'Slowing Down'.
Slowing Down is foundational to Sexuality Humanity because everything else begins here.
Shik treats slowing down as a necessary condition for self-awareness. Trauma, shame and judgment often produce automatic reactions: avoidance, defensiveness, dissociation, performance. To slow down is to interrupt that reflex and create enough space to actually feel what is happening in the body.
The work is therefore not simply about rest. It is about making contact with oneself before trying to change oneself. Self-acceptance cannot begin while the body is still being rushed past, judged or silenced. For Shik, slowing down is the first movement toward healing, intimacy and presence.
Slowing Down is foundational to Sexuality Humanity because everything else begins here.
Shik treats slowing down as a necessary condition for self-awareness. Trauma, shame and judgment often produce automatic reactions: avoidance, defensiveness, dissociation, performance. To slow down is to interrupt that reflex and create enough space to actually feel what is happening in the body.
The work is therefore not simply about rest. It is about making contact with oneself before trying to change oneself. Self-acceptance cannot begin while the body is still being rushed past, judged or silenced. For Shik, slowing down is the first movement toward healing, intimacy and presence.
'Stalker'.
Stalker uses cosplay and the visual language of a famous film to explore the strange overlap between fantasy, identification and desire.
By entering an already recognisable cinematic role, Shik turns performance into a psychological question: how much of sexuality is lived directly, and how much is mediated through images, characters and narratives absorbed from culture? Cosplay allows a person to temporarily inhabit another identity, but it can also reveal parts of the self that feel safer to approach through fiction.
The work sits between play and projection. It asks whether fantasy hides the self—or sometimes gives it permission to emerge.
Stalker uses cosplay and the visual language of a famous film to explore the strange overlap between fantasy, identification and desire.
By entering an already recognisable cinematic role, Shik turns performance into a psychological question: how much of sexuality is lived directly, and how much is mediated through images, characters and narratives absorbed from culture? Cosplay allows a person to temporarily inhabit another identity, but it can also reveal parts of the self that feel safer to approach through fiction.
The work sits between play and projection. It asks whether fantasy hides the self—or sometimes gives it permission to emerge.
'Good enough'.
The body appears not as an ideal but as a question: enough for whom?
Good Enough confronts the way shame becomes internalised. Trauma and repeated judgment can teach a person to experience the body as something that must be corrected before it can deserve desire, affection or visibility. Shik reverses that logic. The work does not ask the body to become more acceptable; it asks why acceptance was made conditional in the first place.
Self-acceptance here is not self-admiration. It is the quieter and more difficult act of refusing to continue the punishment once imposed from outside.
The body appears not as an ideal but as a question: enough for whom?
Good Enough confronts the way shame becomes internalised. Trauma and repeated judgment can teach a person to experience the body as something that must be corrected before it can deserve desire, affection or visibility. Shik reverses that logic. The work does not ask the body to become more acceptable; it asks why acceptance was made conditional in the first place.
Self-acceptance here is not self-admiration. It is the quieter and more difficult act of refusing to continue the punishment once imposed from outside.
'Exciting girlfriend'.
The title reduces intimacy to a role: a woman is not simply loved, but expected to remain exciting.
Shik examines how sexuality can become performance under the pressure of acceptance. Trauma, insecurity and fear of abandonment can make desirability feel like protection: if one remains attractive, interesting or sexually available enough, perhaps connection will not disappear.
The work questions that bargain. Intimacy becomes psychologically safer only when the person no longer has to perform continuously in order to remain worthy of love.
The title reduces intimacy to a role: a woman is not simply loved, but expected to remain exciting.
Shik examines how sexuality can become performance under the pressure of acceptance. Trauma, insecurity and fear of abandonment can make desirability feel like protection: if one remains attractive, interesting or sexually available enough, perhaps connection will not disappear.
The work questions that bargain. Intimacy becomes psychologically safer only when the person no longer has to perform continuously in order to remain worthy of love.
'Eros'.
Desire pulls the viewer toward the body before understanding has caught up.
Eros treats sexuality as one of the most powerful forces in Shik's practice because it can open the self and endanger it at the same time. Desire can create connection, pleasure and renewal, but it can also reactivate shame, dependency and old wounds.
The work refuses to divide sexuality into either liberation or danger. Its power lies precisely in that ambiguity. To reclaim desire is not to make it harmless, but to enter it with greater awareness of where freedom ends and repetition begins.
Desire pulls the viewer toward the body before understanding has caught up.
Eros treats sexuality as one of the most powerful forces in Shik's practice because it can open the self and endanger it at the same time. Desire can create connection, pleasure and renewal, but it can also reactivate shame, dependency and old wounds.
The work refuses to divide sexuality into either liberation or danger. Its power lies precisely in that ambiguity. To reclaim desire is not to make it harmless, but to enter it with greater awareness of where freedom ends and repetition begins.
'Everyday I live..'
A disabled body becomes the centre of the work, not as an object of pity, but as a human presence moving through the fact of daily life. The title matters: existence is not heroic only in extraordinary moments, but in the repeated act of continuing.
Shik treats the body here through resilience. Life can be challenging, unequal and physically demanding, yet dignity does not disappear with difficulty. Everyday I live... insists on the value of persistence and on the right to remain visible beyond limitation, judgment or reduced expectation.
A disabled body becomes the centre of the work, not as an object of pity, but as a human presence moving through the fact of daily life. The title matters: existence is not heroic only in extraordinary moments, but in the repeated act of continuing.
Shik treats the body here through resilience. Life can be challenging, unequal and physically demanding, yet dignity does not disappear with difficulty. Everyday I live... insists on the value of persistence and on the right to remain visible beyond limitation, judgment or reduced expectation.
'Fragile Soul'.
Physical exposure makes vulnerability visible, but the deeper vulnerability remains psychological.
Fragile Soul examines the contradiction between sexuality and protection. A person may appear sexually confident while carrying fear, shame or injury that remains invisible to the observer. Shik resists the assumption that erotic openness means emotional invulnerability.
The work asks whether intimacy becomes possible only when fragility is no longer treated as weakness—and whether accepting one's own vulnerability can be the beginning of reclaiming a body that learned first to defend itself.
Physical exposure makes vulnerability visible, but the deeper vulnerability remains psychological.
Fragile Soul examines the contradiction between sexuality and protection. A person may appear sexually confident while carrying fear, shame or injury that remains invisible to the observer. Shik resists the assumption that erotic openness means emotional invulnerability.
The work asks whether intimacy becomes possible only when fragility is no longer treated as weakness—and whether accepting one's own vulnerability can be the beginning of reclaiming a body that learned first to defend itself.
'Label Me'.
The title exposes one of the most basic social mechanisms: people often feel unable to understand another human being until they have named, classified or defined them.
Shik examines the need to label as both practical and dangerous. Categories can help communication, but they can also reduce the complexity of a person to one visible feature, identity or role. Within Sexuality Humanity, the work becomes especially charged: sexuality, gender and bodily difference are often approached through labels before the human being is truly encountered. The work asks what is gained by classification—and what is lost.
The title exposes one of the most basic social mechanisms: people often feel unable to understand another human being until they have named, classified or defined them.
Shik examines the need to label as both practical and dangerous. Categories can help communication, but they can also reduce the complexity of a person to one visible feature, identity or role. Within Sexuality Humanity, the work becomes especially charged: sexuality, gender and bodily difference are often approached through labels before the human being is truly encountered. The work asks what is gained by classification—and what is lost.
'Flow'.
The body enters a state of movement, release or transition without insisting on a fixed destination. The work resists the pressure to know in advance what everything must become.
Shik approaches Flow as a lesson in trust. Healing, desire and self-acceptance are rarely linear processes; they unfold through uncertainty. The importance lies not in controlling the final outcome, but in remaining present enough to follow what is changing. In this sense, Flow is about surrender without passivity: a willingness to move with life, even when clarity has not yet arrived.
The body enters a state of movement, release or transition without insisting on a fixed destination. The work resists the pressure to know in advance what everything must become.
Shik approaches Flow as a lesson in trust. Healing, desire and self-acceptance are rarely linear processes; they unfold through uncertainty. The importance lies not in controlling the final outcome, but in remaining present enough to follow what is changing. In this sense, Flow is about surrender without passivity: a willingness to move with life, even when clarity has not yet arrived.
'52'.
The title carries the directness of age, but the work itself refuses the idea that life can be cleanly divided into beginnings, peaks and endings. A person can still be becoming at any point.
Shik uses 52. to reflect on aging with unusual openness. There is no age at which uncertainty disappears, no age at which one is permanently lost, and no age at which one can no longer be found again. The work challenges youth-centred notions of beauty and transformation, insisting that reinvention, vulnerability and self-discovery remain possible across the whole span of life.
The title carries the directness of age, but the work itself refuses the idea that life can be cleanly divided into beginnings, peaks and endings. A person can still be becoming at any point.
Shik uses 52. to reflect on aging with unusual openness. There is no age at which uncertainty disappears, no age at which one is permanently lost, and no age at which one can no longer be found again. The work challenges youth-centred notions of beauty and transformation, insisting that reinvention, vulnerability and self-discovery remain possible across the whole span of life.
'Freedom That Makes Us Human'.
The work treats freedom not as abstraction, but as something deeply embodied: the capacity to exist, choose, desire and become without complete submission to shame or control.
For Shik, freedom is one of the essential conditions of humanity. It is what allows a person to move beyond mere survival and into selfhood. Within Sexuality Humanity, this freedom includes the right to inhabit one's own body without fear, to feel without apology, and to claim inner and outer autonomy. The work asks what kind of freedom is necessary before a person can truly become themselves.
The work treats freedom not as abstraction, but as something deeply embodied: the capacity to exist, choose, desire and become without complete submission to shame or control.
For Shik, freedom is one of the essential conditions of humanity. It is what allows a person to move beyond mere survival and into selfhood. Within Sexuality Humanity, this freedom includes the right to inhabit one's own body without fear, to feel without apology, and to claim inner and outer autonomy. The work asks what kind of freedom is necessary before a person can truly become themselves.
'Breath In'.
Breath In returns the project to the most essential act of being alive. Before identity, sexuality, fear, trauma or desire, there is breath.
Shik treats breathing as the body's most reliable form of continuity. Thoughts can spiral, relationships can fail, and life can become unstable, but breath remains the most immediate anchor we have. The work is about returning to that point of inner steadiness. Healing does not always begin with explanation; sometimes it begins with simply staying present long enough to breathe. In this sense, Breath In is about survival, grounding and trust in the body’s quiet persistence.
Breath In returns the project to the most essential act of being alive. Before identity, sexuality, fear, trauma or desire, there is breath.
Shik treats breathing as the body's most reliable form of continuity. Thoughts can spiral, relationships can fail, and life can become unstable, but breath remains the most immediate anchor we have. The work is about returning to that point of inner steadiness. Healing does not always begin with explanation; sometimes it begins with simply staying present long enough to breathe. In this sense, Breath In is about survival, grounding and trust in the body’s quiet persistence.
'Dream On'.
The image holds onto dream not as escapism, but as a necessary inner force. Desire, hope and imagination remain alive even when life becomes painful, disappointing or difficult.
Shik treats dreaming as an act of resistance. Trauma and judgment can narrow a person's sense of possibility; dreams reopen it. Dream On argues that healing is not only about understanding pain, but also about preserving the capacity to want more than pain. The work insists on the importance of continuing to follow the dream, not because it guarantees fulfilment, but because it keeps the self oriented toward life.
The image holds onto dream not as escapism, but as a necessary inner force. Desire, hope and imagination remain alive even when life becomes painful, disappointing or difficult.
Shik treats dreaming as an act of resistance. Trauma and judgment can narrow a person's sense of possibility; dreams reopen it. Dream On argues that healing is not only about understanding pain, but also about preserving the capacity to want more than pain. The work insists on the importance of continuing to follow the dream, not because it guarantees fulfilment, but because it keeps the self oriented toward life.
'I Belong'.
The title makes a claim that is simple, but never small. To say “I belong” is to resist shame, exclusion and the idea that acceptance must be earned through change or compliance.
Within Sexuality Humanity, belonging begins with self-acceptance. Shik treats it not as social approval alone, but as the internal recognition that one has the right to exist fully in one’s body, one’s emotions and one’s truth. The work asks what happens when belonging is no longer begged for from the outside, but claimed from within. It becomes an act of dignity.
The title makes a claim that is simple, but never small. To say “I belong” is to resist shame, exclusion and the idea that acceptance must be earned through change or compliance.
Within Sexuality Humanity, belonging begins with self-acceptance. Shik treats it not as social approval alone, but as the internal recognition that one has the right to exist fully in one’s body, one’s emotions and one’s truth. The work asks what happens when belonging is no longer begged for from the outside, but claimed from within. It becomes an act of dignity.
'May everything come true...May they believe...'
This work, like Stalker, enters the philosophical atmosphere of Tarkovsky’s film: the zone as a place where desire, faith and truth become unstable.
Shik uses that reference to explore longing. People want wishes to come true, but they also struggle to believe deeply enough in what they want, or in their own right to receive it. The work inhabits the fragile space between desire and belief. It asks whether hope is powerful because it promises fulfilment—or because it keeps the inner world alive even in uncertainty.
This work, like Stalker, enters the philosophical atmosphere of Tarkovsky’s film: the zone as a place where desire, faith and truth become unstable.
Shik uses that reference to explore longing. People want wishes to come true, but they also struggle to believe deeply enough in what they want, or in their own right to receive it. The work inhabits the fragile space between desire and belief. It asks whether hope is powerful because it promises fulfilment—or because it keeps the inner world alive even in uncertainty.
'No Hate!'
The title is direct because the refusal is absolute. Hate destroys both the person it targets and the person who carries it.
Shik positions No Hate! as an ethical response to shame, judgment and exclusion. In a project rooted in sexuality and self-acceptance, hatred often begins with the inability to tolerate difference—difference in bodies, desire, vulnerability or freedom. The work insists on another possibility: to meet the self and others without hostility. This is not naïve optimism. It is a deliberate refusal to let fear harden into cruelty.
The title is direct because the refusal is absolute. Hate destroys both the person it targets and the person who carries it.
Shik positions No Hate! as an ethical response to shame, judgment and exclusion. In a project rooted in sexuality and self-acceptance, hatred often begins with the inability to tolerate difference—difference in bodies, desire, vulnerability or freedom. The work insists on another possibility: to meet the self and others without hostility. This is not naïve optimism. It is a deliberate refusal to let fear harden into cruelty.
'No fear'.
The work does not romanticise fearlessness. Instead, it distinguishes between the absence of fear and the courage to continue despite it.
Shik understands bravery as persistence. Fear is part of being alive, especially when one is vulnerable, healing, exposed or trying to change. No Fear therefore does not deny fear; it refuses its authority. The work honours the body and mind that keep moving, speaking, loving and becoming, even while fear remains present. Courage appears not as purity, but as action under pressure.
The work does not romanticise fearlessness. Instead, it distinguishes between the absence of fear and the courage to continue despite it.
Shik understands bravery as persistence. Fear is part of being alive, especially when one is vulnerable, healing, exposed or trying to change. No Fear therefore does not deny fear; it refuses its authority. The work honours the body and mind that keep moving, speaking, loving and becoming, even while fear remains present. Courage appears not as purity, but as action under pressure.
'Chaos'.
The visual field resists perfect order. Movement, feeling and form remain unsettled, reflecting the instability through which human beings often have to live.
Shik treats chaos not only as threat, but as condition. Healing, desire and identity formation often occur in states that feel disorganised, contradictory or emotionally excessive. Chaos asks how one navigates such states without collapsing inside them. The work values the capacity to remain responsive within disorder—to find orientation without demanding that life first become clean, controlled or simple.
The visual field resists perfect order. Movement, feeling and form remain unsettled, reflecting the instability through which human beings often have to live.
Shik treats chaos not only as threat, but as condition. Healing, desire and identity formation often occur in states that feel disorganised, contradictory or emotionally excessive. Chaos asks how one navigates such states without collapsing inside them. The work values the capacity to remain responsive within disorder—to find orientation without demanding that life first become clean, controlled or simple.
'Personal Wounds'.
The body bears its history. Wounds—emotional, relational, sexual, psychological—do not simply disappear because one wishes them to.
Shik approaches wounds through self-acceptance rather than concealment. Personal Wounds argues that freedom does not begin by pretending injury never happened; it begins by acknowledging it without allowing it to define the entire self. Trauma work requires recognition before release. The work therefore treats wounds as real, intimate and transformative—but not permanent prisons. Acceptance becomes the first step toward no longer being governed by them.
The body bears its history. Wounds—emotional, relational, sexual, psychological—do not simply disappear because one wishes them to.
Shik approaches wounds through self-acceptance rather than concealment. Personal Wounds argues that freedom does not begin by pretending injury never happened; it begins by acknowledging it without allowing it to define the entire self. Trauma work requires recognition before release. The work therefore treats wounds as real, intimate and transformative—but not permanent prisons. Acceptance becomes the first step toward no longer being governed by them.
'Human'.
The title performs a necessary reduction. Beneath sexuality, fantasy, shame, role and judgment, what remains is the human being.
Shik uses Human as a release into existence. The work strips away the pressure to be exemplary, cured, pure or fully understood. It insists on the legitimacy of limitation, contradiction and vulnerability. Within Sexuality Humanity, this is a central gesture: the body does not need to justify itself through perfection. To be human is already enough. Acceptance begins when existence is no longer treated as evidence against the self.
The title performs a necessary reduction. Beneath sexuality, fantasy, shame, role and judgment, what remains is the human being.
Shik uses Human as a release into existence. The work strips away the pressure to be exemplary, cured, pure or fully understood. It insists on the legitimacy of limitation, contradiction and vulnerability. Within Sexuality Humanity, this is a central gesture: the body does not need to justify itself through perfection. To be human is already enough. Acceptance begins when existence is no longer treated as evidence against the self.
'Afrodite'.
The title invokes beauty, desire and the mythic feminine, yet Shik resists reducing the figure to idealised perfection. The goddess remains recognisably human.
Aphrodite examines how beauty is culturally worshipped and personally inhabited. Desire can empower, but idealisation can also turn a body into an image for others rather than a self for itself. Shik reclaims the feminine not as untouchable perfection, but as a living, vulnerable and desiring presence. The work asks whether beauty can be returned from symbol to person—felt rather than merely displayed.
The title invokes beauty, desire and the mythic feminine, yet Shik resists reducing the figure to idealised perfection. The goddess remains recognisably human.
Aphrodite examines how beauty is culturally worshipped and personally inhabited. Desire can empower, but idealisation can also turn a body into an image for others rather than a self for itself. Shik reclaims the feminine not as untouchable perfection, but as a living, vulnerable and desiring presence. The work asks whether beauty can be returned from symbol to person—felt rather than merely displayed.
'Availability, Emotions and Risk'.
The work brings together three conditions without which intimacy cannot become real. To be available is to be open; to feel is to be affected; to risk is to accept uncertainty.
Shik treats love and sexuality as impossible without exposure. A protected self may remain safe, but it also remains unreachable. Availability, Emotions and Risk examines the cost of real connection: another person can only meet what is genuinely present. The work recognises that openness is frightening, especially after hurt or trauma, yet it also proposes that intimacy demands precisely this movement toward uncertainty.
The work brings together three conditions without which intimacy cannot become real. To be available is to be open; to feel is to be affected; to risk is to accept uncertainty.
Shik treats love and sexuality as impossible without exposure. A protected self may remain safe, but it also remains unreachable. Availability, Emotions and Risk examines the cost of real connection: another person can only meet what is genuinely present. The work recognises that openness is frightening, especially after hurt or trauma, yet it also proposes that intimacy demands precisely this movement toward uncertainty.
'IN THE ZONE'.
Another work linked to Stalker, In the Zone enters a state in which external reality and inner reality no longer remain clearly separate. The zone becomes a place of testing, desire and transformation.
For Shik, this is also a psychological space. People pass through zones of uncertainty when they are becoming something new, facing themselves honestly or approaching what they most deeply want. The work is about concentration, vulnerability and faith in process. One does not enter the zone fully protected. It requires exposure to what may be found there.
Another work linked to Stalker, In the Zone enters a state in which external reality and inner reality no longer remain clearly separate. The zone becomes a place of testing, desire and transformation.
For Shik, this is also a psychological space. People pass through zones of uncertainty when they are becoming something new, facing themselves honestly or approaching what they most deeply want. The work is about concentration, vulnerability and faith in process. One does not enter the zone fully protected. It requires exposure to what may be found there.
'Loving Kindness plus Attachment'.
This work asks what love actually is when stripped of romance alone. Love is not only intensity, possession or desire; it is also care, recognition and the willingness to remain in relation.
Shik connects attachment to loving-kindness in order to distinguish healthy connection from dependence or control. Attachment is part of human life; people need bonds. But love becomes fuller when attachment is guided by gentleness rather than fear. The work suggests that true connection protects without imprisoning, remains close without erasing difference, and allows the other person to exist freely rather than as a possession.
This work asks what love actually is when stripped of romance alone. Love is not only intensity, possession or desire; it is also care, recognition and the willingness to remain in relation.
Shik connects attachment to loving-kindness in order to distinguish healthy connection from dependence or control. Attachment is part of human life; people need bonds. But love becomes fuller when attachment is guided by gentleness rather than fear. The work suggests that true connection protects without imprisoning, remains close without erasing difference, and allows the other person to exist freely rather than as a possession.
'Love Sign'.
The image approaches love through ambiguity rather than certainty. Signs of love can appear tender, confusing, mixed or contradictory.
Shik is interested in how difficult love can be to read. Desire, care, dependency, projection, fear and habit can all resemble one another from the outside. Love Sign therefore does not offer a single clear symbol of what love is. Instead, it reflects the emotional confusion that often accompanies intimate life. The work asks whether love is something easily recognised—or something people spend much of their lives trying to distinguish from everything that only looks like it.
The image approaches love through ambiguity rather than certainty. Signs of love can appear tender, confusing, mixed or contradictory.
Shik is interested in how difficult love can be to read. Desire, care, dependency, projection, fear and habit can all resemble one another from the outside. Love Sign therefore does not offer a single clear symbol of what love is. Instead, it reflects the emotional confusion that often accompanies intimate life. The work asks whether love is something easily recognised—or something people spend much of their lives trying to distinguish from everything that only looks like it.
'Surrender'.
Surrender is not about defeat. It is about the moment when control loosens and the body stops fighting what it can no longer transform by force.
Shik approaches surrender as a difficult form of freedom. Trauma, shame and fear often keep a person in a state of tension, as though survival depends on never softening. But healing sometimes requires the opposite movement: allowing oneself to release, to trust, to feel, and to stop gripping what has already exhausted the self. The work suggests that surrender can be powerful precisely because it makes room for something new to enter.
Surrender is not about defeat. It is about the moment when control loosens and the body stops fighting what it can no longer transform by force.
Shik approaches surrender as a difficult form of freedom. Trauma, shame and fear often keep a person in a state of tension, as though survival depends on never softening. But healing sometimes requires the opposite movement: allowing oneself to release, to trust, to feel, and to stop gripping what has already exhausted the self. The work suggests that surrender can be powerful precisely because it makes room for something new to enter.
'Fuckaland'.
With its provocative title, Fuckaland turns the absurdity of life into both humour and truth. The work does not simplify existence by mocking it; it reveals how strange, excessive and contradictory human life already is.
Shik uses absurdity as a form of clarity. In all its seriousness—trauma, sexuality, love, shame, identity—life also remains bizarrely simple: bodies desire, suffer, search, attach, and continue. Fuckaland acknowledges that the human condition can be chaotic, messy and at times almost ridiculous. Yet within that simplicity lies release. The work allows laughter, irony and rawness to coexist with vulnerability, reminding us that being human is not only tragic or profound, but also deeply absurd.
With its provocative title, Fuckaland turns the absurdity of life into both humour and truth. The work does not simplify existence by mocking it; it reveals how strange, excessive and contradictory human life already is.
Shik uses absurdity as a form of clarity. In all its seriousness—trauma, sexuality, love, shame, identity—life also remains bizarrely simple: bodies desire, suffer, search, attach, and continue. Fuckaland acknowledges that the human condition can be chaotic, messy and at times almost ridiculous. Yet within that simplicity lies release. The work allows laughter, irony and rawness to coexist with vulnerability, reminding us that being human is not only tragic or profound, but also deeply absurd.
'Dunes of Wisdom'.
The title suggests a landscape shaped slowly by time, pressure and movement. Like dunes, wisdom is not fixed; it forms through repetition, erosion, instability and the ability to keep being remade.
Shik approaches wisdom as something bodily and lived, not merely intellectual. It comes through experience, suffering, desire, mistakes and endurance. The work reflects a mature understanding that insight is rarely sudden and rarely neat. Wisdom shifts shape as life shifts shape. In this sense, the work is also spiritual: knowledge deepens when the self learns to move with impermanence rather than against it.
The title suggests a landscape shaped slowly by time, pressure and movement. Like dunes, wisdom is not fixed; it forms through repetition, erosion, instability and the ability to keep being remade.
Shik approaches wisdom as something bodily and lived, not merely intellectual. It comes through experience, suffering, desire, mistakes and endurance. The work reflects a mature understanding that insight is rarely sudden and rarely neat. Wisdom shifts shape as life shifts shape. In this sense, the work is also spiritual: knowledge deepens when the self learns to move with impermanence rather than against it.
'Changing Routes'.
Changing Routes is about the courage to alter direction. Trauma, shame and old patterns often make people repeat what is familiar, even when it no longer leads anywhere alive.
Shik treats change not as betrayal of the past, but as a sign of growth. A person does not heal by remaining loyal to every road that once felt necessary. Sometimes survival requires one route; later, life requires another. The work is therefore about reorientation — the ambitious willingness to choose movement over stagnation, even without full certainty about where the new path leads.
Changing Routes is about the courage to alter direction. Trauma, shame and old patterns often make people repeat what is familiar, even when it no longer leads anywhere alive.
Shik treats change not as betrayal of the past, but as a sign of growth. A person does not heal by remaining loyal to every road that once felt necessary. Sometimes survival requires one route; later, life requires another. The work is therefore about reorientation — the ambitious willingness to choose movement over stagnation, even without full certainty about where the new path leads.
'Emotional Intelligence'.
Emotional Intelligence is about the difficult art of recognising, carrying and responding to feeling without being ruled by it.
Shik does not present emotional intelligence as politeness or social smoothness. It is something deeper: the ability to remain aware of one’s own emotional reality while also recognising the emotional worlds of others. In a project shaped by trauma and self-acceptance, this becomes essential. Healing requires more than expression alone; it requires understanding what one feels, where it comes from, and how to meet it without violence or denial.
Emotional Intelligence is about the difficult art of recognising, carrying and responding to feeling without being ruled by it.
Shik does not present emotional intelligence as politeness or social smoothness. It is something deeper: the ability to remain aware of one’s own emotional reality while also recognising the emotional worlds of others. In a project shaped by trauma and self-acceptance, this becomes essential. Healing requires more than expression alone; it requires understanding what one feels, where it comes from, and how to meet it without violence or denial.
'Every Drop'.
The title turns attention toward accumulation. No wound, no desire, no act of care, no memory, no effort exists entirely alone; everything gathers, slowly shaping the self.
Shik uses Every Drop to reflect on the way healing and becoming are built incrementally. People often search for one decisive transformation, but life is more often formed through small repetitions — every touch, every tear, every risk, every moment of tenderness, every failure, every return. The work recognises that what appears minor can carry immense weight. Every drop contributes to who we become.
The title turns attention toward accumulation. No wound, no desire, no act of care, no memory, no effort exists entirely alone; everything gathers, slowly shaping the self.
Shik uses Every Drop to reflect on the way healing and becoming are built incrementally. People often search for one decisive transformation, but life is more often formed through small repetitions — every touch, every tear, every risk, every moment of tenderness, every failure, every return. The work recognises that what appears minor can carry immense weight. Every drop contributes to who we become.
'Self Acceptance'.
This self-portrait is one of the clearest centres of the project. Shik turns the camera toward herself not to construct an ideal image, but to confront the body and self that must ultimately be accepted from within.
Self Acceptance is not vanity, and not passive approval. It is a difficult inner act: refusing to continue the rejection, shame or fragmentation that may once have come from outside. The self-portrait becomes an assertion that healing begins when the body is no longer treated as a problem to solve. To accept oneself is not to become finished. It is to stop making self-hatred the condition for transformation.
This self-portrait is one of the clearest centres of the project. Shik turns the camera toward herself not to construct an ideal image, but to confront the body and self that must ultimately be accepted from within.
Self Acceptance is not vanity, and not passive approval. It is a difficult inner act: refusing to continue the rejection, shame or fragmentation that may once have come from outside. The self-portrait becomes an assertion that healing begins when the body is no longer treated as a problem to solve. To accept oneself is not to become finished. It is to stop making self-hatred the condition for transformation.
'PTBDSMSD'.
The title fuses BDSM and PTSD, making the relationship between trauma, sexuality and repetition impossible to ignore.
Shik approaches the work with unusual honesty. Sexuality is not separate from psychological history; desire can carry memory, fear, reenactment, control, shame, release and attempts at mastery. PTBDSMSD does not reduce BDSM to pathology, nor does it romanticise trauma. Instead, it asks how pain and pleasure, power and vulnerability, can become entangled inside the body. The work is about the importance of awareness: without it, past wounds may quietly organise present desire. With it, even difficult material may begin to be reclaimed rather than unconsciously repeated.
The title fuses BDSM and PTSD, making the relationship between trauma, sexuality and repetition impossible to ignore.
Shik approaches the work with unusual honesty. Sexuality is not separate from psychological history; desire can carry memory, fear, reenactment, control, shame, release and attempts at mastery. PTBDSMSD does not reduce BDSM to pathology, nor does it romanticise trauma. Instead, it asks how pain and pleasure, power and vulnerability, can become entangled inside the body. The work is about the importance of awareness: without it, past wounds may quietly organise present desire. With it, even difficult material may begin to be reclaimed rather than unconsciously repeated.
'Come With Me'.
The title is direct, seductive and ambitious. It is an invitation, but also a proposition: movement is possible, and it can be shared.
Shik treats Come With Me as a work of aspiration. To invite another person to come along is already to imagine a future, a direction, a becoming. In the context of Sexuality Humanity, the invitation is not only romantic or erotic. It is existential. Come with me into life, into risk, into freedom, into growth, into the unknown. The work reflects the ambitious force running through the project: the refusal to remain where pain first located the self.
The title is direct, seductive and ambitious. It is an invitation, but also a proposition: movement is possible, and it can be shared.
Shik treats Come With Me as a work of aspiration. To invite another person to come along is already to imagine a future, a direction, a becoming. In the context of Sexuality Humanity, the invitation is not only romantic or erotic. It is existential. Come with me into life, into risk, into freedom, into growth, into the unknown. The work reflects the ambitious force running through the project: the refusal to remain where pain first located the self.
