asked me to strip away layers of expectation and perfectionism, and to stand before the lens as I am—imperfect, human, and enough. The soft focus, muted tones, and grainy textures mirror the emotional haziness of meeting myself in such a vulnerable way.
As I crouched among the grasses, letting the natural elements obscure and frame my body, I felt simultaneously hidden and exposed. This tension became a central theme of the series—playing with what is revealed and what remains unseen, and how that mirrors our inner worlds. The grasses became both a shield and a veil, reminding me of the ways we protect our tender parts while still yearning to be known.
grass caresses my skin softly

soft, sensual sighs

my sacred work, on it’s knees, begging to be done

Blurring the Line Between Artist and Muse
What made this series especially challenging and rewarding was being both the creator and the subject. As the artist, I was crafting the narrative, but as the muse, I had to surrender to it. This duality required a level of self-trust that I hadn’t encountered before. I wasn’t just photographing myself; I was holding space for myself to be truly, deeply vulnerable. It reminded me that to truly see others, we must first learn to see ourselves.
There’s a sacredness in allowing yourself to be seen, especially by yourself. These portraits became a way to process, to reflect, and to honour the parts of me that I might otherwise hide. Intimacy isn’t always about physical closeness; it’s about being present, being honest, and being willing to sit with what arises. These images are a reflection of that presence—an offering to myself and, by extension, to anyone who views them.
I wanted these images to hover in the space between desire and unease, to feel almost erotic yet softened by the blur, the grain, and the dreamlike tones. They hold a tension that mirrors my own experience of sex and nakedness—both thrilling and unnerving, an interplay of surrender and power, fear and longing. The softness of the focus, the way light spills over skin, and the muted, otherworldly tones I chose in editing were meant to evoke the feeling of being intoxicated—on love, on touch, on the edges of reality itself.
There’s something psychedelic about how the images unravel; they don’t give you clarity but instead pull you deeper into their ambiguity. I wanted them to be hauntingly beautiful, to linger in the viewer’s mind like the trace of a half-remembered dream. Am I afraid, or am I turned on? The answer is both, because in that charged space lies the rawest truth of being human. To me, nakedness is as much about exposure as it is about connection—stripped of pretense, you are entirely seen, and that’s both terrifying and electrifying. These portraits hold that tension, letting the viewer feel it, too.
This series is an invitation to embrace intimacy—not just with others but with yourself. To lean into the spaces where you feel raw and tender, and to see them not as weaknesses but as sources of power. It’s a reminder that being vulnerable is not about being exposed; it’s about being authentic. These images tell a story of self-discovery, of the courage it takes to truly see yourself, and of the beauty that emerges when we stop trying to hide.
In Creativity & Connection
Rosie x
You are, as ever, an inspiration Rosie. I admire your courage in exploring the edge places, challenging yourself with gently curiosity and joyful playfulness, to explore those places where you lead others. Thank you x