| oh, darling |

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I spent 20 dollars on a magazine. And, I'd do it again, darling.

Darling Magazine is a work of beautiful, beautiful art. The scrapbook junky in me wants to rip every thick-papered page from its bind and frame its poetry, illustrations, wholesome recipes, and words of genius wisdom. It's everything I've looked for in various magazines at local drugstores and morning news stands, but without the ads, the cheap glossy-ness, and in-your-face materialism. 

(all images courtesy of darlingmagazine.org)

In reading this magazine, I'm struggling the same way I do with a novel I love. I want to finish all the pages and experience all the brilliance but I stall to savor and because I don't want it to end (or have to wait until the next issue prints). I read every title, sub-title, outfit description and article. 

The English major in me wants to revisit my senior year creative writing workshop for a show & tell. I'd read to each student the hit-heart story about addiction. And then I would talk about creativity and materialism and how they, contrary to popular belief, aren't related in the least. 

The staff -- the raw talent -- at Darling is magic. Or, at least I believe them to be. The photographs make my heart beat a little bit faster, the handwriting makes me want to toss my digital forms of note taking and sign up for a calligraphy class, the stories are proof that the human heart is so powerful and that life has so much soul. Dear world, we need more of this. 

A few nights ago I started reading out loud to my boyfriend on the couch. World Cup, be damned! (Jokes). It feels so good to hold literature, to feel what literature feels like. This feeling is one that is directly opposed to today's digital screens that dry my eyes and encourage multitasking.

So here's my message to you. Go buy yourself a copy of Darling Magazine. You can do so here. While you do that, I'll be visiting San Francisco's local bookstores telling them, too, to stock up. Or else. 

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