I don’t want to get too emotional, so back to the magazine. One of the formats I’m most attracted to is print. Someway I need the physical contact with my registers. Caress the paper with my hand. I love the idea of the blank canvas running its course. Every time I go back to this idea I remember something I discovered in my college years, a quote by Kandinsky: “Empty canvas. In appearance - really empty, silent, indifferent. Stunned, almost. In effect - full of tensions, with thousand subdued voices, heavy with expectations. A little frightened because it may be violated“. Thank you, Wassily. You made it all clear.
Because of this, I wanted the change I mentioned earlier. To leave behind for a while this modern, confusing world and go back to something as essential as a memory, a sensation reflected on paper. A book, a photograph, or a page in a notebook. Do some collection from this, not only mine, because that would be kinda boring. But also from the women that surround me and, I think, also share this compulsion to recollect everything.
Someway, this ended up being a publication about beautiful stories, and some mixed up interests (Italo Calvino and a famous Galaxy), and I’m really proud I got to (almost) finish it.