journal and writing

With the Possibility of God by Rebecca Tillett

And inescapably, the sadness returned to the pit of my heart and the emptiness lingered in the pit of my stomach and because I didn’t know how to relinquish such feeling, they became something I learned to live with, like chronic pain you’ve heard there is no treatment for. I had completely forgotten who I was and my early beginnings at forming a relationship with my soul, with nature and with the possibility of God.

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How, Then, Shall We Live? by Rebecca Tillett

"Clearly our wounds need our attention. But when we concentrate exclusively upon our hurt, we learn to see the brokenness, losses, or injuries we have been given as the most important things in our lives. We cultivate an attention to these wounds in such a way that, over time, they come to occupy the most important place in our heart. Our wound lives in the center of our thoughts. In this way, we actually come to love our suffering." —Wayne Muller

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360//365 by Rebecca Tillett

A friend once told me "Denver has no soul." Until then, I hadn't been able to articulate exactly why I didn't take to the city and ever since and in every comparably sized city I visit, I find myself searching for its soul, its unmistakeable aura and personality like the feeling you get when meeting a stranger for the first time, that primal sense based only on feeling and emotion and in almost every one, it is unquestioningly undeniable.

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351//365 by Rebecca Tillett

Could I say it's been 16 years and I hardly think of you anymore? Could I say I've forgotten so many of the sad details of your life that helped to paint my own in such vividly dark colors? Could I say I've forgiven you for robbing me of a life without a father, the opportunity to open my heart to you and spill 16 years of pain, now doubled, the sudden way you changed and redefined my life, or the way you didn't say goodbye?

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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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332//365 by Rebecca Tillett

What can you tell me now that you couldn’t one year ago? Could you tell me how your reflection in the mirror has changed with such fervent subtlety that you hardly recognize the person you once were? Could you describe to me the palpable feeling of the shattering of such long-held presumptions of yourself? Could you tell me how fucking beautiful the silencing of such familiar doubts in your head can be? Could you tell me how your smile is an accessory you rarely leave home without?

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Brandice, Joel and Ethan by Rebecca Tillett

It's probably obvious, based on my usual subject matter, that family photography is not my forte. I sometimes make exceptions for those I've shot previously or anyone close to me in my life but even then, I tend to have a "Thanks for asking but that's not my specialty" ready to go in my arsenal of responses to the "Won't you take pictures of my family?" question, just in case.

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Fall in Love Twice by Rebecca Tillett

"I realized recently, that I've been steadily re-falling in love with him over the last six months that he's been here. That's a weird feeling: thinking you know and love someone so unconditionally and wholly but realizing there's so much more to this person that you couldn't possibly fall in love with before he was able to stand half a foot in front of you and put his arms around you while whispering "God, you're beautiful and shit, do I love you so much." I've been fortunate enough to fall in love with him twice. Did you know that was possible? I sure as shit didn't. It's an unearthly and dreamlike experience."

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New York City by Rebecca Tillett

It was 2010 and I had traveled to New York City, just to see it, for the very first time in my life. It was endless and overwhelming in its sheer enormity. I remember wondering how the land hadn’t sunk straight into the ocean from the weight of all the unevenly placed buildings and frenzied people scurrying in and out of them, oblivious to their doomed and drowning fates.

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Throwing Your Entire Body by Rebecca Tillett

"Never be the grown woman without direction. Never be the person with no goals or aspirations. Never float aimlessly through life. If you don’t have the answers, pretend to have the answers. And if you don’t know what inspires you, pretend everything inspires you. But that’s difficult, isn’t it? If you’ve never been inspired, how would you know how to feign it? It’s like attempting, in vain, to speak a language you’ve never learned. It’s like making love with your clothes on or swimming in the ocean with a life-jacket. Until you’ve ever really experienced passion and knowing the feeling of loving something so much more than yourself, throwing your entire body into it without discretion is an impossible task."

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305//365 by Rebecca Tillett

Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you, sweetpea? I meant every word of that sentence. I meant it with every force within me that propels me forward. I meant it with the self same honesty and intention I feel when I hold your jaw in the palm of my hand, when I get my fingers tangled in yours and when I touch my lips to your earlobe.

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