I hold onto magazines, many that go unread aside from having their images glanced at or scrutinized or admired. Most of the articles do not interest me - that isn't the purpose. I buy magazines with the fervour of an addict. I love the weight of them. I love the gloss, their strange, almost liquid movements. And I do love them for their content. The distinction is that I don't actively consume their content. I realize now that I buy magazines to fulfill my inner archivist's obsessive goal: these magazines are mirrors of our time and, I suspect, will reflect us in ways that novels, music, and film may not be able to. The fashion editorials, the pop culture ruminations, the crossing of borders by film stars into a land of fashion photographers and contorted poses, these are both my interests and non-interests. I am not so interested in the script but in the object. I am trying to preserve, on a small scale, one issue here and one issue there, the physical passing of time as seen through periodicals. I am focussed on archiving these issues, so that we will remember the smaller parts of life: the recipes we tried, the clothing we could not afford, the films we saw, the design that inspired us, things that pushed us or repelled us.