Mœllus
VelEx CreationsA slow walk through Zagreb.
City sounds. No rush.
#Zagreb #CityWalk #UrbanAmbience #StreetFilm #SlowMedia #DocumentaryStyle #AmbientVideo #UrbanMood
The Internet is CrackAn Intentional Interruption.
#DigitalWellbeing #AttentionEconomy #OnlineCulture #SlowMedia
meta_blum@frauvogel Ja, krass wie aktuell das Slow Media Manifest nach 15 Jahren noch ist, oder?
Und ich bin gestern tatsächlich als Manifest-Autorin zu einer Konferenz eingeladen worden, in der es im Rahmen eines Forschungsprojekts um "Slow Media" geht.
#SlowMedia is the next big thing 😌☺️
Und ich bin gestern tatsächlich als Manifest-Autorin zu einer Konferenz eingeladen worden, in der es im Rahmen eines Forschungsprojekts um "Slow Media" geht.
#SlowMedia is the next big thing 😌☺️
Ute VogelWeil ich gerade WDR Forum "25 Jahre Wikipedia - Wie geht es weiter in Zeiten von KI?" gehört habe, wo u. a. auch @meta_blum eingeladen war, kam mir wieder das Slow Media Manifest unter. Das ist ja in Internetjahren schon steinalt - und immer noch gut.
https://www.slow-media.net/manifest
(der WDR Podcast: https://www1.wdr.de/radio/wdr3/programm/sendungen/wdr3-forum/wikipedia-fuenfundzwanzig-jahre-100.html )
#SlowMedia #SlowMediaManifest
TiffMy latest Substack article is out - here I talk about the rise in slow media in Gen Z, and how that's (slowly) changing social media trends. And as someone who prefers slower types of content, I find this trend very interesting and am anticipating more changes in the future!
https://open.substack.com/pub/musingsofanartist/p/the-rise-in-slow-media?r=2dad5u&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true
💌 Subscribe to get it directly in your inbox!
#writing #substack #newsletter #substackcommunity #writer @writingcommunity #substackwriter #substackarticle #digitalmarketing #socialmedia #slowmedia
Nicole MyersWhy slow media is the new growth strategy: It’s not about racing for clicks—it’s about building roots, real community, and creative joy. 🌱✨ What’s your favorite “slow” habit for growth? #SlowMedia #DreamspaceStudio #MindfulPublishing
Why Slow Media Is the New Growth Strategy - Dreamspace Studio
In 2025, the focus shifts from rapid content production to a slow media growth strategy that emphasizes intentionality and substance. The Dreamspace prioritizes meaningful connections over fleeting trends, nurturing a loyal audience that appreciates depth. This approach fosters sustainable growth, inviting readers to engage authentically rather than rushing for quick…
The Dreamspace Forum is live! Forums are back—slower, deeper, and built for genuine connection. Come share your voice, join discussions, or just listen in. Everyone’s welcome. #forum #community #slowmedia #DreamspaceStudio
Welcome to the Dreamspace Community Forum: Why We’re Bringing Forums Back (and How to Join Us) - Dreamspace Studio
Dreamspace is launching a new Community Forum aimed at fostering genuine connections among readers, writers, and creatives. Unlike fast-paced social media, this "slow media" environment encourages thoughtful conversations, sharing of resources, and support. The platform promotes inclusivity and respect while hosting discussions, events, and creative challenges. Join to help shape…
Do you ever miss the thrill of waiting for a new album to arrive? I wrote about the joy of slow media, vinyl, anticipation, and why sometimes being old-fashioned is rebellion. Come share your own slow rituals! #SlowMedia #Vinyl #AnalogLife #Dreamspace
The Joys of Slow Media: On Vinyl, Anticipation, and Living at the Right Pace - Dreamspace Studio
The Joys of Slow Media: On Vinyl, Anticipation, and Living at the Right Pace There’s a certain kind of magic that digital life—convenient as it is—just can’t quite touch. I’m talking about the anticipation of new music, not just streamed and forgotten, but owned and experienced in the tangible world. I mean the slow media, the analog moments: vinyl records, cassettes, physical books, handwritten letters, Polaroids you can shake and tape to your wall. It’s a little old-fashioned. So am I. I grew up in an era when getting new music was an event. You didn’t just click “pre-save” and wait for midnight to roll around; you went to the record shop, sometimes even pre-ordered in person, and counted the days. The anticipation was half the magic—waiting for that new album to drop, feeling the nerves as you sliced open the packaging, carefully setting the needle onto that first groove and listening to the gentle crackle before the music began. Vinyl is tactile. It demands your presence. It asks you to listen, not just hear. Even now, with streaming and endless playlists at my fingertips, there’s a ritual to receiving a new record in the mail. The world pauses for a moment as I tear open the box. There’s a whiff of cardboard and ink, the weight of the record in my hands, the thrill of holding art you can feel. I read the liner notes. I look at the cover. I listen, truly listen, to every track—sometimes with the lyrics sheet in hand, sometimes just staring at the ceiling and letting the sound fill the room. Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe it’s something more. In a world that keeps speeding up, where instant gratification is the default and scrolling is the national pastime, slow media feels like rebellion. It’s a way of saying: I am here, I am alive, and I want more than digital noise. I want music that comes with memories. Books with dog-eared corners. Art that’s touched by human hands. And yet—let’s be honest. I love my digital life too. The fact that I can listen to a new album at midnight, anywhere, is a kind of magic. That I can write a blog post and have people read it from across the world? Wild. I don’t want to give that up. But it doesn’t have to be either/or. Maybe the best life is a hybrid: some days fast, some days slow. Some days spent in the soft light of the screen, others savoring the weight of a record, the scratch of a pen, the turning of a page. So here’s my invitation to you: take it slow sometimes. Savor the anticipation. Let yourself be old-fashioned, if only for a moment. Maybe order that vinyl you’ve been eyeing, or handwrite a letter to a friend, or reread a favorite book. Make a ritual out of something small and analog. Let the world spin on while you move at your own pace. There’s joy to be found in the waiting, in the holding, in the being present. What about you? What are your favorite slow media rituals? Do you collect records, or write letters, or have a beloved analog habit? Drop your stories in the comments—I’d love to hear about the ways you make life a little slower, a little richer, a little more real.
Nicole MyersThe Joys of Slow Media: On Vinyl, Anticipation, and Living at the Right Pace
The Joys of Slow Media: On Vinyl, Anticipation, and Living at the Right Pace There’s a certain kind of magic that digital life—convenient as it is—just can’t quite touch. I’m talking about the anticipation of new music, not just streamed and forgotten, but owned and experienced in the tangible world. I mean the slow media, the analog moments: vinyl records, cassettes, physical books, handwritten letters, Polaroids you can shake and tape to your wall. It’s a little old-fashioned. So am I. I grew up in an era when getting new music was an event. You didn’t just click “pre-save” and wait for midnight to roll around; you went to the record shop, sometimes even pre-ordered in person, and counted the days. The anticipation was half the magic—waiting for that new album to drop, feeling the nerves as you sliced open the packaging, carefully setting the needle onto that first groove and listening to the gentle crackle before the music began. Vinyl is tactile. It demands your presence. It asks you to listen, not just hear. Even now, with streaming and endless playlists at my fingertips, there’s a ritual to receiving a new record in the mail. The world pauses for a moment as I tear open the box. There’s a whiff of cardboard and ink, the weight of the record in my hands, the thrill of holding art you can feel. I read the liner notes. I look at the cover. I listen, truly listen, to every track—sometimes with the lyrics sheet in hand, sometimes just staring at the ceiling and letting the sound fill the room. Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe it’s something more. In a world that keeps speeding up, where instant gratification is the default and scrolling is the national pastime, slow media feels like rebellion. It’s a way of saying: I am here, I am alive, and I want more than digital noise. I want music that comes with memories. Books with dog-eared corners. Art that’s touched by human hands. And yet—let’s be honest. I love my digital life too. The fact that I can listen to a new album at midnight, anywhere, is a kind of magic. That I can write a blog post and have people read it from across the world? Wild. I don’t want to give that up. But it doesn’t have to be either/or. Maybe the best life is a hybrid: some days fast, some days slow. Some days spent in the soft light of the screen, others savoring the weight of a record, the scratch of a pen, the turning of a page. So here’s my invitation to you: take it slow sometimes. Savor the anticipation. Let yourself be old-fashioned, if only for a moment. Maybe order that vinyl you’ve been eyeing, or handwrite a letter to a friend, or reread a favorite book. Make a ritual out of something small and analog. Let the world spin on while you move at your own pace. There’s joy to be found in the waiting, in the holding, in the being present. What about you? What are your favorite slow media rituals? Do you collect records, or write letters, or have a beloved analog habit? Drop your stories in the comments—I’d love to hear about the ways you make life a little slower, a little richer, a little more real.