At Large /SHARE
A Letter from Our Editor
“A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realise that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.” – A Single Man
We all just want to be a part of something. Part of a movement that requires us to believe; that feeds off intuition, inspiration and flashes a glance at moments that make us think ‘far out, maybe we can change the world’.
Some people call it a clan, a family, a tribe or in an extreme case, a cult. In every sense, it relies on contagious relationships, commitment to a cause and quite often, human charity.
But it’s not because we want something to worship – who wants to be a follower? Or just because we need something to understand. It’s driven by the need to believe in something that is worthy of that belief. Something we can truly feel, something real.
We called this our Faith issue and explored everything from cultures of youth and hedonism ruled by kids who wore Dr Martens as anarchist symbols, to the bottled up pre-Raphaelite passion of the Renaissance. We got caught up in dark romances, medieval mysticism and what it meant to be a proper punk. Accidents careered into possibilities and when caution warned we’d get into trouble, risk replied ‘that’s how we know it’s an adventure’.
It became about saluting the artwork that at first didn’t sell because no one knew at the time how good it was, the films that were almost not made and the gigantic love we could have pushed out the door because we thought he was an impossible risk to take. What happened did so because we believed it to. We shot crazy-cool Cara Delevingne on Coney Island at the final hour because we weren’t going to have it any other way.
It all could have gone so wrong but we trusted in it – and most of all, in each other.
It seems that when we find a way to fit together, we create a more powerful vision, allowing something great to happen when we indulge each other in our weirdness, or brilliance, whichever way you look at it.
What did we learn? Don’t give in to doubting. If it’s not working, change it. If you’re not falling (madly) for it, don’t do it.
Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. It’s conviction in what you can’t see but can feel, often deep down between the shoulder blades, in that place that you can never seem to reach on your own.
It is realising that you always get what you need.
It’s good to know, what is, is meant to be.