Sweet Seals For You, Always
RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost

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DEAR READER
taylor price
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JBB: An Artblog!

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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occasionally subtle
art blog(derogatory)

tannertan36
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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@evildoer420
the backrooms, inspired by teun hock “Untitled, 2000”
OKAY I CANNOT SHUT UP ABOUT THE BACKROOMS HERES MY INTERPRETATION + THEORY
Spoilers for the movie PLEASE WATCH IT
Was really interested going into this movie because as someone who isn’t very up to speed on any backrooms lore besides the og post I like the backrooms best when there are no monsters, but the environment itself makes you feel unsafe. You’re paranoid and panicking but then you get out and realize that there was nothing to be afraid of, nothing was even there to chase you in the first place it was just your mind tricking itself.
So I think it’s so interesting that this movie did both- there is a monster but it’s You. It’s a monster you made up it’s a physical manifestation of your fear. It hurts people because you hurt people. You’re unsafe because you created the environment and that means your fear is out to get you.
MEMORY FOAM THE STILL LIFES WERE MADE OF MEMORY FOAM THE BACKROOMS REMEMBERS
The backrooms are a failing brain trying to hold onto even the most basic of memories, even as they warp and decay.
The backrooms are generative AI trying to capture something real but only achieving a malformed, mindless imitation.
The backrooms are stagnation, an unwillingness to step into the new and uncomfortable effort of changing, instead running through the same old routine even as it starts to fall in on itself.
The backrooms are nostalgia cannibalizing itself, trying to remake and remake what it already knows without making anything new, until the familiar is so bastardized it's barely recognizable.
If Backrooms was a children’s book
"I like it in here"
Okay. But its going to consume you.
"We don't have to change"
Okay. But it's going to consume you.
Eventually you have to leave. Eventually you have to run. And its painful and it's so much harder than staying in the comfort of what you know. In that house that stopped being a home years ago. Living memories you've replayed so many times over and over that the details are warping and becoming hollowed out corpses.
And it will consume you when you least expect it. You'll rot right there along with the building foundations and distort right along with your memories.
You'll have to run eventually, even if that's not how you're wired.
The window was never locked.
a handprint made in concrete is just the image of a hand, it’s not the real thing. or, it’s the absence of a hand, more than anything, the negative space. the casing around where it should be. it’s an indent that was made from something real - that could not have existed without something real - but it’s not the real thing, it’s just trying to be. maybe it’s not even trying. you put your hand there with your mother and the concrete remembers, and the handprint doesn’t even know why it exists, it just does. if we can make copies and not-things from real things in the world, who’s the say the world couldn’t do that itself? does it even need to know why?
A little different than my usual art but the backrooms has gotten under my skin, in my brain, my soul.
The window within
Hooligans. Photo from my collection, 1955.
excalibur :)
The Favour - Alternatively - "I'm Drawing Merthur to feel something again"
It’s fine. I know what I’m doing. Photo from my collection, no date/info.
Flowering Garden (1888) by Vincent van Gogh