Of Land and Roots and Belonging /  by Rebecca Tillett

Sometimes I feel physically ill from the memory of what I left behind and the way that I left it. I am not capable of the acts I committed, the desperation I induced. I am that woman now, capable of such things. How long am I allowed to toil in heartache for the woman I can never again claim to be? Sometimes I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. I wake up often that way. Feels like every unbearable tension, climbing every root of every molar battling for dominance.

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Prints for Sale /  by Rebecca Tillett

I’m liquidating my personal print stash in an effort to raise money for the Serenica Landship RV Fund. There are nearly 100 prints in this digital document from series spanning the last 13 years. Some are limited editions, some are special editions, most are print proofs I had printed to check clarity and color. Some are sold as sets, and some sold as individual prints. All are being sold at base/cost prices. Thank you for your love and support, and for helping me to make this dream a reality.

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Reminders, Defeats /  by Rebecca Tillett

Why are each journey's impending ends so difficult to conquer?When you feel close enough to see it, but still too far to claim it? As if reaching and grasping at a too-distant destination is an agony worse than seeing nothing at all, nothing to tease or torment, just stumbling around in the dark and hoping for good news. I'm so tired. I know you are too. I'm so ready. I know you are too.

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The Mooers the Merrier /  by Rebecca Tillett

“But love is always new. Regardless of whether we love once, twice, or a dozen times in our life, we always face a brand-new situation. Love can consign us to hell or to paradise, but it always takes us somewhere. We simply have to accept it, because it is what nourishes our existence. If we reject it, we die of hunger, because we lack the courage to stretch out a hand and pluck the fruit from the branches of the tree of life. We have to take love where we find it, even if that means hours, days, weeks of disappointment and sadness. The moment we begin to seek love, love begins to seek us. And to save us.”

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Gratitude and Equanimity /  by Rebecca Tillett

I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive the 15 years of time that existed between knowing you and loving you; but maybe it’s hollow lamenting not-knowings, past lives you were only a part of in obscure ways, or distances we utilized as justifications to exist separately in the universe. It feels wrong indulging such a twinge in my heart over something that finally submerged me in much needed hope, happiness, love, and fruition, because I’m anything but ungrateful.

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Lutalica /  by Rebecca Tillett

You tell the world who you are in a million different ways. Some are subtle. Some are not. But it doesn’t seem to matter. This world has already got you pegged. When you were born they put you in a little box and slapped a label on it, so they could keep things organized, and not have to think about what’s inside.

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SERENICA: The Befores /  by Rebecca Tillett

In October of last year Mike and I began shopping around for used RVs and sometime around Halloween weekend we found one. She's a 37 ft. long 1996 Raven XL and belonged to the Hendersons (no sign of Harry!), a sweet older couple in Falcon, CO who were only the second owners and took such good care of her while they had her. She has less than 50,000 miles and we got her for $12,500, a total steal. We dubbed her the Serenica Landship, found a storage facility to store her for the winter, bought a gigantic winter cover, and sealed her up eager for fall and winter to pass quickly. Fortunately, they did.

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Idaho (and a little Wyoming) /  by Rebecca Tillett

“When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in.” —D. H. Lawrence

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In Harmony with the Hurt /  by Rebecca Tillett

l think about you on these roads to nothingness, I think about my pain or regret or guilt that have become dead-end branches off my heart forever reminding the blood running through me that I could have been better, that I fucked up, that some things are never undone and never forgiven and never forgotten. Have you forgiven me? Have you eulogized the branches of your own heart? Or are you still struggling to live in harmony with the hurt?

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Bloomed /  by Rebecca Tillett

How often do you do something that absolutely terrifies you? I've done 2 such things in the last week. I believed in myself enough to go after something I never would have throughout past versions of me, something that scared me but something I knew with every beating fiber of my heart that I could do and was more than qualified to do. I'm much more confident now, more comfortable with who I am and what I'm capable of, more ready for challenges and opportunities to lead.

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