The birth of Slow Content

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Slow.

The opposite of fast…

Slow food, slow fashion, slow living even. The trends have gone reverse for a while now, celebrating everything that is made with care and quality. Everything that takes some of the pressure of our fast-paced world out and allows for a more meaningful way, focused on quality. Oriented in tradition.

But while we already accepted that the bread that someone makes at home over the course of days, with the best ingredients they could find is worth so much more than the cheap, white fluff we used to see in every American kitchen for the longest time, we still consume our content in this way. In a shallow, pretty meaningless way. We fly over headlines and headlines of lies and bullshit, scroll down rows and rows of selfies and pretend perfect lives or ads that tell a story that has not one grain of truth to it, but is replaceable and hollow all the way through.

We believe that everyone can do this. We need it faster, we need it cheaper, we need it now, what am I saying, yesterday. Because tomorrow, we want to see something else. We don’t stop, we don’t think, or question things, we just flip to the next and the next and the one after.

I am exhausted from this. I am fed up and overwhelmed, and bored at the same time. Not wanting to engage, not wanting to read or see anything at all. Even though I love reading and seeing everything, usually.

I revolt against it by ignoring it.

I complain.

I walk away.

But why?

Instead, can’t we be better?

Can’t we start caring again?

Crafting?

Curating?

I want to read this one article in the paper, that my friend highlighted for me, rather than skip through 10 different news flashes. I want to look at this one picture, 3 times maybe, and discover something new each time and feel things.

Yes, I want to follow this feeling.

I want to evoke it in others.

Allow them to see again, too.

I want to craft and shape and redo, until it feels just right and not rush through it.

I want it to mean something.

I want people to care about it, just like I care.

I want to love every second of it. The making as much as the end result.

I want it to raise more questions, because I made it with so many questions in mind. Not wanting to just do things as they were done before, as everyone else does them, for no reason.

I want to make people feel again after years of numbing, myself and others.

I want to feel it all, and keep going where it hurts and deeper.

Making the world not only a little better, but more beautiful along the way.

Making things, because they matter to me, and others, hopefully.

Allowing myself and others to slow down, finally.

To connect. To something within themselves. Or a bigger meaning. To each other maybe.

Or just to that feeling, that might have stirred in them too, but had been ignored for the longest time. Being too busy to notice, being too scared to let it surface. Because it might rise up so loudly that it can’t be ignored anymore. It might take over and change everything, so that from that moment on, we can’t go on like this anymore.

We have to look.

We have to care.

And we have to slow down.