Never have we bought so much and never have people been so lacking _of everything.
Things one cannot find on any shelf, but which are sold out due to the speed of
changes inside each and everyone of us. Values are twisted, we see power surges,
poor criativity, pressure for delivering results. Some say we can flee from this ending
process, from entering the emptiness. Some say we can flee from being disposed of
when you have nothing more to offer.
“It’s the terror of knowing/
What this world is about/
Watching some good friends/
Screaming ‘Let me out’
The international fashion season of shows is much alike an information juggernaut who
transforms all the items into antiques from the past. Cut it. In the fashion coverage, the
world spins around who is who and who is going to replace whom, like a reflection of
the world in which presidents and dictators leave power _out of force or free will. It’s up
to you to choose which scenario should influence your life the most.
Who you are in the Sunday morning
In spite of being updated every second about the fashion weeks in Twitter, some say
fashion has lost its charm. Has this information overload killed the message? Is the
relevance of a piece of news measured by the amount of likes or retweets? Are you a
producer or a reproducer? Do you vomit things without digesting them? Are you really
inspired or does your inspiration stem from the influence of the masses? Who are you
in the crowd? So many questions, so few answers. 140 is not enough to explain the
emptiness we are living in.
This issue _and any issue of any given magazine_ stems from the emptiness. From
two blank pages on the computer screen (unless you are still editing things by hand
using paper and glue). Not having a theme means we can talk about anything, edit
A so it comes together with B so they become a pair or, together with some letters, a
word, a new meaning. Mixing photographers with unique works, unimportant of the
greater picture. There is no good or bad. Mixing different opinions so we can document
a period of time, a context. 2012.
In the middle of nothing, everything.
Devoid of anything. The black hole that sucks the universe and is transformed into
by ROMEU SILVEIRA