Editor: The most valuable lesson I learned at art school was an unexpected gift in my first year.
In the morning, a professor had assigned us to choose a partner and create a large-scale pencil-drawing portrait of each other. He then left the room saying he would be back at 4 p.m. to critique our drawings.
For six hours we sketched, perfecting every line, shadow and shape, agonizing over them, all the while knowing that they would be on display for all by day’s end.
We were mentally and physically exhausted when our prof returned to wander the classroom, inspecting each drawing, commending us on our creativity and sharing constructive criticism. Then he said there was just one thing left to do: we would be erasing our drawings.
I have never felt the air get sucked out of a room like it did at that moment. Some students clung to their papers, refusing to surrender their precious work. Others reluctantly did as they were told, but with eye-rolling resentment with every stroke of the eraser. My portrait partner Brita and I just looked at each other and laughed. We’d been schooled.
This was a potent lesson in learning to let go of a creative project, and it has remained with me through all of the years since. The lesson has been a touchstone during the process of closing down my boldest creation so far: Highline Magazine.
Eight years ago, tapping into our creative instincts, open hearts, shameless naďveté and a circle of ridiculously talented friends, we launched Highline Magazine, an independent mag that grew to become an essential voice in the Bow Valley and the mountain towns of the Rockies.
Since then, with the help of a wild gang of contributing writers, photographers, illustrators, and partners in the community, we’ve published 17 beautiful print magazines, co-hosted eight crazy Know Your Neighbour Nights, and have attracted a following of hyper-engaged readers by providing free and flavourful bathroom reading for mountain people.
Creating platforms for unconventional storytelling and honest human connection, we’ve often been told that we sparked a sense of belonging and love for this beautifully quirky community, inspiring folks like you to care more deeply for it. And you, sweet reader, supported us in every way.
But now it’s time to let go of our creation. Time to unplug and create some new adventure stories of our own. Time to make like wardens at a rowdy 2 a.m. campsite and shut this bad boy down.
The last few copies of our final print edition are currently on stands and HighlineOnline will remain as an archive on the web.
Thanks for being a member of our mountain tribe and may your bear spray always be pointed downwind.
Bear hugs all around,
Kristy Davison and the Highline Magazine team
PS – We’ll make some noise one last time with a Know Your Neighbour Night in honour of eight years of Highline Mag on April 2 at the Canmore Legion. Seth Anderson will rock a mean set and DJ AllNiteMike will keep us shaking our rumps to the wee hours, as always. We’ll also be announcing the winner of the Highline Indie Music Award at the event. Get your tickets through our website at highline.ca.
