In the age of Instagram, it’s more than likely anyone new you meet has either already seen your online persona, or will look you up afterwards.
All things begin, end and begin again in fire. From the earliest dawning of humankind’s consciousness, fire has represented the most powerful and unrelenting source of change known to us.
Possession is symbiotic, the things we have, have us. There’s an intimacy that binds, that is forged as they live with you, against your skin.
If love is a blanket of darkness that, despite dilated pupils, constricts our sight into a single-track tunnel, floods our brains with stress hormones and turns us into a dizzy mess of preoccupation and restlessness; then intimacy is the light switch.
There is a sweet and sticky awkwardness of falling in love that never truly leaves, even after the days of high school and asking your parents’ permission to go out with your boyfriend. Like an ice cream melting down your fingers, sugary trails to be licked off hands and wrists, leaving behind a sticky residue.
How do you know you’re alive? Heartbeats? Breath? Pain? Love? Fear? Moments? Evidence left on your flesh? Risk? G-force? Caffeine? Existential dread?
Edition N°2 ponders the vast notion of being ALIVE.
What it means to be ALIVE seems to be just as elusive as the meaning of life itself.
Punk rock prodigy Patti Smith astutely observed, “Who can know the heart of youth but youth itself.”
We are, as Australians, intrepid by nature. Our location fuels our wanderlust, forcing our creative industries to be bold, to be heard. Our cultural isolation lending innovation and leading to world-class equivalence.
Technology has changed the meaning of influence. Where it was once the verb of inspiration, the burst of wind that propels one into changing course, the strike of a match starting a fire otherwise un-tindered; influence is now a currency.