self-portrait

The First Pregnancy by Rebecca Tillett

“That first pregnancy is a long sea journey to a country where you don’t know the language, where land is in sight for such a long time that after a while it’s just the horizon – and then one day birds wheel over that dark shape and it’s suddenly close, and all you can do is hope like hell that you’ve had the right shots.” —Emily Perkins

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Yearning for Permanence by Rebecca Tillett

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.

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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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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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50 Shades of STFU by Rebecca Tillett

I'm not a prude by any means. You don't have to know me long or well to know that about me. I love fine art nudity, sloppy and amateur porn, the many crazy kinks and fetishes that abound, sex, sex, and more sex. I love exercised dominance on both sides of the gender field and so long as animals or children aren't involved, I can appreciate any and all preferences, no matter how strange, in the bedroom. I especially love that women are beginning to feel less ashamed and more empowered in this realm and that we're slowly moving into a world where it's just as acceptable for a woman to embrace her sexuality as men have been doing without consequence for eons.

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Innermost by Rebecca Tillett

So what now? As I was shooting this intimate set last weekend and scrunching my face up in disapproval at each glance of every image, I thought to myself "Maybe this is it for my self-portrait work. Maybe it was a good run but I'm getting old and less thrilled at my appearance and maybe it's time to retire as my own model." And now especially, with a lack of a good spot for photos, the incentive to give this side of my work a break is quite high.

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Right Where I Belong by Rebecca Tillett

I've become so afraid and guarded that I rarely allow anyone else to take pictures of me. When I get in front of my own camera, I'm fully aware of what angles and views are off limits. I also always make stupid faces because, for some reason, I can look at those without wanting to gag. I'm under the assumption that I'm less ugly when I make stupid faces. Whether this is true or not, I'm unsure. I'm also still unsure if I'm delusional when I look in the mirror and sometimes like what I see or if I'm just completely and unfortunately totally unphotogenic. I'd of course hope for the latter over the former. Either way, as most women do, there are a million things I wish I could change about myself but can't...especially as I get older.

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"Time" for pictures by Rebecca Tillett

Every now and then I go on these creative benders when something as simple as a kitchen utensil can inspire me and I tend to embrace them because I also go through periodic artistic dry-spells in which I create absolutely nothing for months and can't even be bothered to look at a photograph let alone create one. So I may start losing sleep because I'm staying up until 2am working on a new series and then getting up at 7am for work, I'm producing so many photos it's typical that I produce some mediocre ones, and my husband and I become VIPs at Chipotle and Chik-fil-a because I only have time for art but all of that's fine with me because I realize it's only a matter of time before this drive, this incredible inspiration completely fades leaving me to wonder if it'll ever return.

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