Inside the Dark Room with Brian Tolbert

I'm not a candle, and I'm not meant to burn out.

Brian Tolbert

In one of the photographs from Elile Kebede's visit to my home studio, I'm holding The Light Was Dim, a self-portrait with a candle where the top of my head should be.

That piece started with a smaller drawing, I Owe It to Myself. It was the first work I made after leaving my position as Director of Global Training and the perceived safety of corporate America. I was completely burned out. I felt stuck on a hamster wheel I couldn't get off. I was making too much money to walk away, but I felt so empty inside that I knew I couldn't stay. The drawing was a reminder: I'm not a candle, and I'm not meant to burn out.

The day I decided, I sat down with my wife first. I didn't have a clear plan, but I had so much conviction that she was willing to support my decision. Neither of us knew how it would work or what it would mean, but she had seen firsthand what the last several years had done to me, and the shell of myself I had become. At the time, what I felt most was relief. I had started getting back into my art practice, and I felt it could be a path worth pursuing. For the first time, I truly believed there was another way to be a professional artist besides the starving artist trope.

About seven months later, I reimagined that idea as The Light Was Dim. By then, I felt aligned with my purpose, but I was also running out of money. My art wasn't selling enough to cover my bills, and that tension found its way into the work.

It felt like the walls were closing in, like the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. There were moments when I doubted my decision. By the time I turned my house into a gallery for The Art of Vanity, my bank account had been overdrawn by $1,000 for a month, and PNC was threatening to close the account I'd had since I was 16. I had no idea where my next check would come from. But making art, and feeling like I was walking in my purpose, kept me going. You can see that tension in the portrait's colors and its black background. That's the walls closing in on me.

Those were some of the stories I shared during Elile's visit, along with how my practice began, a few works in progress, and what might come next.

Elile is a D.C.-based creative who works as InsidetheDarkroom, capturing real moments through a thoughtful, story-driven lens. Her monthly series, In Focus, features a different artist or creative each month, offering a closer look at their work and practice. I was honored to be her featured artist for September 2025.

One thing that always stands out about Elile is the range of formats she works with. I've never seen her show up with fewer than two cameras. That day, I think I counted four.

For as much as I share about my experiences and my journey, my home is an incredibly sacred space. It's my sanctuary. I stopped having friends over at a young age, after a close friend robbed me, and that still shapes how willing I am to let people into my personal space. Although I hadn't known Elile long, having her there felt like welcoming an old friend. Telling her those stories helped me reflect on parts of my journey I don't often slow down long enough to think about.

Take a look at some of the photographs from our time together. You can see The Light Was Dim and I Owe It to Myself in The Work. To learn more about Elile, visit InsidetheDarkroom and follow her on Instagram.

Photographs by Elile Kebede / InsidetheDarkroom

Learn more about Elile and her work at https://www.insidethedarkroom.com (opens in a new tab)

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