Photo Cliché or Nay by Rebecca Tillett

This past Saturday I shot my friend Brandice. It was only her second time modeling (her first time was for me as well) and her ease in front of the camera this time compared to last was just jaw-dropping. Originally we had no plan for this shoot...well, aside from renting an old motel room which was quickly scratched after being warned by a multitude of co-workers of the likely potential for bed-bugs. So we set out for the wide-open fields of Falcon, a place I've shot several times in the past but discovered this old car on the way, instead. I owe the ultimate decision to cross private-property lines to my good friend Kristin who has acted as my "assistant" on several of my past shoots. 

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The Fancy New rebeccatillett.com by Rebecca Tillett

If you're a follower of my work and have been for some time, you're probably familiar with many of my past site designs (all created by me). I owe this amazing new website to my friend Amanda Hawkins of Little Bird or perhaps better known as Ahhh Design. It's so fresh and new and fantastic I've been doing cartwheels since the moment I saw it.

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The Words (book project/no. 2) by Rebecca Tillett

The words, the words trickled up from my throat
chitchaty insects careful not to misquote
declaring out loud what I’d previously wrote
The words, the words trickled up from my throat

The words, the words escaped from my mouth
dripping with moisture after the drought
like a companionless intentional crane flying south
The words, the words escaped from my mouth

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Hayseed Invasion by Rebecca Tillett

These little girls that rise from corn fields bold & busting at the
seams with hazy expectations unreceptive to the lives &
movements of those growing & dying before them.
Sallys, Emmys, & Maryanns they think they know it all, they
do. Proclamations of youth too ripe to pick but much too
mouthwatering to pass by. Tomorrow’s another day& another
day of bursting skulls and spoiled greens.

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In Sweetness and Love by Rebecca Tillett

In Sweetness and Love is 160 pages of absolutely stunning Kodachrome photographs taken in the mid 1950s to 1960s by my great-grandparents John and Mabel Moore accompanied by poignant quotes, lyrics, and excerpts.

They spent as much time traveling as they did at home and locations captured include Wyoming, California, New Mexico, Hawaii, New York, Guam, Arizona, and the Philippines.

My sincerest gratitude to them for their diligence in documenting their later years and thus providing me with such a vivid glimpse into the beautifully small but significant intricacies of their wonderful lives 60 years later.

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You'll Never Live This Life That I Live. by Rebecca Tillett

I'm thinking I really have nowhere else to go. I'm thinking I've become that person. I'm thinking a lot lately about God, a god, another plane of existence, another dimension, an afterlife, everyone we ever loved - now gone. I'm thinking I could die at this very moment and every question I've ever really had could be answered. I'm thinking my bones are aching and you look exhausted. I'm thinking you have dark circles under your eyes and I'm covered in cuts and bruises. I'm thinking everything's always for looks, for appearances, I'm thinking rain always brings out the doubts and hopelessness in me - but I wouldn't give it up for anything else in the world. I'm thinking everyone's moving forward and I'm standing still. 

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A Scar is Never Ugly by Rebecca Tillett

“On the girl's brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.” ―Chris Cleave

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Big Fish by Rebecca Tillett

Big fish in little pond will soon be swimming at sea
I was a human collage, with your name all over my arms. 
It took you years to realize they were talking about me
But it was just play pretend, never did any harm

You said I’m incapable of growing; smile
You were never good at coping with change
Or really a single thing that alters your lifestyle
I always did find it somewhat strange

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I Love the Desert in the Fall by Rebecca Tillett

Remember when we were young
little road-trips here and there
through Colorado in the summer, in the fall
driving home, going HOME
infinite blades of grass looking frail, dying.

to New Mexico
I love the desert in the fall
Makeshift crosses on every sharp bend
with names and years and "rest in peace" 
Bobcat workin' at the Chama Chevron
Old gas stations now libraries
and unfortunate cats and dogs in pieces
on the highway
Close your eyes, close your eyes.

Sometimes it's much too easy to look away.

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Little Miss by Rebecca Tillett

The old mill dies on top of the trash
Yet Little Miss hardly bats an eyelash
So much of that dirty shit has left a rash
Scrapes, bruises and whiplash

And so the royal civilian decides
After all he never took sides
Like a good little boy he always abides
By the rules, never mind the landslides

And so Little Miss dodges a threat ‘
cause she hasn’t touched that dang trash yet
Just thinkin’ about it gets her upset
Fucking pile always blocks the sunset

Royal civilian’s washed his hands of it all
Broken bottles, typewriter keys, toys and dolls
Couldn’t get it all done before nightfall
That old mill was nothing but an ugly catchall

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