Sunday, May 5, 2013

Damn Blogging




This damn blogging habit began because I wanted to work for or own my own magazine.  The magazine addiction clearly blamed on my Aunt Beulah who kept me quiet with basket fulls of women's publications in the early 1960's.  I inhaled the scent of the ink, shivered in my loins at the feel of the glossy paper and fell inside the world of each photograph.  

It would seem that by writing this post I could end up slitting my own throat; never to ever, ever, ever be offered a writing-photog assignment with any magazine. Mainly because of what I am about to say. Magazines are expensive. Particularly if you want to buy them all and then you realize that you can basically grab all the content and stellar pictures online from pretty much anywhere.  




Ladies, take my advice. Buy your mags and hide them. Stuff them inside your handbag. Own an ample handbag for this purpose. Just sneak them into the house.  You won't want your partner to know you are spending $360 a month on printed matter only to recycle it at the curb a month later. Even if it does matter to your emotional and creative well-being. 

Perhaps like me, you don't have room in your snug budget for small indulgences like magazines.  Maybe you can't justify buying them anymore when your inspiration boards on social media give you all you lust after.  Even when you can buy 3 for $10 at local big box stores. You know these massive places. The ones where uninspired and exhausted humans trudge the aisles because ultimately it is the cheapest place to buy food, diapers (for all ages) and toilet paper. 



If you are poor, broke or nearly there, I suggest you get an adorable library card and begin loving the shushing  sounds of these exceptional buildings.  Yes. They still exist. Without a single penny you may leisurely flip through many issues of all your favorites. Take your moleskin notebook and best silver slim pen and take notes. Jot down ideas, names and websites. This is my strategy and now my secret is out.



Damn blogging. Oh how I love thee. Damn magazines. Oh how I love thee more. I know I've laid it all open here. My chance for editorial fame sinking, drifting away.  But who knows. Perhaps I'll work for a magazine some day or own my own. It could happen.







Patti Friday, Photojourno, reporting from inside 'The Art Dept.' at the international 'Embassy of Ideas'.
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