risinglightstudio - Tumblr blog

risinglightstudio · 7 years

Photo

#SupportTheArts : Become my Patron via @Patreon and get hella cool shit. https://www.patreon.com/CarlyONeilVisArts

6 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 7 years

Text

Missing Items:

I miss Rick. And Rusty…..and all those that I have collaborated with who have moved on to the next magical reassimilation of renewed collected atoms and neutrons.

I miss my studio, the southern light, the bird’s nest above Baltimore, where I finally had a real home, a successful career, put many ghosts to bed, and turn- became one myself. I miss inspiring and having that creative inspiration pouring from my pores.

I miss Sunset Park and the invigorating community, full of life and promise.

I miss my ‘family’- all those that have crossed my path and became frozen in time with me via hundredths and thousandths of seconds that expressed lifetimes of love and loss and emotion. I miss being heard, healed and hopeful. I miss my art- my heart. I miss being missed, mattering and the mountains.

I miss the naivette of thinking that expectations being met half-way, but at least half is twice as much as none. I miss respect, consent and freedom of choice. I miss the days that it seems like there are people who have my back, want the best for and from me, in exchange for a ten-fold return on investment.

I miss the days that I trusted myself to remember to breathe, and to feel my heart beating instead of constantly racing or nearly ceasing to be felt.

I miss the concept that what you give is what you get, and believing it, blindly- as though determination were destiny.

I miss….. 'me’.

8 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 7 years

Text

Some- of the Millions of Reasons Why

I hate you for never leaving when asked. I hate you for expelling me from what was mine. I hate you for still existing. I hate you for the time that has been stolen from me, despite your absence. I hate you for the gaping black hole that is where my heart used to be. But most of all- I hate myself for allowing you to exist to begin with. You took what was good in me, and turned it against me.

self-portrait: 2015 / wr:2016 - @carlyoneil aka @duovisum: @visumadastra

21 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 7 years

Text

It’s In-Between My Ears

Where do I start? Where was it you left off?

When exactly did you decide that the sound of my voice is merely a mutable mouthful, assuming that I had already finished before I started?

When an ear, or eye is necessary-you find me. When a hand or heart is warranted, you find me.

……And let’s admit it: you always know where to find me, despite my tendency to tenderly take time-out, as the seconds tick tick tick, like a bomb about to explode inside my own head.

The hermit hides to heal, but the explosions between my ears become echoed- the delayed redundancy drives me down. Do-excuse…..

My exaltations are misinterpreted and death threats bounce with a buoyant bliss from your lips like sweet Sakura blossoms tossed into the wind. (As if Death is something so easily sought. She hides inside our hearts, and to awaken her from slumber not a wise wish, when she is so insatiably hungry after hibernation.)

How?….

The question gets lost inside of a hundred different threads of thought that spring from monumental memories and manipulations that make me question the original momentum of your flippant fallacy, and attempts to masks the monster. in my own memento mori I am that monster, and so I suppose you a mediocre monster….

….. but I have to remember that the House Of Mirrors is host to hauntings and hopes held in ransom. I wonder why i prefer this dynamic? Why do I feel as though I must hold all the cards when you are such a talented dealer of stacked decks?

Whispers wonder ’will she ever…..?’ I know that the patience needed to wait for the orchid’s centennial bloom seems futile when you can, instead, berate the bloom for the pace by which she bleeds after being plucked from blossom?

My mind whizzes with timestreams and time stamped tremors, equations of life and longing, the rhythm and the melody, and each and every articulation of instance-in order to align the outcome with the intended intonations. Aligning time with tactile, life becomes the tattle tale that never seems to be ashamed of its unabashed uselessness.

Sadness seeps into the cracks between bats of eyelash, knowing that ’somewhere out there’ is unreachable from over here, having been hollowed out so hard, that even the hyenas seem uninterested in hashing out who gets the heart.

Had you hesitated in heaving, I could have helped, could have pretended not to have heard. This is my only applicable gift- to gently let you off the hook, but you have implanted hooks just beneath my skin and your pulling on puppet strings pricks my skin as those snake-like daggers sneak closer to the surface and threaten to tear out all temptation to take you at face value.

I know you, monster. You’re the same numb, but then- nimble in your knack to nonchalantly choke the choice out of your prey.

I know you, monster. You’re the same sorry simpleton, but unyielding in your solicitations to seek, to shape, to shift.

I know you- monster…..censor….pastor….prince.

9 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 7 years

Photo

Their Privilege is Her Destiny. n0v.!3.2o|6

20 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 8 years

Text

The Prescient Nature of Art

Reviewing some of my work, these last few tumultuous months that actually add up to more than a year…..and ran across ‘Blue’- my very first short film.

I had previously learned the craft, rather crash-course inside a few days, when making Love Notes and the Behind the Scenes during the Atomic Canary days….

vimeo

The reason for this post, however, is that I’d like to call attention to @desalle artistry as a dancer and model.

I’m lucky, also, to call her friend. We’ve posed together, grown up inside NYC- albeit never with enough time to do much than check in and do lunch and chat-whine about the subways because of the hectic pace the city throws its residents into satisfying….

Can we all just stand and applaud the artistry that is DeSalle aka ‘PandaJean’, as those of us close to her refer to her….. She is a true dancer. A true artist.

Learning timing and translation of that timing against a piece of music, and the ability to mold art into a fourth dimension is what makes me sentimental my dance upbringing and brought with it the utmost respect and confidence in how it shaped me as an artist- both in the sense of being able to be constantly translating others’ artforms, as well as being the foundation of my own work.

True dancers understand time, and what the repetition of time means. How each little push, pull and drag across the floor can-fluidly and ethereally, reveal with each incarnation of emotion through motion is a secret that any true dancer carries inside of her, whether there is the awareness thereof that intrinsic nature or not. This kind of connection in the multi-dimensional aspect of your own art, and the ripple-effect each movement can have, can be translated at least sociologically into every other artform.

Timing, and the pushing and pulling thereof is central to the entire concept of photography, and not limited to movement-based art forms. It can be just a four-dimensional as any performance artist.

I had no idea what this film would turn into; that knowing her to be the closest person to the suddenly deceased mutual-best-friend, Rick Ochoa, could allow for me to channel through her my Future Self, editing and mourning; just days after we filmed this piece, we learned of Rick’s passing.

What the editing process taught me inside of that emotional moment was that, as an artist I have a unique opportunity of being able to channel present, past and future-tense into something that later could be a visual definition of the overwhelming loss that we knew; Friendship is a bond of blood more true than that of family, at times, and as I edited, was aware of both the pain of my own loss, but what her loss also meant.

I edited this film, through them, for him.

(Photo above: Carly by Rick Ochoa circa 2013)

That’s where the collaborative magic of art occurs.

It’s inescapable as an artist- but truly magic to those of us who have danced, and respect timing, phrasing and the occasional awkward pause.

To ‘not be alone’ is the crux and curse of humanity.

Male vs. female, cool vs. nerdy- our lives are presented with dualities…. sometimes those dualities can collide into something that is prescient in nature.

Explore, Experiment, Expand. Be the artist. Make the shots.

Decide what they mean later- because if they didn’t have a deeper meaning when they were shot, they will- one day. It’s all a part of your story.

Our story was all a part of his story. So naturally- they collided.

Find your pattern. It’s there. You are merely speaking to yourself in a bit of a code- a trail of breadcrumbs, if you will. Shoot for you- not for your subject to unlock this hidden message; If you don’t like your work, neither will the subject of your work, so pleasing them becomes a mute point.

Art your little heart out.

And be patient; whether through your own achievements, or life’s way of testing us with seemingly-overwhelming obstacles….. you’re in there….. somewhere.

In Blue, in the clouds, in the sunbeams, in songs, in my dreams and on my desktop I see Rick. I feeeeeel Rick. Had I not just crossed something off my “shot-list To Dos”, I would not have this piece above which brings him so near to me each time I see it. What then?

Don’t eliminate the history of collaboration from Art. Everything you create- good or bad, is another piece of the tessellating life that is one of Artistic Expression.

Sometimes all you have to do is just pick up the camera, and let the light guide you. Because there’s nothing left *to* do. (See above. Be patient.)

-Carly O’Neil ( @duovisum / @carlyadastra / @carlyrocksphotography )

14 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 8 years

Photo

#coughcoughBULLSHIT.

Yeahhhhhhhhh…….so @meetup TOTALLY FAILED.

I’m gonna go ahead and be arrogant: We, the freelance models and studios who have collaborated for nearly FIFTEEN YEARS NOW…. and they drop this bomb, full of stigma and bullshittery.

****After we have made them hundreds of thousands of dollars…..*****

Meanwhile: Someone stands to earn a cool few millie for the spin-off. #AHEM @modelmayhemofficial; Stand up for our rights. We’ve also made *you* a fuck ton of cash.

At least #Facebook allows money to be sent in their platform now- something LONG overdue per event organization….

On a more philosophically political note: Isn’t this kiiiiinda illegal?

I know that we sign off a lot of rights when we agree to any stupid TOS, …BUT…. isn’t this also akin to that whole gay-cake-debacle!? Class-action for all Meetup fees paid including the monthly hosting fee?

This is censorship, plain and simple.

Hate to say it, but I’m definitely NOT going to keep paying $20mo to be marginalized and treated like a 12 year old in a hayloft in the Bible Belt.

#SuperGross.

I am *SO* disappointed…..we’ve come so far building this industry, back when ‘Freelancer’ was just another ‘F word’, and ‘nude’ automatically meant ‘prostitute, only to be slapped in the face with more hypocrisy, while women are more open now than ever to love their body just the way it is, and brazen enough to reveal their bodies to their lovers…justlook at the money being spent in the Boudoir market, or social media headshots….or the uptick in lingerie sales….

11 notes · View notes

risinglightstudio · 8 years

Photo

All ready to go! Visit https://www.etsy.com/shop/CarlyONYC to purchase! :)