Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Regret - Cam Parsons

Starting this tintype portrait series has opened my eyes to a lot of regrets I have about my work over the past few months. Staying up till 4 am for numerous nights in a row, mixing my own emulsions, coating my own film, and dumping almost every last penny I have into my art; this has proven to me that to have consistent quality work takes this much time and effort 24/7, not just when finals roll around. So, to sum up what could be a page long rant: Cam was lazy, and things are gonna change pronto.

Enough with the self-degredation and on to the fun stuff! Check out my evergrowing tintype portrait series here, and check back frequently!

Regrets: Paige L. Hill

Regrets, No regrets! We are who we are because of the paths we have taken or have chosen or the ones that have been force upon us. There for to you I say, “I have no regrets”. Would that I could change some things… yes we all say that. Would you change your path? Who would you be? Would you be happier now? Would you be healthier now? Would you be richer now? Who is to say? We are who we are. No Regrets!

Anna Keiser: Regret

Xavier G., 2012

Now, don’t get ahead of me now. ‘Tis the season to be regretful…for some people. I try my best to live by phrase to never regret anything. However, there is a distinctive time where I do remember feeling regretful. Like I said before, don’t get ahead of me now.
It was in July 2011 and I had just found out I was pregnant. It was pre-telling my parents, and things were swirling over my head. I was not regretful of getting pregnant, but instead I was so ashamed of myself for bringing something so incredible into the nasty world that it is.  Freaking out because I was a student that had to work, barely having any time in the first place. Feeling selfish because now I knew I would have to rely more on my parents, and only God knows how they are going to take the news.
I told my parents the day they got back from their summer vacation that I was pregnant. They were supportive right from the bat. That quickly helped my attitude (but I did have hormones against me).
Fast forward to now, my baby has become a miracle in my life. Having a baby teaches you all the things you never knew about life. Experiencing something you produced from your body, learning how to use their hands, standing for the very first time, walking along the walls leading to many other wonderful things that you never even realized that you did one time in your life.
So whenever I’m feeling down, its easy for me to look at my son and say “I have no regrets” because there is always something beautiful in the experiences we have.

Ryan Bilawsky: Regret

Ah yes, regret. A feeling that I have become quite familiar with over the years, especially on the weekend mornings after liquor guzzling bar nights. After you have woken up and can feel the fuse of your soon-to-be explosive headache getting shorter and shorter.. you start feeling that regret coming on, along with a fine scent of whiskey and disappointment. Now, where is the Advil?

Regret: Kevin Reeve

For a select few photography geeks, historical processes have nearly been lost to time.
It would be regretful to let these processes die.  
There are a crazy few who brave the toxic chemicals to keep hand-made photography alive.
Cam Parsons: Tintypist or Heisenberg?

Coating the plate with collodion!

Not a scene from Breaking Bad. It's photography!

I had the good fortune to capture on video the zany antics of two such photographers. Cam Parsons and Charlie Carmen, Denver photographers, created a DIY wet-plate collodion studio. These are video "stills" from my upcoming short film "Collodion" which will be released shortly on my website kevinreeve.com.  Stay tuned for updates, don't regret not watching!

Regret: Christi Bode

Oil painting, Self Portrait, 2005
I regret the small stuff.  This may or may not be a manifestation of some of my obsessive traits.

Crusty stale bagels for breakfast
Wearing high heels while lugging 30 pounds of lighting equipment
Pairing two different white socks together with varied ribbing and knowing that it’s there all day long

Listening to Metallica in rush hour traffic
Listening to Katy Perry in rush hour traffic
Walking into a bathroom stall with no toilet paper
Leaving my Tide To-Go pen in the car when I dribble a 1mm dot of coffee on my shirt

We all come from different backgrounds, environments and experiences that make us who we are today.  I’ve faced my own demons and have my own unique set of battle scars that not many can understand.  I own my decisions and recognize several were made from a different state of mind.  The one thing I regret?  Neglecting my art for so long. I am now alive.

*harp strings and chirping birds*

Regret-Michelle McClelland

            The darkest of moments lead you into mouth of regret, gruesome with all the horrific nature that brought you to that lonesome place.  Everything you had consumed by the lustful nature of just one more hit!  

            A deep inhale and then a moment of calm before the heart races and for that fragmented part of time everything was going to be okay, all the worries manifested into a quickly dissipating mist.

            Quickly springing to your feet........feeling invincible, ten feet tall as it were, the streets were the playground with no limits of time or  rules that could contain us; but a game of roulette perused with each and every line, it was a chance of life or death and that was often forgotten.

            Once something to be proud of, but somehow it all slipped away.  Friends would die, jobs would be lost, addictions became the priorities and darkness quickly overcame any light. The bottom had finally hit, completely alone, broke and desperate!


Ashley Ecklund | Regret

When one is full of regret they feel as though the world is happening around them.
They can't seem to rejoin it. There is a bubble that consumes the person and it swallows all the hustle around the soul and blocks it out. Regret is friends with lonely but they are like the weird kids that sit in the back of the lunchroom. Nobody talks to them and there is just something strange about them that makes others avoid them. They live in a cold dark place, hand in hand, while the rest of the world gets blocked out.