Fearless and Raw /November 1, 2016 by Rebecca Tillett

“Rarely do I encounter someone so fearless and raw. I’m starting to remember why I was so fucking drawn to you back then.”

— M.C.

“Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be.”

— Clementine Paddleford

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Entre Cielo y Tierra

about a day ago

Did you drink the whiskey? Did you call a truce with time? She won't stop searching because she loves you, because she can't imagine her soul disentangled from yours, space forever multiplying between you. Will there be music? There must be music. Could the universe be so cruel?

Yearning for Permanence

about a week ago

This all just stops. You know that, of course, but do you really truly know that?

I ache, perpetually, at the realization.

You are my container of happiness, my vessel, my iron safe. How could I ever handle more? I fear for the power of whatever could be loved more by me, even if it is our zenith, our culmination of desire and passion and wanting and patience. In truth, I don’t need more keeping me here, begging me to stay, and I would love such a creation so much it would gut me.

More Like Deer Than Human Being

about 3 months ago

Dear Samantha—
Thank you for your passion, your grace, your confidence, your boldness, your femininity, your sense of humor, your courage and fearlessness, your dedication, and the blinding beauty radiating from you. I edited one photo for every pound you lost (and have posted my favorites here)! I hope you feel as beautiful as you look in these photos.

Maeve and Dolores

about 6 months ago

Mike and I's Christmas gifts to each other this year were guitars (and lessons!) because we have a 2017 goal (among too many others probably) of learning how to play. We've named them Maeve and Dolores.

So this one's for you, David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Prince, George Michael, and every other talented soul we lost to this shitty year.

2017, you have lot to make up for!

Grandparents, History, and Passions

about 6 months ago

Have I ever told you that my grandmother was a bird and wildlife rehabilitator? That she eventually became known as the "bird lady" in Las Cruces? Have I ever told you that my grandfather joined NASA at the Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston in 1962, then in 1963 transferred to the White Sands Test Facility near Las Cruces, known then as the "Apollo Site?" That he served first as Chief of the Test Operations Branch, then as Chief of the Propulsion Test Office, where he oversaw the development and qualification testing of the rocket propulsion systems used on the Apollo Service Module and Lunar Module, leading to mankind's first steps on the Moon in 1969?

Mine, a Short Story

about 6 months ago

As some of you know, I’ve spent the last two and half years in school at Regis University, and the last 16 weeks completing my final capstone necessary for graduation. I chose to write and illustrate a short story as my final project deliverable (that I then later decided to animate and add sound to also). Last night I attended my very last class and gave my final project presentation and received unforgettable praise from both my professor and classmates, so I wanted to share it with you all as well. I am so extremely proud of the final product and hope the passion invested in this project is evident.

Of Land and Roots and Belonging

about 10 months ago

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.

Thunderstorm Looming

about a year ago

Maybe she has her head in the clouds, maybe she hides it there instead. But maybe this isn’t about her or her head. Maybe it’s about a woman’s body holding up the sky, the stars, the universe.