For the Earth Beneath / January 6, 2016 by Rebecca Tillett

When I fell in love with you
I prepared for battle
I held my heart between my teeth
Until it was tough and impenetrable
Like a wanting calloused fortress
Yours to lay siege to

yours, yours, yours

Serenica Landship / December 18, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

I'm not yet sure where life will take us in this beautiful beast (dubbed the Serenica Landship for anyone curious), but I'm okay with that. The road is enough. The road is beautiful. The road is host to so many fantastic possibilities. There's something thrilling and freeing about embracing the unknown, about being tied to nothing but each other, about movement and escaping a static and stationary presence. I suppose there's something poetic in acknowledging the forward motion of life in such a literal way.

Seventy Years of Sleep # 4 / December 14, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"I think we deservea soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough." —Nikka Ursula

Brandon, Kristin, and Adalynn / October 31, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

Little girls are truly magical, aren't they? Well, that's my opinion since I don't personally have one and thus get to run away laughing maniacally into the sunset when the impressive temper tantrums and glistening little girl tears start flooding the streets of Denver.

33 / October 24, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

Yesterday was my 33rd birthday. I worked too much. I drank too much. I smoked too much. But oh, the friends, the love, the fun, the sweetness of life I'll never tire of savoring. What a wonderful day, and so much to be grateful for. 33, I have so much planned for you.

Team Dunnero / October 13, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

In the years it takes to double our lifetimes from the onset of our days as silly teenagers, I'll watch you profess your love and devotion to a lucky gentleman with a handlebar mustache on the banks of the Rio Grande, ablaze and glowing with the heat of the Fall desert sun. Your beautiful and brilliantly white dress, shimmering and dancing with each affectionate word you utter in the direction of impending and hopeful days, your relentless tears waging cyclonic wars behind the barriers of your reinforced but dampened eyes. Every word, a promise, every syllable a solemn prayer.

AdobeMAX / October 7, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

The walk was not scenic but it was beautiful. And it was sad. It was through some extremely poor/low-income areas and I lost count of the many mattresses and makeshift sidewalk homes I'd pass on my way each day, the piles of garbage, the struggling mothers all hurrying their kids to school down the block. And the contrast of such surroundings with the people I'd encounter only minutes later sitting in beautiful conference halls, working on their MacBooks, answering emails on their tablets and having conversations on their smartphones was jarring at the very least.

I <3 Venice / October 4, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights."—Bram Stroker

Paddleboarding with Tara / September 20, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

This has been one of the most fun and interesting trips I've ever taken (even if it was technically for work) and I couldn't have spent it with a cooler chick.

Water Flows / September 19, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.” ―Margaret Atwood

Redwood National Park / September 12, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

There is nothing I can say about the trees to describe them to you if you've never seen them or found yourself in their presence. I hope you trust in my sincerity when I announce my satisfaction at that realization. It's true. I'm so utterly contented knowing there are places in this world that lie outside the boundaries of articulated description, places you simply have to see and feel and experience to know.

The Body Electric / September 4, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

We made love last night, not on my part because from a compulsive need to do it, but because we sort of drifted into it. In fact, to begin with I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. But once we'd begun, I was very glad because I was in one of those marvelously physical states where all my sensations were velvet. Anywhere I was touched and any touch I put out to him felt floating and exquisite.

Bring it Down Like Rain / August 29, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I want to do it to myself while I’m watching you. It would be easy, two fingers along my clit, back, in, back out. Your skin’s heat comes into me, adjacent. Through the mussed chrysanthemum— petals, your big child’s sleep-face, closed around its openness, gives me your mouth to ground on, but only with my eyes. I could come like that, but I don’t—take you against your will, it seems like, and I wouldn’t; rather wait adores in sunlight, with this morning heat condensing, a soft cloud above my groin gently diffusing brightness there, until you wake up, and you bring it down like rain." —Marilyn Hacker

Dark Rabbit Hole / August 17, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

You mentioned thinking life could always get better. I think I suffer with that as well. It used to be on both a personal and professional level and now it's only on a professional level (which is good) but seriously, I feel like I actively avoid success sometimes. Does that make sense? I just can't seem to get on the internet anymore without stumbling on someone's fantastic body of work and seeing that they're somehow doing that for a living (no 9-5 bullshit). How did they do that? How did that happen?You mentioned thinking life could always get better. I think I suffer with that as well. It used to be on both a personal and professional level and now it's only on a professional level (which is good) but seriously, I feel like I actively avoid success sometimes. Does that make sense? I just can't seem to get on the internet anymore without stumbling on someone's fantastic body of work and seeing that they're somehow doing that for a living (no 9-5 bullshit). How did they do that? How did that happen?

We Are Making Photographs / August 13, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

“We are making photographs to understand what our lives mean to us.” —Ralph Hattersley

I Go to the Sea / August 12, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused." —Rainer Maria Rilke

When Love is Not Madness / August 11, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"When love is not madness it is not love.” —Pedro Calderón de la Barca

A Tree Says / August 10, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

"Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail."

I Shall / August 9, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

“Let the first act of every morning be to make the following resolve for the day: - I shall not fear anyone on Earth. - I shall fear only God. - I shall not bear ill will toward anyone. - I shall not submit to injustice from anyone. - I shall conquer untruth by truth. And in resisting untruth, I shall put up with all suffering.” —Mahatma Gandhi

Forest Leaves / August 7, 2015 by Rebecca Tillett

And then I said "Baby, promise me that when our Denver sentence is up, we'll never again live in a place where the forest leaves aren't larger than our heads."