My girlfriend used to develop photos in here. She gets radiation from the stuff and will probably get sick someday. Her ring melts color in her finger.
a darkroom is where photos are developed. i do not like rooms that are dark. where photos are developed or not. it makes me feel alone. how do you know what is in there if there is no light to see? i would much prefer a light room. natural light from the sun. the world has enough dark rooms
I remember in high school working in the darkroom. Photography has been taken so far past this (and I don’t necessarily think this is a good thing). I would love to be able to shoot film and develop my photos in a darkroom again, first, I need a film camera.
I once had a darkroom. I was quite the freelance photographer, I sure got around. My pictures weren’t great, but it was a creative outlet that really let me free my spirit. My young twenties were years of crazy parties, adventures, and lots of blurry photographs.
I am invisible in this dim light. No one can see me no one will find me. Its only me and the pictures I see. Only me and the capturing light. Here I will create something beautiful.
darkroom without any light, which is scary sometimes. Anyway, when you want to be alone, and think about something deeply, darkroom will be a good choice.
scary. we need light. why is it dark? is it night time? are we watching a movie? or maybe we’re sleeping. yes, we are sleeping. every room is a dark room when you are asleep.
He stumbled into the darkroom, not exactly sure what he was looking for, but guided by the distinct feeling that he would find something important down here. The red glow diffused throughout the room, enmeshing everything, consuming everything. Photos were strung everywhere, hung on lines crisscrossing the room, tying every wall and every corner to each other.
his picture was close to finished developing. he gazed at the film with a smirk. a small drop of sweat dropped from his forehead to the concrete floor. the shapes slowly faded into distinguishable figures; a boy and a girl.
it was her.
Like our minds, like our toughts in desperate times. A Darkroom makes no difference to those unforgetable moments we struggle during our lives. We can’t see, we crash and sometimes we feel lost no matter how sure we knew how things were, darkroom in difficult times.
there is a dark room in here. it is dark. i am in a dark room. no red lights. its just dark. its weird. its quiet. its lonely. im sad. it is so dark in here. what will i do without light in this dark room i am in? is there light anywhere out there? is anyTHING out there? anywhere?
is the an out there
i am in this dark place with four walls and a ceiling the cold floor, can’t turn the lights on can’t see, filled with photographs, filled with edges, burnt edges, buning at the round tip of mind and soul where the edges can perceive my senses my smells and touches fingertips, fingerprints, like a little child that moves around my senses and realizations you know that remind that pull you back like a leash, realign’s your jaw, and collapse on to that cold floor, see a sliver of light from the door, exposing a sliver of the room
she sat in the darkroom for hours. It helped her cope with things. Thank you so much, she would tell the chemicals and the eerie red light. Thank you. thank you for bringing these things to light. Thank you for reaffirming what I thought was there. Thank you for letting me know that those things are real things.
I was sitting in the darkroom wondering where my captors had taken me.
The last thing I remember was walking home from the bus station from my walk. Most people would be wondering what I was doing out at midnight on a Monday night. to be honest I was trying to escape Dan, my stepfather.
i feel like i’m in a dark room all the time by myself. no one is there, no one is willing to help me turn on the lights. just darkness. where can i lead myself in a dark room? just roaming around nowhere, nothing but space. that’s my life. nothing but space, just emptiness with nothing to fill it. blah, i wish i had a more exciting life.
i am in this dark place with four walls and a ceiling the cold floor, can’t turn the lights on can’t see, filled with photographs, filled with edges, burnt edges, buning at the round tip of mind and soul where the edges can perceive my senses my smells and touches fingertips, fingerprints, like a little child that moves around my senses and realizations you kno
They had an affair in the darkroom, with photographs of her wedding hanging all around them. The warm air, the dim light, the mystical nature of the images developing before their eyes…it was captivating. She had been examining one picture in particular, in which she was sitting in her dress, the white fabric layered all around her, holding a crystal glass of champagne in one hand, and resting her head on her other.
I sat in the darkroom, listening quietly as the shadows etched their words deep into my skin. They crept slowly, swallowing my flesh in darkness as their whispers caressed my ears. The darkroom, which had long before been a comfort to me, now became my tomb. And as I lay myself to rest, I knew the shadows would accompany me in this darkroom forever.
A room with no light, where not even shadows exist. All alone, I sit in this room, devoid of vision, of warmth. Why I’m here doesn’t matter, the reason has lost meaning, as I was driven mad by the darkness.
southamerican photographer. isabel allende’s books. camera. young girl. scent of lavender. summer afternoon. bees buzzing in the flowers. blue sky. breeze. tea with madeleines and jam. old lady in the garden.
A dark room is the perfect place to spend some time alone, to have a nice conversation with someone, to take time and see magic before your eyes, to meditate, to take time! is might also be a sexy place
I sat in the darkroom, listening quietly as the shadows etched their words deep into my skin. They crept slowly, swallowing my flesh in darkness as their whispers caressed my ears. The darkroom, which had long before been a comfort to me, now became my tomb. And as I lay myself to rest, I knew the shadows would accompany me in this darkroom forever.
The darkroom was…well, you know dark. But that’s not the first time I’ve felt like I was in an area, trapped, by my own insecurities and lack of light. In fact, all metaphors aside, this wasn’t the first time I was stuck in a darkroom. My girlfriend got pretty upset with me and locked me in a darkroom once…she was deeply into photography.
I cant see shit what am igonna do what if i fall on my ass and break something i guess we will just h ave to find out and see what happens. This is harder then it looks maybe its just me yeah it’s probably just me maybe I’ll get better. Where does this get sent what if someone ripps me a new one cause this blows. Honestly I don’t care just let it be
un cuarto oscuro es un buen lugar para meditar, para pasar tiempo a solas, para compartir una buena platica o tener sexo a media luz (con esa sexy luz roja). Ver la imagen aparecer en el papel es algo mágico. Tomarse el tiempo de ver como sucede el proceso…TODAVÍA MÁS!
camera, film, cold, exposure, photobooth, beaty, chemicals, silence, one door, peaceful, work, hobby. It is a safe haven for a photgrapher. They see their own art come to life in that room. For a child it could be terrifying right before they fall a asleep. A dark room is their enemy.
I remember the lights. Red and damp feeling, like cool blood. Filling the room with a chemical smell, the opposite, however, of natural. It was always cold. And as our pictures came to life, the only warmth we felt was through the smiles on our faces as our shots came to life.
There’s a darkroom, and someone’s locked in it, and they scream on and on for someone else to come and release ’em, but their cries haven’t been answered yet, and they’re starting to lose all hope.
much nicer than digital. i like to move when i’m developing pictures. the light is much nicer but it makes me nervous. listen to music. move. dance a little. watch the clock but not too much. gloves are good. light is bad and expensive. best photos i’ve ever taken i developed myself. trees and people on buses. parks. snow.
Darkroom is something I traditionally associate with photography. Except, I dont know anything about photography. It is interesting however that I also thought of ‘Dark Knight’ the Batman sequel which makes me ponder how much influence entertainment has on our brains.
Scary. A place where imaginations run wild. Monsters and demons and robbers. Sleepovers. Photography. Developing. Sleep. Pillows and blankets. Comfort! Silence. Peace. There are so many things that come to mind! Wow this is a really cool invention! I should do this everyday!
this dark room smelled like whiskey and old musk. where was i? it was raining out and the room had been very damp. i was waiting for my friend, she was late. as i inhaled my camel cigarette, i looked down at my wet chuck taylors, cut off jeans and flannel shirt. was this even real? what had happened? my hair was down, blonde and messy. mascara had been all over my face,
a dark room is the scariest thing i can think of. so small and confining, so dark and mysterious, so bleak and ominous. but how does it stack up against other things? not that well. it’s just a room. it’s a little dark. but turn on a light and you might find something you miss.
there is photography and it is dark and it is a room there is a darkroom i have never been in a darkroom i don’t understand this exercise. There is only so much I can say about a darkroom. Is this for my benefit? What am I going to get out of this? I don’t know. There is a purple line moving across HOLY SHIT it is getting more and more purply. Purply. That’s a fun word.
Darkroom? Um. A room that is dark with no windows or light. Sounds so lonely and scary. Holy cow. I hate the dark. I run when I have to turn off the light. DARKROOM? AUGH.
My girlfriend used to develop photos in here. She gets radiation from the stuff and will probably get sick someday. Her ring melts color in her finger.
a darkroom is where photos are developed. i do not like rooms that are dark. where photos are developed or not. it makes me feel alone. how do you know what is in there if there is no light to see? i would much prefer a light room. natural light from the sun. the world has enough dark rooms
I remember in high school working in the darkroom. Photography has been taken so far past this (and I don’t necessarily think this is a good thing). I would love to be able to shoot film and develop my photos in a darkroom again, first, I need a film camera.
I once had a darkroom. I was quite the freelance photographer, I sure got around. My pictures weren’t great, but it was a creative outlet that really let me free my spirit. My young twenties were years of crazy parties, adventures, and lots of blurry photographs.
I am invisible in this dim light. No one can see me no one will find me. Its only me and the pictures I see. Only me and the capturing light. Here I will create something beautiful.
darkroom without any light, which is scary sometimes. Anyway, when you want to be alone, and think about something deeply, darkroom will be a good choice.
scary. we need light. why is it dark? is it night time? are we watching a movie? or maybe we’re sleeping. yes, we are sleeping. every room is a dark room when you are asleep.
He stumbled into the darkroom, not exactly sure what he was looking for, but guided by the distinct feeling that he would find something important down here. The red glow diffused throughout the room, enmeshing everything, consuming everything. Photos were strung everywhere, hung on lines crisscrossing the room, tying every wall and every corner to each other.
his picture was close to finished developing. he gazed at the film with a smirk. a small drop of sweat dropped from his forehead to the concrete floor. the shapes slowly faded into distinguishable figures; a boy and a girl.
it was her.
Like our minds, like our toughts in desperate times. A Darkroom makes no difference to those unforgetable moments we struggle during our lives. We can’t see, we crash and sometimes we feel lost no matter how sure we knew how things were, darkroom in difficult times.
there is a dark room in here. it is dark. i am in a dark room. no red lights. its just dark. its weird. its quiet. its lonely. im sad. it is so dark in here. what will i do without light in this dark room i am in? is there light anywhere out there? is anyTHING out there? anywhere?
is the an out there
i am in this dark place with four walls and a ceiling the cold floor, can’t turn the lights on can’t see, filled with photographs, filled with edges, burnt edges, buning at the round tip of mind and soul where the edges can perceive my senses my smells and touches fingertips, fingerprints, like a little child that moves around my senses and realizations you know that remind that pull you back like a leash, realign’s your jaw, and collapse on to that cold floor, see a sliver of light from the door, exposing a sliver of the room
she sat in the darkroom for hours. It helped her cope with things. Thank you so much, she would tell the chemicals and the eerie red light. Thank you. thank you for bringing these things to light. Thank you for reaffirming what I thought was there. Thank you for letting me know that those things are real things.
I was sitting in the darkroom wondering where my captors had taken me.
The last thing I remember was walking home from the bus station from my walk. Most people would be wondering what I was doing out at midnight on a Monday night. to be honest I was trying to escape Dan, my stepfather.
i feel like i’m in a dark room all the time by myself. no one is there, no one is willing to help me turn on the lights. just darkness. where can i lead myself in a dark room? just roaming around nowhere, nothing but space. that’s my life. nothing but space, just emptiness with nothing to fill it. blah, i wish i had a more exciting life.
i am in this dark place with four walls and a ceiling the cold floor, can’t turn the lights on can’t see, filled with photographs, filled with edges, burnt edges, buning at the round tip of mind and soul where the edges can perceive my senses my smells and touches fingertips, fingerprints, like a little child that moves around my senses and realizations you kno
They had an affair in the darkroom, with photographs of her wedding hanging all around them. The warm air, the dim light, the mystical nature of the images developing before their eyes…it was captivating. She had been examining one picture in particular, in which she was sitting in her dress, the white fabric layered all around her, holding a crystal glass of champagne in one hand, and resting her head on her other.
I sat in the darkroom, listening quietly as the shadows etched their words deep into my skin. They crept slowly, swallowing my flesh in darkness as their whispers caressed my ears. The darkroom, which had long before been a comfort to me, now became my tomb. And as I lay myself to rest, I knew the shadows would accompany me in this darkroom forever.
A room with no light, where not even shadows exist. All alone, I sit in this room, devoid of vision, of warmth. Why I’m here doesn’t matter, the reason has lost meaning, as I was driven mad by the darkness.
I woke up and there i was, in a darkroom all by myself. no one else. just me, myself, and i.
southamerican photographer. isabel allende’s books. camera. young girl. scent of lavender. summer afternoon. bees buzzing in the flowers. blue sky. breeze. tea with madeleines and jam. old lady in the garden.
A dark room is the perfect place to spend some time alone, to have a nice conversation with someone, to take time and see magic before your eyes, to meditate, to take time! is might also be a sexy place
I sat in the darkroom, listening quietly as the shadows etched their words deep into my skin. They crept slowly, swallowing my flesh in darkness as their whispers caressed my ears. The darkroom, which had long before been a comfort to me, now became my tomb. And as I lay myself to rest, I knew the shadows would accompany me in this darkroom forever.
The darkroom was…well, you know dark. But that’s not the first time I’ve felt like I was in an area, trapped, by my own insecurities and lack of light. In fact, all metaphors aside, this wasn’t the first time I was stuck in a darkroom. My girlfriend got pretty upset with me and locked me in a darkroom once…she was deeply into photography.
I cant see shit what am igonna do what if i fall on my ass and break something i guess we will just h ave to find out and see what happens. This is harder then it looks maybe its just me yeah it’s probably just me maybe I’ll get better. Where does this get sent what if someone ripps me a new one cause this blows. Honestly I don’t care just let it be
I was waiting in the darkroom with her,
her eyelashes flicked on and off like
light bulbs that weren’t there.
Her photo was one of style and character.
She’s shining in the darkest of places.
A product of the atmosphere around her.
un cuarto oscuro es un buen lugar para meditar, para pasar tiempo a solas, para compartir una buena platica o tener sexo a media luz (con esa sexy luz roja). Ver la imagen aparecer en el papel es algo mágico. Tomarse el tiempo de ver como sucede el proceso…TODAVÍA MÁS!
camera, film, cold, exposure, photobooth, beaty, chemicals, silence, one door, peaceful, work, hobby. It is a safe haven for a photgrapher. They see their own art come to life in that room. For a child it could be terrifying right before they fall a asleep. A dark room is their enemy.
I remember the lights. Red and damp feeling, like cool blood. Filling the room with a chemical smell, the opposite, however, of natural. It was always cold. And as our pictures came to life, the only warmth we felt was through the smiles on our faces as our shots came to life.
There’s a darkroom, and someone’s locked in it, and they scream on and on for someone else to come and release ’em, but their cries haven’t been answered yet, and they’re starting to lose all hope.
much nicer than digital. i like to move when i’m developing pictures. the light is much nicer but it makes me nervous. listen to music. move. dance a little. watch the clock but not too much. gloves are good. light is bad and expensive. best photos i’ve ever taken i developed myself. trees and people on buses. parks. snow.
Darkroom is something I traditionally associate with photography. Except, I dont know anything about photography. It is interesting however that I also thought of ‘Dark Knight’ the Batman sequel which makes me ponder how much influence entertainment has on our brains.
“I’m sorry I’m so naughty.”
You gulped and remained unconvinced.
I examined your enlarger, touching it gingerly, softly, not wanting to disrupt the set up. “I mean it. I wish I wasn’t so evil.”
You took a step back.
“That’s wise, but you can’t run. And in this room, dark as it is, you can’t hide. I was made to find you.”
Scary. A place where imaginations run wild. Monsters and demons and robbers. Sleepovers. Photography. Developing. Sleep. Pillows and blankets. Comfort! Silence. Peace. There are so many things that come to mind! Wow this is a really cool invention! I should do this everyday!
this dark room smelled like whiskey and old musk. where was i? it was raining out and the room had been very damp. i was waiting for my friend, she was late. as i inhaled my camel cigarette, i looked down at my wet chuck taylors, cut off jeans and flannel shirt. was this even real? what had happened? my hair was down, blonde and messy. mascara had been all over my face,
Oh yes, that Is à great store in London! They sell ceramics, paintings and other great things :-)
a dark room is the scariest thing i can think of. so small and confining, so dark and mysterious, so bleak and ominous. but how does it stack up against other things? not that well. it’s just a room. it’s a little dark. but turn on a light and you might find something you miss.
there is photography and it is dark and it is a room there is a darkroom i have never been in a darkroom i don’t understand this exercise. There is only so much I can say about a darkroom. Is this for my benefit? What am I going to get out of this? I don’t know. There is a purple line moving across HOLY SHIT it is getting more and more purply. Purply. That’s a fun word.
Darkroom? Um. A room that is dark with no windows or light. Sounds so lonely and scary. Holy cow. I hate the dark. I run when I have to turn off the light. DARKROOM? AUGH.
The room was as dark as a bats cave. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck. My body shook.