sign up or log in.
darkroom our head is more like the dark room unltil and unless enlightened by some knowledge or some new information it continues to remain in dark.. isnt it just apt that we have named it En-lightening .. to come out of the dark o
black space of time in a world of my own, sputtering, wondering, tripping over everything I cannot see. I cannot hear, I cannot feel anything but this dark room. darkroom.
Darkroom. Memories of my university introduction to photography. The room was nothing but darkness, only my senses to guide me. Camera, film, can opener, stool, and terror. Well terror might be a bit strong but nervousness that one wrong move, one incorrect manoevre and the entire roll of film so painstakingly shot would go to utter and complete waste.
When they burst into the darkly lit darkroom, it was dark. The police searched for evidence of the photographer’s secret doings. They found pictures of a darkroom.
scary, childhood, sex, party, hook up, boys, sleep, fan, tired, night, pass out, tv.
a single light can not be putoff by the whole darkness in the world
i was in a darkroom that i had imprisoned myself in. i was waiting for you, for how long i wasn’t sure. i somehow believed that you would arrive. i was waiting in the corner of the room. that’s all i could do. and then the door opened. it wasn’t you.
mind plays tricks
shows one part of it, then the curtains change to reveal a completely different room
you can bring a flashlight but you’ll only see one part of the picture at a time
wish i could see the whole picture
the flame in the sky
darkroom burst with colour
colour so rich you can make fun of it at the golf course
you are my hearse
take me on a roadtrip
i wish i were a man
so i could look into your eyes
and see my
Darkroom. I felt the walls sealing up around me, threatening to cut off my oxygen. Darkroom. My thoughts shifted from fear to incredible terror. Darkroom. I knew I had to get out. Darkroom. Save me.
I sit on the floor
Waiting for the last red streak of my candle
To go out
She sat in the darkroom, just listening to the soft whoosh of the air vents overhead, swirling around the smell of chemicals around her nose. She sat up, slowly, sliding her hands off her knees as she did so to grab her new prints off the counter before leaving.
In a dark, dark room.
Of the things that haunt
Scared to be –
Or to lose you.
Reminds me of my junior year of high school when I took the graphic arts class. Another girl in the class and I spent most of the semester taking black and white photos and developing them in the darkroom. Of course we made things interesting.
There is a dark room. It is filled with things of a human nature. This is an exercise in futility, the dark room says. Whatever that means, the ominous tone of the voice sends chills down your back. This is not home, this is not an illusion, this is life.
The darkroom. That’s how I really met him. I had known him for years. Hated him since the first day I met him. In the darkroom we began talking about everything. Anything. The entire universe was fair game for discussion. I fell in love in the darkroom with the one man I have ever hated. Thank God he never saw how he made me feel.
I am in a dark room. What is this dark room you ask? It is a place inside my psyche, a place filled with discontent and loneliness. Where is the light switch? It is in a place far unreachable to me. I don’t even remember there being a light switch when I came upon this place the first time I was to enter it.
strange, red, hissing, secrets seven minutes, warm lips, like pedals moon explosions
The snow falls
onto your face,
like the light dissolving
in a darkroom,
sliding off like
dissolving your eyes
from my view,
melting your cheekbones
and facial hair,
becoming only a blur
in my mind.
The dark room tends to be a bland place. Despite it’s absence of light, its ambient red waves that dance accross surfaces only to simmer slowly to black it isn’t a great place for a murder.Still, murder happened anyway.
stairways leading to the perpetual nothing that is the dark room
where only the dim lighting of another world illuminates the face of the insomniac of a women.
silhouette of hate
darkroom? okay… well i suppose its a room thats dark. normaly used for making photos.
Darkroom. A place for lover and people with friends. a place for creative and thoughtful people. Nothing separates them from pure thought
in the dark room stood a figure of a man. he did not know who it was but could only make out the shape of the man. he was wearing a hat and a long trench coat. he stood frozen and paralyzed with fear. the figure did not move.
I feel lost and scared and I have no idea what to think, the fears of the past come to life and are inescapable. No where to hide and nothing to think about except for the things I hate the most. Confrontation at its finest, no light to be found.
This is the place where I first learned how to love photography. I will never forget my first time in a darkroom. It changed me and my life forever. It gave me a hobby that I’m passionate about. It let me clear my head and create new ideas all at the same time. I wish I could go there again.
Darkroom. What does this mean? All of my friends that know the first thing about photography use this term all of the time… Carter.. Laura.. Amy.. I have no idea what it is though. haha. I just go along for the ride. Maybe once I get to art school I’ll figure it out! Maybe maybe baby.
I walked blindly along the corridors of my brand new highschool. My shoes were going to smell so bad after today because when I get nervous, my feet sweat like crazy. I looked down at my schedule for the hundredth time, then finally decided to open a door to find some help. I grabbed the first one I turned to and opened it.
“Excuse me, can you he-”
“Oh my God! Shut the door you idiot!”
“My pictures are ruined!”
A room without preconceptions or impurities where ideas take to light in the darkness – it is devoid of judgement and entirely conceptual. With bright red eyes we are able to navigate the void to nuture our art, the fruit of a loving labor, and watch as color spreads over photographic paper. Given time, the snapshots are removed, fresh bursts of color born from a place utterly lacking.