MRS

(260//365) #throwbackthursday to a self-portrait shot back when I used to model for many of my own shoots. Wish I still did that, wish I still made time to actually shoot. On a related note, every now and again (especially since I deleted my Flickr) I get the urge to remove myself and my work from much of the internet. Maybe it’s my hermit tendencies, maybe it’s the fact that I oftentimes neglect to keep all of the sites I have an account on active and current. I just don’t have/make the time like I used to and that’s a drag, especially since I used to have such an online following. I feel like I’ve lost much of it anymore. People have given up on me. I have hundreds of followers on tumblr, had thousands on Flickr, several thousand on Facebook and thousands on Instagram (although here on IG I get the feeling they’re mostly dead accounts) and yet I get a fraction of the interaction from people that I used to.
Perhaps I’m just on a downward slope and I hit my peak years ago. What a bummer of a thought, eh?


Maybe I should delete all my accounts and just start over and start fresh. I’m seriously thinking I’ll do that here on IG since I get the feeling many of my followers aren’t real.

Scrap everything and start again? Or just scrap everything…I’m restless. And who out there really even cares? I feel like I’m dwelling on something that hardly matters!

18 Sep 14   –   2 notes

Stop-motion?

Point me to your favorite stop-motion videos! I need inspiration for an assignment and I’m desperate!

18 Sep 14   –   0 notes

The Normal Wood Creates the Sea (2014)
Model: Shanna Keyes
© Rebecca Tillett

18 Sep 14   –   151 notes

Où habitez-vous?
Wo wohnen Sie?
¿Dónde vive?
Dove vivi?
I live in your heart.
Et a chaque oiseaux son nid est beau.
Underneath your bones 
and between the muscle.
Did you forget?
You live in every pore of my skin
Carne. La viande. Le carni. Fleisch.
Every molecule and idea of you
before you prevailed 
as a sovereign being.
I can’t keep reminding you
to look for me there.
And I can’t keep gasping for air.
Yo voy a dejar ir.

Liberation.

(2014)

16 Sep 14   –   0 notes

(255//365) Preview of my shoot with the beautiful @shannakeyes this cold morning.

13 Sep 14   –   0 notes

(251//365) I wanna miss you and want you and have to wait in painful and glorious anticipation to see you. I wanna love you. I wanna finally see you and pretend to smile but really smile and be coy and cute and overwhelmed with relief at your presence. I wanna be ecstatic and loving and completely vulnerable with you but not too vulnerable because I’m no stranger to pain but I still despise it. And I wanna hold you and breathe in and out and in again and hold you inside me just for a minute until I need to breathe again. I wanna watch you cook us dinner with your crafty two hands and smile at me every few seconds when you catch me watching you. I wanna wonder how I lived so long without you. And I wanna share a meal with you and have some drinks and watch a wonderfully stupid movie. I wanna hear you laugh. And I wanna rest my head on you and stroke the skin on your sunburnt arms and feel completely safe in you. I wanna attempt in vain to say thank you awkwardly or tell you to shut up when you tell me I’m beautiful for the 87th time. I wanna be beautiful for you.

And I wanna sit outside in the dark except for the light of the distant moon with you and marvel at the perfectly ludicrous idea that men have traveled that far from home. We’re both far from home and yet here we are - contently home. I wanna get high with you and listen as you struggle to make sense and we laugh in unison and we take another hit as we both claim we shouldn’t take another hit. And I wanna discuss all the beautiful places we both wanna run away to and pretend that turning dreams into reality is as easy as throwing the blanket off you on a chilly morning and jumping out of bed in uncomfortable but exhilarating anticipation of another day. And I wanna talk about your family and your past and my family and my past and all the hurt and I wanna be a refuge for you and you for me. I wanna wish I had been there through all your hard times and wonder where I had been and apologize for having not been there. And I wanna watch you watching the strangers walking down the dimly lit street laughing and wonder what they’re doing out so late on a Tuesday night.

09 Sep 14   –   1 note

(250//365) I am my mother and father’s only child and thus I am inherently the sole creation and survivor of their violent and combustible union. I am the only witness and I am the lonely product of a regrettable amalgamation. I am endlessly challenged to be the lone positive result and I am alone in this undertaking.

08 Sep 14   –   1 note

(247//365) I can’t look at the sky and not think of you. I can’t look at each and every single drop, every reflection of your eyes in the mirrors of the falling rain. I can’t not think of you when the smells of the wet earth conquer my body like an invading army at the battle of I Love You More Than love, sweet on my tongue, the way you look at me and smile, the sun falling softly behind the shifting line of the horizon, every single second of pain you’ve shared and nursed me through always so patiently and all the scars and lines in your worn and beautiful skin. I can’t not think of you when I think of war and softness and my savage rumbling heart trembling in the cold fall moisture. And I can’t not think of you when it’s grasped firmly in your hard tempestuous and tender hands, bloody and tired and surrendering contently to your advances.

05 Sep 14   –   3 notes

(246//365) “Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?” {John Keats} (at Denver Pavilions Mall - 16th Street)

04 Sep 14   –   0 notes

(235//365) “Chico’s and Chappelle were awesome. The tacos were so so tasty - and the show was hilarious. Jokes about sex, Farmington, NM Walmarts,
indians, alcoholics, el paso, etc.
And the time spent with Adam was great. We got along great and it was so nice to see him.
I can’t wait for this week to be over -
not because I’m moving but because
I can’t wait to see him again.
He and his step-dad will be here Friday - which is when we’ll do most of our moving. And Saturday we’re leaving.
leaving.
leaving.”

That’s what I wrote the day after seeing Dave Chappelle back in the summer of 2004 at a small club in El Paso, about a week before I was set to move away from my hometown for the first time in my life to be with my boyfriend and give the rest of the world a chance. Twenty-one years old and still so wonderfully trusting. It’s funny how small and not-scary that seems to me now when, at the time, it was the scariest thing I’d ever done. Cathartic that Chappelle seems to appear during such changeovers in my life.

Great show tonight.

(at Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre)

24 Aug 14   –   0 notes

(234//365) “Fat No More!” A glimpse into my weightloss photo journal, circa 2007. The ultimate in weekly motivation. (Warning: Boobies!)

23 Aug 14   –   5 notes

(228//365) A bed in disarray the morning after passing out and bring carried there at the embarrassingly early hour of 10:30 because I both smoked and drank way too much. These are my 30s, aren’t they? We work all week for the weekend and once we get there, we’re too exhausted to stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

17 Aug 14   –   0 notes