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Connor Lambert: Behind a Bent Lens of Reality
How dropping out of high school led to his curated ability to “mess with reality a bit”, and how this is seen in his black and white film, dripping with desire for adventure and human connection.
Issue 1 Excerpt: Reclaiming My Sexuality
I tell flame-haired girls and golden bright boys that I love them, I’m rejected, and I heal.
my way is in the sand flowing (an analogue summer diary)
to its beginning to its end.
Issue One: What Freedom.
The mag is messy and unscripted. It feels like flickering red fluorescent lamps, skin creases and pimples, scabbed knees, wet hair, underwear, crooked teeth, glasses, odd angles and hysterical laughter.
At 18 my grandma was driving 5 minutes North to Michigan to get drunk (a poem)
I was born in an action age / At 18, I cannot imagine acting that way.
Muriel Margaret on Falling the Fuck in Love with What You're Doing
“I have eight tattoos and one of those includes the words, “buy the ticket, take the ride” - that right there basically describes my whole life.”
Dear Samaia
Sixteen, you were in your Kurt Cobain phase.
A First Guide to Tarot
The power is not so much in the cards, but in the magic of your own mind.
an open letter to my younger self
The world is yours, take care.
GRL SWIRL: Skate Feminine
8 girls from the Venice-based skate group talk femininity, bruises, intersectionality, and the female skater revolution.
a letter (confession) to my mama, on the road to san francisco
I wish I could give you all of my naiveness so that you could allow yourself to fall in love with the world once again.
A Step Outside High School
Late nights, run-ins with toxic people and impulsive actions, chuck in a few bad relationships with boys I should not have let enter my life or body. I saw myself spiral, though it looked like “growing up.”
Identity Like Honey
The city that birthed me does not feel like my mother, but rather a close aunt.
How’s It Sound?
Not just any yellow, the yellow that drapes a worn chair in the corner of your room, reminding you of expired sunshine in the earliest hours of the day.
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday
I always find myself reaching for little faded memories of whispered verses during a half asleep car-ride, or the way they’d move their thumb in circles around the palm of your hand when preoccupied.
You & I
Our giggles had been replaced with frowns and absolutely nothing was glittering. You were speaking in a dead language that I was no longer fluent in.
No Re-Entry
Journals from the moshpit.
The Burbs ~ P.E
By the end of it, the band’s on the floor, the tambourine’s broken, and everyone’s pretty f*cking confused. A FILM DIARY.
“Hello to Old Stories”: Rachel Tse’s Hong Kong
The way fog can coat a landscape, as if enveloping everything within reach, and how a silhouette can bring back the sounds and scents of childhood.
Teen Art Gallery: NYC
“A lot of time, teens are told ‘oh you can do this when you’re older’ or they’re asked ‘what do you want to be when you’re older’. The purpose of TAG is to say – you don’t need to wait to be an artist.”