Rebecca Tillett: Photography & Design Photography & Design2015-07-30T13:41:53Z http://rebeccatillett.com/feed/atom/WordPress Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Sex swing]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2892 2015-07-30T13:41:53Z 2015-07-30T13:41:53Z Issue 5 of Fluffer Magazine is out which means my most recent column is out as well!
Remember, a print copy is less than $35 and a digital copy is a steal at less than $6 and trust me, it’s totally worth it. The work showcased in this magazine is phenomenal!

We’re now living in an age in which religion and politics can’t seem to exist without the other; a time when reading stories in the news about young women who were banned from dances or sent home from school because their shoulders were bare, or their dresses didn’t drape past their knees is normal, a time in which the rulers of social media dictate the acceptable parts of a female body and the shameful ones. We’re living in a time in which many grade schools are ignorantly choosing to teach abstinence (scratching their heads at the rising pregnancy and STD rate), a time in which the strides women made in the past century are under constant threat. We’re consistently being judged and schooled in the ways of a righteous and moral existence by men who keep mistresses, fuck gay male prostitutes and molest their little sisters, all while voting against laws that would give women, minorities and gays equal rights. It’s one classic case of do as I say, not as I do after another and the obvious and blatant hypocrisy is stomach-churning.

Fluffer Magazine

Fluffer Magazine

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[the burden of filling the vacant spaces]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2889 2015-07-28T17:29:45Z 2015-07-28T17:29:45Z the burden of filling the vacant spaces

It takes you years to realize that sometimes you can’t see something by looking straight at it. You keep your eyes forward instead and watch the rolling ghosts from the sides of your eyes, cursing their obscurity but feeling gratitude at seeing them at all. So many people can’t see them. So many people never learn to see from the sides of their eyes. So many never wake with clenched jaws, with jagged teeth newly softened and smoothed and transformed to powder. So many have never hosted such a civil war in their mouths. They’ll never mourn the fatalities, the wounded, the lost. You’ll never crush things between your teeth the way you used to. You acknowledge this. Your tongue rests in the now vacant spaces. You acknowledge the burden of filling the vacant spaces. Try not to grieve for yourself, for those who can’t fill them for you. They want to.

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Almost like God]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2885 2015-07-28T17:08:26Z 2015-07-26T17:00:57Z Love Letter

When you’re a small child, you’re constantly looking for love, almost like God. It seems to exist, somewhere maybe. Maybe some people feel it, maybe they were even warming themselves in it in some faraway place I couldn’t get to. But I didn’t see it. It was so tricky, love; as soon as I thought I might have found it, I was wrong. Love wasn’t screaming and tears and pain and unyielding agony. It wasn’t solitary or demeaning or critical, and yet, that was all I found in the living people around me; my parents, my grandparents, many of my friend’s families. Love had somehow morphed into security, comfort, apathy, and this is easier.

Every child wants to know that their parents not only love them but love each other. I have small fuzzy memories of what could have been love between my mother and father: laughter, tickling, pet names, but those small moments had all faded and died before I was out of elementary school. From that point on until my father shot himself, my parents were strangers to each other at their best and bitter enemies at their worst. And I was struggling with the being of the product of that failed alliance.
And yet, I knew in the deepest and darkest corners of my heart that at one time, they loved each other, they had passion for each other and probably would have died for each other. I’ve only ached for being too late to have witnessed it. Instead, I watched hate conquer love. Every child of a broken home has, and they carry this around with them in their bones for the duration of their lives.

My American father met my Australian mother through unlikely circumstances in Queensland in 1980. They exchanged love letters when they were apart. And because of that, I have these small but significant artifacts from their past…my past, that prove the existence of love; love between them. And that’s as good as God to me. Maybe it’s even the same thing.

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Naked in the Woods]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2854 2015-07-24T19:59:40Z 2015-07-24T19:36:58Z My cousin Cassie and I always manage to create some great photos when we get together, even if we begin without a single idea. More importantly though, we always have fun.
Here’s the latest from our shoot back in June.

In the mirror I see you looking back at me. Pulled toward your gaze, my feet leave the earth until they crumble into the dry and hungry earth below. You will never know love like this.

You are in everything

You are in everything

You are in everything

You are in everything

You are in everything

When you said I was beautiful, what were you really trying to say? That you could only wish? Don’t hide under the soft flesh of your palms, baby. Look again. Look again at my face, into my eyes. You’ll see beauty, you’ll see pain, you’ll see love, you’ll see nature and light and the brevity of human life, and you’ll see yourself. We are all part of a singular force, and we’ll all return to the earth when we’re done here. You are in me. You are in everything.

Censorship

Censorship

Censorship

“What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist.” —Salman Rushdie

What if this is Heaven?

What if this is Heaven?

What if this is Heaven?

What if this is Heaven? What if this our reward for being good in a life of bleakness and despair, darkness, and savagery? What if we, holy, starved while all the others ate each other before turning themselves inside out and rotting to waste in the pulsing sun? What if earth is paradise?

What if this is purgatory? What if we are the souls of sinners just seeking redemption? Most of us never brave enough to hold on to it? What if someone heard the word “earth” once and they thought they were home? What if the in-between places become home?

What if this is all there is? Have you ever really considered that? What if this is all you’ll ever be?

What the fuck then?

Look again

Look again

Look again

“You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn’t he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole.” —Warsan Shire

Cloth Nipples

Cloth Nipples

Cloth Nipples

“Don’t worry. They’re made of cloth. The social media officials censoring women’s bodies can rest easy.”

Cover up

Cover up

Me in You

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Lumiere Tintype]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2849 2015-07-23T22:49:47Z 2015-07-15T22:42:26Z Tin type by Lumiere Tintype Photography

Last week my boyfriend, Mike and I had the pleasure of catching Adrian with Lumiere Tintype Photography during his summer road-trip stop here in Denver. I’ve always always always wanted a tintype portrait so my excitement at this can hardly be contained. I’ll surely treasure this photo for many years to come.

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror
up to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
if it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
The two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

–Rumi

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[The Lover’s Gift]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2820 2015-07-09T18:27:19Z 2015-07-08T19:50:22Z This is my fourth blog post recently with the word love in the title, I think.

When I was still a teenager, I bought a beautiful book showcasing some of the most gorgeous nude and erotic photographs of the time. It was phenomenal, and it only fueled my passion for photo documentation of the female body. Anyway, on the first page there was a a graceful but delicate quote about how all photographs are essentially about love. And I loved that quote. It alludes me now and a quick google search yields no results, but I know I still own the book. Someday soon I’ll find it.

But oh, how I love love and it’s prevalence in my life as of late.

My friend and wonderful model of mine, Edie asked me back in May if we could shoot “something boudoir for [her] intended” as she and her long-time love, Bryce (also a friend of mine), will be getting married next weekend and she wanted to create something sexy with him in mind. She supplied the location, idea and enviable attitude to create these sensual images, and I’m thrilled with the results. There has always been something so so sexy to me about a woman with tireless confidence, especially when it comes to her body. The light seemingly radiates through infinitesimal voids in her flesh to envelope her in a fiery blaze. She’s beaming in every photograph. Fearlessness is sexy. Sexy is sexy. Love is sexy. Love is love. Love is everything.

I think Bryce is a lucky man. And I think they’re lucky to have found each other. I hope they’re both as captivated with these photographs as I am.

[Scroll down for 20 of my favorite photos from this shoot.]

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

The Lover's Gift

ps. The name of this series is based off a quote by the phenomenal Gibran, a long-time favorite of mine:

“I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.”
—Kahlil Gibran

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Conquered Hearts]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2802 2015-06-17T14:36:07Z 2015-06-17T14:34:37Z Happy 2nd Birthday to dear Adalynn, my good friend Kristin’s little girl, the sweetest note in the melody of her parents’ lives!

“Dance. Dance for the joy and breath of childhood. Dance for all children, including that child who is still somewhere entombed beneath the responsibility and skepticism of adulthood. Embrace the moment before it escapes from our grasp. For the only promise of childhood, of any childhood, is that it will someday end. And in the end, we must ask ourselves what we have given our children to take its place. And is it enough?” —Richard Paul Evans

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

Adalynn

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[Dissident women (an hommage to fearlessness)]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2791 2015-05-19T20:52:59Z 2015-05-19T20:49:12Z I’ve assumed the new role of columnist for Fluffer Magazine and the newest issue is now out!

There are some great interviews in there as well as beautiful and edgy photography from the nude and erotic photography realm, and of course, my column. So if you feel up to showing a little support for me and the fascinatingly beautiful world of the nude and erotic, grab you a copy! A print copy is less than $35 and a digital copy is a steal at less than $6!

“I grew up in this androcentric world. And I’ve spent much of my life brazenly giving myself permission to be a woman, a fundamentally sexual being in the face of the incessant brainwashing of girls that never seems to abate. I began taking nude self-portraits at the turn of this century, when I was still a teenager. Now as a woman, I have dealt with the inevitable but senseless issues that have risen because of it. I have lost count of the number of fights my ex-husband and I had over my decision to expose my body. I’ve wasted countless hours worrying about what potential jobs I might lose out on because I’ve shared my body with the world, unapologetically and I’ve antagonized over the silent judgments of other women, misguided byproducts of our culture, but I’m proud of my courage and I don’t live in regret of these decisions…”

…And don’t forget to share your thoughts and feedback!

Fluffer Magazine

Fluffer Magazine

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[You were born to love]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2786 2015-05-19T18:53:16Z 2015-05-18T18:47:55Z Anniversary Tattoos

Love without apology, without reservation, without fear, without safety and security and that hard shell you swore no one would ever crack. Love without boundary, without apprehension and cynicism and timidity over exposing the soft part of your flesh. Love like it’s the last time you’ll ever love because this life is much too short to waste such a precious commodity. You were born to love. Anything else is wasted potential.

“Wear your heart on your skin in this life.” ―Sylvia Plath

Tattoos by Shanna Keyes
Original tattoo design by Alex Tabuns
Modified to add compass and banner/text by me

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Rebecca Tillett <![CDATA[How deeply I loved him]]> http://rebeccatillett.com/?p=2783 2015-05-19T18:37:14Z 2015-05-15T18:34:00Z Kissing in the snow

We would meet in a chatroom in 1997 when were just teenagers. We’d grow close and in 1998 when my father killed himself, Mike would become one of the only people I could talk to about it. I would read his sweet words on the screen, grieving over the loss, sinking into my swelling isolation and wishing I could disappear into his strong arms. I quietly fell in love with him then but he lived in Philly and I lived in New Mexico, and 2,000 miles is enormous to two kids with no means to cross it.

As time wore on, my contact with Mike would become infrequent. He had his life on the east coast and I had my own in the desert. I would soon meet another man and marry him, sometimes letting years pass in which Mike and I wouldn’t speak at all. It was the hard times that I’d reach out to him, looking for the comfort and compassion he’d so readily gave when we were teenagers, when sadness and grief would come storming into my life and I needed someone who knew me, who really understood, who’d let me immerse myself in my own salty tears but never drown. And he never ever let me drown.
It was 2013 when Mike and I would begin chatting more frequently and I would finally admit to him that I loved him when we were kids. He would laugh it off because even though we had grown, the distance was still daunting but more importantly, I was married. My confessions were innocent and naïve and I expected nothing of them, but as our chatting turned to texts and then phone calls, his feelings for me became clear and when I’d confront him over it, he wouldn’t deny it.

I would soon admit to myself how deeply I loved him, how lonely I’d felt for so much of my life and leave my husband of 14 years for the promise of something with this man I’d never even met in person. It would be the scariest decision I’d ever make. Six months later Mike would load up his truck, and drive out to Denver armed with nothing but faith and the hope of sharing a life with me.

One year later and we’ve never been happier.

Sometimes I think fate exists and life has a plan for us. This experience of unlikely circumstance has only helped to cement my faith in that belief. My love for him knows no bounds.

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