Parcel Magazine

I talk to people in my community. The people that I come into contact with during my real, lived-in experience. What is so strange about that? 

I have always wanted to simplify my experiences. The things that I spend my time doing; reading, writing, watching movies, listening to music, skateboarding, and shooting photos. These are things that can be done without a cellphone, they have no responsibility to be “posted”. They are acts of entertainment and creativity, and are ways to become inspired and to express myself.

I fear that social media has transformed what it means to engage in these acts. We are asked to share, to caption, and to comment. We are asked to make sure that we do not experience these things alone, and that everyone around us knows what it is that we do.

What does that mean for ourselves? How do we associate what we do as individuals, with what society and socail media demand of us? To do what is trending, what is postable, what will generate the most likes, comments, and follows? What, if anything, have we done for ourselves?

Removing myself from this practice, I hope to find myself more engaged in the things that I enjoy doing, not for the sake of others, but for the sake of myself. I hope to become closer with my community, to reach out to people through talking or texting, and to engage people that I want to see because I think of them, not becasue I saw them on instagram and reached out through there.

I beleive there is a difference. A significant difference between calling on these people around you, those who are part of your immediate circle, or people you meet in person, than attemt to maintain relationships online.

What is it really that brings us together?

I’m sitting in my closet desk like Harry Potter, listening to Yoshimura’s Green album, drinking coffee, and attempting to find a tone in which to write this introduction. I think tone, in many ways, is very important to a work of art’s success. I’ve been noticing that in the struggle to find it myself. If there is a good tone in say, a song, then a listener will automatically be able to identify with it. The same with writing. If the speaker's tone is something that the reader recognizes, whether it’s themselves, or someone they know, it allows them to relate to it. Tone is the most honest of voices, the truest form of the artist. At least, I like to think so.

Skateboarding, painting, music, design, writing, photography, or fashion all require tone. It may be subtle, like in the specific way that J. Thomas Brown changes key throughout his songs, or the specific style of Jackson Sjogren’s film, blending different camera elements with a consistent style of music that evokes a tone he is after. It’s the way the characters of Gabriel Isaac Kasor’s paintings introduce a world behind their gaze, suggested by their gestures and colors. Tone is how we recognize someone’s work, but more accurately, how the work is able to communicate with us. We find something in the tone that we feel. We hear the voice of the artist.

For this first issue of Parcel Magazine, there is no theme. But something that has emerged from the initial interviews is this idea of tone - it’s significance, and also it’s difficulty. Somehow, these people have managed to find it, and I’m jealous. But at the very least, I see how they did it, and I can keep trying, and hopefully, one day . . .