Letter from the Editor: September 2019 Digital

By Alana Valko, Editor-in-Chief

I am writing this in an airplane. The moment is fleeting and I am bound to only remember the act of it as time passes. The moments of my day so far: being cut in line twice, forgetting to pick up a prescription, and the kicking of the person behind me on the plane will erase into a pillow beside my head—their touch and feel billowing my thoughts, but not quite slithering into a memorable experience.

My plane just took off. I’m 30, 1,000, now 10,000 feet off the ground—moments that took only seconds in flight, but would be hours in trek. In those hours my feet would swell and my legs would grow weaker. My breath would get heavy and my water supply short. I would spend hours recovering from the strain I put on my back trying to fit that bulky sweater, too-large sleeping bag, and extra soup can into my backpack. I hiked 35 miles through the Smoky Mountains, to the top of Mount Cammerer, and to the bottom to set up tent. It took four days. This 10,000 foot trek included one crying baby and a few typed words. It took five minutes.

The theme of our September Digital issue is Moment. We use expired film rolls, digital cameras, and words to create a collection of captured moments, all which mingle into aromas of nostalgia, adventure and intrigue that you may feel throughout the issue. While all of these moments in time were shot and written separate from one another, some of them likely occurred at the same time, or at the very least, in the same span of summer. And in this span, our photo editor traveled from Mexico to Madrid, our features editor contemplated low-rise jeans and her cat, our creative director captured tender moments on expired film, and I—well I wrote this.

 Memories vary—most are quickly fleeting, but it is those special moments in time that have constituted our most important beliefs about who we are, what makes us happy, who makes us smile, and what makes us sad. For our board shoot, we brought ourselves into a sun-drenched field to capture our sweet, youthful selves on film. The memory of this issue may erode with time, but we will keep these Polaroids in the deep pockets of our storage. We will laugh about our “starter-packs” we listed under our names and smile for what we once embraced.  

For now I’ll take the pretzels, please.

Alana ValkoComment