To me, anything mysterious and unknown can sometimes be much more intriguing and interesting than that of populous knowledge. I'm a firm believer that the popularity of something doesn't equal success, and that sometimes over-sharing on social media isn't exactly the best option. Kate Moss was very clever indeed for following her personal mantra of 'never explain, never complain'.
In this issue's Russh Magazine, editor Jess Blanch's letter particularly grabbed my attention, and got me thinking about why a degree of mystery is so important.
Take a read:
“Miss, you have an interesting face. I would like
to do your portrait. I have a feeling we will do great things together. I am
Picasso.”
It’s got to be
the greatest come-on of all time. The artist spoke these words in Paris in the
1920s as he stumbled across a 17-year-old blonde while she was shopping. It
wasn’t just the start of a romance, she would become his model and muse over a
lifetime and a painting from their 1932 series – one of his most valuable ever.
Widely around the world, though, this voluptuous woman has only ever been known
as Picasso’s ‘Nude’.
The appeal of
the undefined is something of great intrigue at this moment, as we live in
hyper-communicative times so preoccupied with sharing and where labels and
hashtags have become all-important to our sense of belonging and feeling of
relevance.
Beneath this
constant exposure a debate is gaining momentum about living in the public versus
our right to, and need for, privacy. As we look through Instagrams of girls in
tight jeans pulling peace signs, we can’t help but wonder if we’re a generation
empty and lacking imagination. Amid saturation of social stalking and internet
voyeurism, we question if this full disclosure is indeed propelling our loss of
power. Couldn’t anonymity actually be willfully provocative if we let it? And
shouldn’t we be thinking more about what to conceal than reveal?
For this – our
Untitled issue – the word of the day was mystery. We were inspired by the
unnamed and unexplained; that which empowers our imagination and forces us to
find our own stories and intention. True mystery of course, is not about hiding
away entirely. It’s about knowing what to keep hidden, and what to share. The
master of shadow play, artist Bill Henson – as you will see in these pages –
knows this. “You need a certain amount of stillness and silence for
contemplation, for a gentler and deeper kind of thinking about things,” he told
us. “That’s not a loss of strength but a deeper sense of being in the world.”
There is still
nothing more eternally elusive than one person’s curiosity for another and yet
so often the more we’re told, the less we seem to know.
The best secret
of all is when all we know of someone is that their soul is alive and we are
drawn to them. This is the kind of mystery we should embrace. Or as Picasso
would have done in his day, wander over and say, “So, come here do often you?”