Street View Photo Shoot.
This set is using the new Ai with something called Textual inversion, which is "supposed" to generate, the same person no matter what. Well theory is not the same as practice as you can see in the images. Also having some issue with more complex poses, but overall it seems to generate more art and fashion style looks and poses, which is great. Still lots to learn ans hopefully improving as I go. Turned around what could have been a total disaster into something positive and a new learning expereince for me.
This is also an idea I have always wanted to do in real life, but never got a chance to do it. Go by the book and have miles of red tape, or go risky gurilla style . I thought about both but sadly never took off.
In the pulsing heart of Sydney, where the harbour’s salt-tang hung heavy in the air and the skyscrapers cast their shadows like ancient giants, Lilliana walked with a graceful, measured pace. Her hair was a waterfall of blonde waves, cascading down to her shoulders, an inheritance from her Nordic ancestors, who had known skies less blue than Australia’s. Her eyes were as clear as the Southern Ocean in summer light, yet they held a wariness, like one who has seen the storm before it breaks.
The city was alive with its daily symphony: the clatter of trams on rails, the hum of traffic, and the low murmur of thousands unaware that their lives were but threads in Australia’s grand tapestry. As she approached the famous George Street crossing, her stomach gave a soft flutter. The air was thick with ozone and possibility, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of uncertainty.
The photographer, Master Enoch, stood apart from the chaos, a solitary figure in a world of motion. His eyes met hers, and he nodded once, a gesture that was both command and reassurance. The moment hung like a sword balanced on its edge, then she reached for her blouse.
The fabric fell away as if it were a second skin, something she had not known since her first steps on the catwalk. Her breath came in short gasps, each one lifting the material until she stood there, bared to the world, save for the high heels and the leather handbag slung over her shoulder.
The shock of exposure was acute. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to cover herself, retreat behind layers of fabric and pretense. Yet she stood rooted, her feet planted on the hard concrete as if they were ancient roots digging deep into soil. The first few clicks of the camera were like gunshots in a silent forest, jolting her from her frozen state.
And then, something shifted.
The heat of the sun on her skin was no longer just heat but a living thing, wrapping around her, grounding her to the earth. The whispers of the crowd became not invasive gazes but a symphony of life. Each click of the camera was a note in this song, and she began to move, her body flowing like water through the frame. Her steps were no longer those of a model walking a line but of a wild creature free from its cage.
The world around her faded into abstraction. The thousands on George Street were not hundreds of pairs of eyes but part of the same dance, their movements synchronized with hers. Her body, once a source of trembling fear, became an instrument—an extension of herself that she had never fully known before.
The heat grew intense, yet it felt right. Like nature itself was baptizing her in its fire. The camera’s lens was no longer a judging eye but a mirror reflecting back her essence. She was not just Lilliana, the girl who had once feared her own reflection, she was Light, fluid, untamed.
And so she stood there, naked under the midday sun, until the heat and the moment consumed her entirely. When it was over, she found herself still bare in a world that had stopped feeling strange. The bag of clothes she had brought now seemed like an unnecessary burden—an artifact from another life.
With a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, she stepped out into the street, the city’s breath warm on her skin. Heads turned, but they were not gazes of shock or condemnation. They were acknowledgments of truth, like seeing a deer in its natural state, wild, free, and unashamed.
She walked through the crowded streets, past the glass towers of power, and into her own story, one where she was no longer just Lilliana, the model. She was living art, a nude truth in a world that had forgotten how to be honest. And when she reached home, she did not dress, for what more did one need than the sun on their skin and the earth beneath their feet?
Lilliana doesn't have a "models page", but she does have a members only gallery that you can view HERE
Just to be abundantly clear....none of these "women" exist in real life. They are 100% computer generated by Ai. All the Ai "models" are generated to represent "women" who are over 18 years of age.
Down the bottom are two images I am trying textual Inversions (they create a very specific "person" whose looks are meant to be the same across all images it generates. Usually they are trained to generate a fictional person, but can also be used to train a specific person. I have several others and thinking of creating my own using some of the Nude Muse Models. If I get some extra time (and my computers holds together), I will see if I can train one, as it seems to be more light weight than training a full Ai model.
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