A few months ago, I redeemed an about-to-expire airline reward for a few magazine subscriptions.
Let me rephrase that . . . more than a few magazine subscriptions.
I’ve lost count of the total, but in the last two weeks, these have arrived in the mail: Lucky, Glamour, Marie Claire, Town and Country, Diabetes Forecast (I think I wrote the wrong code on that one), Ebony, All You, Sports Illustrated Kids, Time, Details, Redbook, Men’s Vogue, Travel and Leisure, and probably a few more I’ve forgotten. To top them off, my next door neighbor shares her gently used copies of Prevention, Oprah, The New Yorker, and Martha Stewart Living.
If this seems obsessive, relax. I’ve given up on trying to read them. Now, I only look at the pictures. Once upon a time, I was a magazine addict, but no more. I’m cured. Instead, I browse the glossies for inspiration, and then, cut and paste my finds into a collage. I have one for each character in my work.
In an age where every imaginable image can be found online, I find inspiration when I hold the hard copy in my hand.
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