#luciforms

So this story really starts about 2 months ago. I received a package sent all the way from Oakland by my dear friend Kelsey Doenges. In it was a Zine that was both perfect and imperfect. Short (20 pages), black and white, a cluster of images, text, one liners, what-have-you. It was a lot of fun to look through. An excellent, thoughtful gift on Kelsey’s part.

And that’s it.

“Cool story bro.”

Yeah, I know, but bear with me here.

As a creative person (who isn’t, honestly?) it was invigorating seeing something pieced together so haphazardly. Paging though it forced me to confront my own perfectionism and how it is more of a detractor from creating anything than a motivator. I’ve been toying around with the idea of starting a magazine for several years now. While I did create one in collaboration with some of my closest friends, I was unhappy with the final product. It wasn’t because of a lack of quality content, but more I was disappointed in myself and not adequately executing the shared vision we had for it.

So beyond that first issue, there has been nothing with the exception of the occasional “We gotta get it going again!” conversation. The idea of the effort required getting everyone together and on the same page seems overwhelming, and maybe I’m just lazy, so I’ve been figuring out how to get something off the ground where the only person I need to hold accountable for the product is myself. The problem is that I think about the product to the point that the effort seemingly required to create “perfection” becomes greater than my will’s ability to conquer it. I could have a weak will or an overactive imagination. Depending on who you ask I’m sure people will tell you both.

Hello, my name is Ian. Nice to meet you.

But even though I am able to identify (part of) the problem as I have before this, I still do nothing to pursue a solution.

To the point where I find myself *here* again. Another night of meaningless consumption: talk shows, sports, sports highlights, news, social media, video games. Constantly checking my phone, eyes and ears bleeding. Becoming numb to the same thing day-in and day-out. I’m beginning to recognize that this is the root of depression: when you willingly participate in activities again and again that you know aren’t in the least bit fulfilling. It’s easy really: sitting, doing nothing, consuming. It is much harder to face the malaise and create something out of it.

But this is where it gets a little complicated.

Putting this together is not easy for me, and sharing it is an even greater obstacle (case and point, I’ve been editing this article and sitting on it for over a month and half now). I read other people contributing to public discourse (mostly Facebook) and it’s infuriatingly oversimplified (so I think). That their ideas are either not very well thought out or they are missing something entirely (so I think). That clearly I am different. That I am unique and struggle in a way that no one else does, and that all of these tormenting emotions mean more to me than they do to other people. Hey everyone! This is my pity party! Feel sorry for me! Cue the music!

On a more serious note, you might find yourself thinking the same exact things as you read this, and I would be just as upset by you having that thought about me as you would be of me having that thought about your content. It’s reciprocal. Very meta.

And who knows, maybe I do think differently and struggle differently, but in the grand scheme of things, I don’t. I really don’t. You don’t, either, whether you (or I) are aware of it or not. And no matter how many times I tell myself this, I still don’t believe it; all of this despite knowing that if I want to connect with anyone in a more meaningful way, I need to believe in them. I need to trust them.

But this isn’t about me. Because we all need to trust each other! Have some faith! We all share the experience of the human condition. We just don’t talk about it because hyper-political, sensational social-networking/television content is the norm of water-cooler talk, not existentialism.

Is that a rabbit hole?

Whatever.

What I’m trying to get at is that I’ve finally reached the point where the consequences of doing nothing (depression, cynicism, disconnection, existential angst (oh the angst)) outweigh the consequences of saying too much (judgement of others which will occur whether I share anything or not, the pressure put upon myself to create something I’m proud of). I’ve been paralyzed by the thought of coming up with a mission statement for the past EIGHT MONTHS since I announced Luciforms as an upcoming project. I’ve been “planning” it for months, when really it’s been more or less wheels spinning.

But what I’ve been coming to realize in these months of planning is that we all have this secret that we are keeping from one another: Life is incredibly difficult/frightening. We don’t think that other people could possibly understand, which ultimately makes it taboo to talk about because then we’re “dramatic” or “weak” or “taking things too seriously.” It’s about time we start to live honestly with ourselves and those around us.

So this is the jumping off point. This is my invitation for you to take part. Read. Write. React. Photograph. Paint. Draw. Compose. Create. Share. Contribute. This is an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Whatever it is that you need to do to connect. I’m over this being perfect. This is me letting my guard down and having faith in others to join me in an earnest pursuit of answers to the big questions about life, love, happiness, fairness, meaning, motivation, what’s getting you down, and anything else that raises more questions than answers. And I know that all sounds awfully weighty.

I hope to curate content that not only attempts to provide answers to these questions, but perhaps some of the projects that will arise from this will at least bring one to attentiveness, which is a small victory for “meaning” in and of itself.

I’m not doing this for any other reason than to connect people who think alike to let them know that they are not alone.

Once the online content reaches a critical mass, I’ll piece it together and share it with the hope that others can connect and seek understanding from an imperfect world in an imperfect magazine. Because we are not alone in this. And we never are.