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Mål: 9 mønt finger heart
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Oh, guys, im a lil nervous about my first day but welcome in my room
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Erotisk dans, Twerk, Brystsex, Rygning, Hæle, Yoga, Udendørs, Spanking, Fodfetich, Rollespil, Bedømmelse af pik, Nylon, Madlavning, Korset, Onaniinstruktion, Dirty talk, Elskerinde, Ahegao, Olieshow, Topløs, Striptease, Facesitting, Doggy style, Cowgirl, Orgasme, Massage, Facial, Blottelse, Kameltå
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about me
Hello everyone! My name is Dilara, I am 18 years old and I live in Latvia. I am interested in learning languages, and this is one of my favorite activities. I am interested in learning about the culture of different countries and communicating with people from all over the world.
Besides learning languages, I love dancing. Dancing helps me express myself and relax after studying. When I dance, I feel free and happy. This is my little refuge from everyday worries.
My wishlist
A professional camera or a new lens - to capture light, emotions and life
— Subscription to dance classes (contemporary / jazz-funk / improvisation)
— A beautiful notepad for ideas, thoughts and creative notes
- Music speaker - to dance anywhere
— Comfortable clothes for dancing: leggings, tops, loose pants
— Photo books of famous photographers for inspiration
— Film camera and several rolls of film
— A trip to a new city for the atmosphere and filming
Photography for me is a way to breathe more carefully.
a way to learn to look, and not just see. When I pick up the camera, the world seems to slow down and I finally allow myself to be here and now.
I don't photograph perfect shots - I photograph sensations. Light on the skin, shadow on the wall, a glance that lasts a split second but says more than a long conversation. I've always been drawn to things that are easy to miss. To the fleeting. To the present.
Through the lens I seem to be hiding and revealing myself at the same time. It’s easier for me to speak with a camera than with words. I don't interfere - I observe. And in this observation I learn to accept the world as it is: imperfect, fragile, alive.
Sometimes I worry that my photos are too quiet. That they do not have loud plots, correct compositions, or obvious beauty. But then I understand: silence is also a voice. And, perhaps, it is in it that someone will feel not alone.
my dreams
I dream of living in the rhythm of music and light.
So that every morning begins with inspiration, and not with haste. I want to dance - not for the stage and not for grades, but because my body asks for movement, because in dance I am real. I dream of feeling like through my movements I am telling stories that I cannot say in words.
I dream of photographing the world as I see it: alive, a little fragile, filled with emotions. Catch glances, gestures, moments of silence and joy. Stopping for a moment and saving it forever is proof that beauty is in the little things.
I want creativity to be not a hobby, but a way to live. So that I am not afraid to try, make mistakes, find my own style. I dream of creating - through dance, photography, feelings. Be free in your self-expression and not adapt to other people's frameworks.
And I also dream of one day looking back and understanding: I did not betray myself. I lived the way I felt and did what lights me up from the inside.
what dancing is to me
Sometimes it seems to me that dance appeared in my life before words.
Before explanations, before fears, before attempts to be “comfortable”. When I dance, I don't think - I remember who I really am.
When I dance, my body speaks for me. It remembers everything: joy, pain, doubt, love, fatigue. What I hid deep inside comes out through movement - soft or harsh, uneven, honest. Dance never lies. It is impossible to pretend to be strong or happy if you are empty inside. And that's why he's so important to me.
I often think that dancing is not about technique. Technology is language, not meaning. The meaning is in a state. In that moment when music touches me from the inside and I allow myself to be alive. Not ideal, not learned, not correct. Just real.
Sometimes I'm scared. It’s scary to move the way I feel, and not the way I “should”. I'm afraid that they won't understand me. But every time I dance, I choose honesty over fear. And this is a small victory over yourself.