Profane #12


Amateur obsessions and French eccentricity combine in Profane magazine. Its pages are filled with artists, collectors, creators and appreciators.

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For six years now, we have been striving to reveal the discreetly committed facet in each and every one, to express the stubborn dreams of people’s lives, to showcase what the world weaves beyond visible and orchestrated areas. The situation we have all been experiencing since our tenth issue in May 2020, and which seems never-ending, has placed reality in a glass case, rather like one numbs desire. The injunction to distance ourselves from the world, from a social, cultural, and collective time that has been annihilated, from a domestic and private space that is supposed to be safe, has certainly benefited sales of puzzles, clay, paint, sewing supplies, cookbooks, board games, vegetable seeds, etc. Personal epiphanies occurred. We can delight in this, but is this how we imagined things? Is it possible to flourish when the surprise and novelty of the surrounding world are kept at bay, when dereliction and withdrawal prevail? It is too early to say. So we have chosen to carry on like before, with subjects that rarely touch on today’s reality—except for a peony expedition under Trump and a book of family memories. We have also decided, against all odds, to maintain our publications during this strange year and to overhaul our website, given that our distribution and presentation channels have been reduced to a trickle. And for our next rendez-vous, let’s relish the skin, add the night, the unexpected, interactions, others, and let’s keep sorrows at bay with this new issue that we are happy to brandish!

Weight0.6 kg




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