I sat in my darkroom with my pictures hanging from a string. She was so beautiful, the way I could capture her in a photo was amazing. She looked so innocent and naive. But she knew better. She knew that people leave, maturity is not a number but the experiences that occur and that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have. She was smart but she didn’t show it. Of course she didn’t, because who would want someone smart when you can have someone beautiful?
There isn’t a dark enough room in the whole world to hold my secrets. I want to hide in the corner and just stew in them for a while. Sometimes it feels like my life is a darkroom. But there is always hope. God is there. he is light. He is the giant light in the darkroom that is the whole world. He can save us all from the dark. When I feel I’m in the darkroom, I need to call on him.
There are photos in a darkroom. People in photography classes in high schools use dark rooms. So do college photography majors and people who are professional photographers. Although it’s becoming less and less of a necessity with digital photography now. I guess it could mean just a regular old dark room, a room absent of light of any kind.
I would love to be inside a dark room. This is where all of my thinking is done and it allows me to be happy and myself and not have to worry about how other people think of me. Sometimes I know this is the safest place and I want to be there, but sometimes its bad for me because I will cry when nothing is wrong.
How do you know how long it will be in the darkroom until you find light?
In the dark is when the eye begins to see, without pressure or pretty distractions.
I sit in a dark room and wonder if I’m alone. But now I’m looking at this word and realize that it’s darkroom, which is a photography term. My father used to have a darkroom – it was our bathroom. He put a blanket over the window and another one over the door to make it totally dark. His enlarger was in there too. Strange place for a darkroom and even stranger to use as a bathroom. Oh, the memories.
in the darkroom there was a girl, I was standing next to her, her hand slowly clasped mine, and we embraced eachother, a sweet, soft kiss, only a moment, but I left, feeling uplifted. It was only later than I tried to get her back in, to further our endeavours, but she was reluctant, only to ignore me.
there are things watching you. they won’t touch you or harm you, but they’ll stare at you all night. you won’t be able to see them, but you’ll feel them all around you. who knows, maybe one night they’ll pounce.
Mr. Koop told the boys to leave, and I smiled. His favoritism and sexism was the best part of photography. I stood, in braids, by the projector, and he rested his hand on my shoulder for a few seconds too long.
I developed the photo I. The darkroom. I wasn’t sure what was on it, but I knew it was going to be important. As the photo came into clarity I found myself aghast. “What exactly had happened” I asked myself.
that’s where my dad developes the pictures he takes. but he rarely does his photography anymore. I think photography is an awesome hobby; I’d like to get involved in it someday. but geez, those nice nikon cameras are pricey.
Oh that darkroom. It was his sanctum. It was the only place he felt… real. Important. Not alone. He was all alone in the world. Just him and his camera.
A dark room carries many things that one can’t see, obviously. It could have a bed, a desk, a lamp, all sorts of things. Let’s see if you know the room, walk around, and see if you bump into anything. Life is like a dark room. Wander.
in the darkroom there is time to discover secrets. Secrets of ancient texts and lives once forgotten. Waiting to be discovered, the damp images hang on a thin line. exposed. red.
It had been so long. Waiting, wondering. Hoping this would end. Praying to god they would come back. Stuck in this room, cold, dark, and worried. I had a fucking essay to write and needed that goddamn light bulb. Shit where are they? They left a month ago…
I was sitting here, alone in a dark room. The sky was out for the night, and I had no lights. I am a pioneer. I like the dark, it is the place I live. It’s empty, silent and peaceful. The bats fly by and I sing and then I die. What? I’m tired of thinking in a darkroom. I still have one minute to continue writing. The dark room emptied, light poured in. I’m not a pioneer, I’m not special. I’m just on the computer at 3am and everything’s pitch black. But mother comes in the room and turns the light on and tells me to go to sleep, but I can’t. blah blah blah
photographs in an old mans attic. climbing stairs to unearth memories untold. acid liquid and film come together to create beauty, love told and untold loves. memories of old and future created by a simple reaction of chemistry
Once in the darkroom at my school, I met a girl. We sat under the table waiting for our pictures to develop. While we waited, we told each other stories, we spoke about our lives and our passions. We walked in with undeveloped film and walked out with a best friend.
Dark dark darkened dark
I sit alone
Wish you were here
Darling, you’re mine
but Dark, so Dark
Wish I knew
But light cannot know Dark so well
so well as it lights a darkened room
We all have gifts that we must bring
You save the memories
and I brighten those darkenedrooms
I’m sitting here in a darkroom wondering what will happen to me. I lost my friends, my faith and my trust. I’m sick of crying and feeling like shit, I just want to be alone forever. Then he came along and made me feel special about myself, maybe there is hope for me.
The darkroom filled with smoke as I ran, choking, toward the dim rectangle of light that was the door. I could still hear him calling out from the darkness behind me and I ran faster. Just as I was about to collapse I heard the sound of sirens. But then I heard him laugh behind me. Something heavy hit my head. And I was gone.
there is a darkroom with no visible end and no visible start cause it is so dang dark… yes it is re3ally dark and I can not see a thing I walk forward and I bump into something. It coulxd be a wall or it could be just a box
a place where you can make photos come to life
make them dark or light or contrasted or not make them flash burnout(ed..) make them pop or be dull dark
photos everything.
black and white
sephia
color
photostrips
film
photo
in a darkroom there are photos that need editing. it is a place free from the outside where you can create and dream and be. simply be. who knows what will come out into the light. it will be beautiful. it will be you.
The darkness of this room was terrifying. The light had gone out and I had never been so terrified of a room. I stubbed my toe searching for the door, desperate for any source of light. I screamed and then covered my mouth in fear someone in the darkness would hear.
The darkroom was a place that everything dark happened. I deemed it that title accordingly because of the darkness that went on in there. Darkness surrounded every bit of that room and encompassed all who dwelled there.
cold lost alone. sitting on the empty pavement. white van sweeps me up. and here is where I lie now. the end. I should have known that it would end like this. alone. always alone. ductape holds my tounge from crying help
i am usually sleeping when i am in a dark room. but not this time. this time, i’m struggling with what i said to her. the way she looked when i said it. did i mean it? did i really mean it? she has to know i love her. but how can i make sure of it? starting tomorrow, i’m going to change.
its very inky dark and the light is sneaking in under the door. The mouse is sitting on the floor hoping that the homeowner doesn’t find him. He looks for the smallest crumb that might be lying on the floor.
This semester I got to try my first dark room. It was an amazing experience and let me dive headfirst into the world of photography. I loved the quiet of the darkroom where I could relax and have the rest of the chaotic world of school melt away while I focused solely on film, developer, paper. Of course, my first trials didn’t turn out very well. In fact, hardly any did–except two pictures, both of which were stunningly perfect and I now keep close to my heart.
Putting the film on the reels was the worst; it was claustrophobic at the juncture, not even the red safety light. Film never went on the reels easily and if it took more than a minute, it was terrifying.
I love sitting in darkrooms with my laptop looking at pictures and listening to music. I feel like no one can see me, i feel like im in my own world. I feel like i cant be bothered.
I stepped into his dark room, drawn in by the light released by his eyes. His bright, pearly eyes. No one ever told me what would happen should I follow him into his room. But, sadly enough for me, I had to find out…
im in a dark room. i smell chemicals. people are dipping photos…developing. i cant see there no light i bump around feeling my way. the dark is frightning its the unknown a fear. not knowing whats right in front of you is one of mans greastes fears. it always will be
I remember senior year when I took photos with Simon. We would always goof off in the dark room. Those days were the best, not only because I had so much fun with a rekindled friend, but also because I knew how many other seniors had dicked around in that same darkroom. laughing and having a killer time. I will never forget that room or that class. It forged a friendship that became my BEST.
Darkroom. Lit up with smoke. The children choked and cried. The light would not penetrate. Each breath was a desire for knowledge beyond the unseen, which surrounded them like an inky cloak thrown over the shoulders of a stern night king. The most trying test was that of faith.
you wake up in a dark room, nothing is there and you can’t make out anything. your eyes start to adapt to the low light levels in the room and you discover that your first guess was wrong, theres a door. you walk to the door and try to open it, and discover its locked.
I think of the lyrics “dark road” by annie something-or-other. We danced to in in Walla Wall at a dance intensive. The lyrics are “it’s a dark road that leads to my heart…”
then I think of fourth grade and developing pinhole camera pictures in a makeshift dark room with my class.
I sat in my darkroom with my pictures hanging from a string. She was so beautiful, the way I could capture her in a photo was amazing. She looked so innocent and naive. But she knew better. She knew that people leave, maturity is not a number but the experiences that occur and that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have. She was smart but she didn’t show it. Of course she didn’t, because who would want someone smart when you can have someone beautiful?
There isn’t a dark enough room in the whole world to hold my secrets. I want to hide in the corner and just stew in them for a while. Sometimes it feels like my life is a darkroom. But there is always hope. God is there. he is light. He is the giant light in the darkroom that is the whole world. He can save us all from the dark. When I feel I’m in the darkroom, I need to call on him.
There are photos in a darkroom. People in photography classes in high schools use dark rooms. So do college photography majors and people who are professional photographers. Although it’s becoming less and less of a necessity with digital photography now. I guess it could mean just a regular old dark room, a room absent of light of any kind.
I would love to be inside a dark room. This is where all of my thinking is done and it allows me to be happy and myself and not have to worry about how other people think of me. Sometimes I know this is the safest place and I want to be there, but sometimes its bad for me because I will cry when nothing is wrong.
How do you know how long it will be in the darkroom until you find light?
In the dark is when the eye begins to see, without pressure or pretty distractions.
A darkroom.
It should be called a truthroom.
I sit in a dark room and wonder if I’m alone. But now I’m looking at this word and realize that it’s darkroom, which is a photography term. My father used to have a darkroom – it was our bathroom. He put a blanket over the window and another one over the door to make it totally dark. His enlarger was in there too. Strange place for a darkroom and even stranger to use as a bathroom. Oh, the memories.
in the darkroom there was a girl, I was standing next to her, her hand slowly clasped mine, and we embraced eachother, a sweet, soft kiss, only a moment, but I left, feeling uplifted. It was only later than I tried to get her back in, to further our endeavours, but she was reluctant, only to ignore me.
there are things watching you. they won’t touch you or harm you, but they’ll stare at you all night. you won’t be able to see them, but you’ll feel them all around you. who knows, maybe one night they’ll pounce.
Mr. Koop told the boys to leave, and I smiled. His favoritism and sexism was the best part of photography. I stood, in braids, by the projector, and he rested his hand on my shoulder for a few seconds too long.
I developed the photo I. The darkroom. I wasn’t sure what was on it, but I knew it was going to be important. As the photo came into clarity I found myself aghast. “What exactly had happened” I asked myself.
that’s where my dad developes the pictures he takes. but he rarely does his photography anymore. I think photography is an awesome hobby; I’d like to get involved in it someday. but geez, those nice nikon cameras are pricey.
Oh that darkroom. It was his sanctum. It was the only place he felt… real. Important. Not alone. He was all alone in the world. Just him and his camera.
A dark room carries many things that one can’t see, obviously. It could have a bed, a desk, a lamp, all sorts of things. Let’s see if you know the room, walk around, and see if you bump into anything. Life is like a dark room. Wander.
in the darkroom there is time to discover secrets. Secrets of ancient texts and lives once forgotten. Waiting to be discovered, the damp images hang on a thin line. exposed. red.
It had been so long. Waiting, wondering. Hoping this would end. Praying to god they would come back. Stuck in this room, cold, dark, and worried. I had a fucking essay to write and needed that goddamn light bulb. Shit where are they? They left a month ago…
I am developing you like a roll of film in a darkroom, and if I turn on the light I’ll lose you so we can just keep this in the dark for now.
I was sitting here, alone in a dark room. The sky was out for the night, and I had no lights. I am a pioneer. I like the dark, it is the place I live. It’s empty, silent and peaceful. The bats fly by and I sing and then I die. What? I’m tired of thinking in a darkroom. I still have one minute to continue writing. The dark room emptied, light poured in. I’m not a pioneer, I’m not special. I’m just on the computer at 3am and everything’s pitch black. But mother comes in the room and turns the light on and tells me to go to sleep, but I can’t. blah blah blah
photographs in an old mans attic. climbing stairs to unearth memories untold. acid liquid and film come together to create beauty, love told and untold loves. memories of old and future created by a simple reaction of chemistry
Once in the darkroom at my school, I met a girl. We sat under the table waiting for our pictures to develop. While we waited, we told each other stories, we spoke about our lives and our passions. We walked in with undeveloped film and walked out with a best friend.
Dark dark darkened dark
I sit alone
Wish you were here
Darling, you’re mine
but Dark, so Dark
Wish I knew
But light cannot know Dark so well
so well as it lights a darkened room
We all have gifts that we must bring
You save the memories
and I brighten those darkenedrooms
I’m sitting here in a darkroom wondering what will happen to me. I lost my friends, my faith and my trust. I’m sick of crying and feeling like shit, I just want to be alone forever. Then he came along and made me feel special about myself, maybe there is hope for me.
The darkroom filled with smoke as I ran, choking, toward the dim rectangle of light that was the door. I could still hear him calling out from the darkness behind me and I ran faster. Just as I was about to collapse I heard the sound of sirens. But then I heard him laugh behind me. Something heavy hit my head. And I was gone.
there is a darkroom with no visible end and no visible start cause it is so dang dark… yes it is re3ally dark and I can not see a thing I walk forward and I bump into something. It coulxd be a wall or it could be just a box
a place where you can make photos come to life
make them dark or light or contrasted or not make them flash burnout(ed..) make them pop or be dull dark
photos everything.
black and white
sephia
color
photostrips
film
photo
in a darkroom there are photos that need editing. it is a place free from the outside where you can create and dream and be. simply be. who knows what will come out into the light. it will be beautiful. it will be you.
The darkness of this room was terrifying. The light had gone out and I had never been so terrified of a room. I stubbed my toe searching for the door, desperate for any source of light. I screamed and then covered my mouth in fear someone in the darkness would hear.
The darkroom was a place that everything dark happened. I deemed it that title accordingly because of the darkness that went on in there. Darkness surrounded every bit of that room and encompassed all who dwelled there.
cold lost alone. sitting on the empty pavement. white van sweeps me up. and here is where I lie now. the end. I should have known that it would end like this. alone. always alone. ductape holds my tounge from crying help
i am usually sleeping when i am in a dark room. but not this time. this time, i’m struggling with what i said to her. the way she looked when i said it. did i mean it? did i really mean it? she has to know i love her. but how can i make sure of it? starting tomorrow, i’m going to change.
its very inky dark and the light is sneaking in under the door. The mouse is sitting on the floor hoping that the homeowner doesn’t find him. He looks for the smallest crumb that might be lying on the floor.
lovely place to developed pictures. creativity comes alive. true photography. pictures at their best. love.
This semester I got to try my first dark room. It was an amazing experience and let me dive headfirst into the world of photography. I loved the quiet of the darkroom where I could relax and have the rest of the chaotic world of school melt away while I focused solely on film, developer, paper. Of course, my first trials didn’t turn out very well. In fact, hardly any did–except two pictures, both of which were stunningly perfect and I now keep close to my heart.
Putting the film on the reels was the worst; it was claustrophobic at the juncture, not even the red safety light. Film never went on the reels easily and if it took more than a minute, it was terrifying.
I love sitting in darkrooms with my laptop looking at pictures and listening to music. I feel like no one can see me, i feel like im in my own world. I feel like i cant be bothered.
I stepped into his dark room, drawn in by the light released by his eyes. His bright, pearly eyes. No one ever told me what would happen should I follow him into his room. But, sadly enough for me, I had to find out…
im in a dark room. i smell chemicals. people are dipping photos…developing. i cant see there no light i bump around feeling my way. the dark is frightning its the unknown a fear. not knowing whats right in front of you is one of mans greastes fears. it always will be
I remember senior year when I took photos with Simon. We would always goof off in the dark room. Those days were the best, not only because I had so much fun with a rekindled friend, but also because I knew how many other seniors had dicked around in that same darkroom. laughing and having a killer time. I will never forget that room or that class. It forged a friendship that became my BEST.
Darkroom. Lit up with smoke. The children choked and cried. The light would not penetrate. Each breath was a desire for knowledge beyond the unseen, which surrounded them like an inky cloak thrown over the shoulders of a stern night king. The most trying test was that of faith.
you wake up in a dark room, nothing is there and you can’t make out anything. your eyes start to adapt to the low light levels in the room and you discover that your first guess was wrong, theres a door. you walk to the door and try to open it, and discover its locked.
I think of the lyrics “dark road” by annie something-or-other. We danced to in in Walla Wall at a dance intensive. The lyrics are “it’s a dark road that leads to my heart…”
then I think of fourth grade and developing pinhole camera pictures in a makeshift dark room with my class.