Category: Love


My Heart is Like an Artichoke…I Eat Petals Myself One By One.

Filed under: Art & Literature, Being Mom, Food!, Love, Musicness, Time Management, zines — Leave a comment
November 18, 2013

I spent much of the morning today thinking about artichokes. Working on my forthcoming zine, Oyster Lexicon.

In case I haven’t already described it (my understanding of this project has evolved over time, so I might have written about it before in a less specific way) Oyster Lexicon will be an alphabet of me (aka Lainie the Oyster) and A is for Artichoke. I have an artichoke drawing, a recipe, and artichoke mix…originally I thought I would just do 6 letters of the alphabet per issue, but it’s starting to seem like I might be doing 1-3 letters per issue, what with all of the artichoke media I’m going to gather. The zine will also be fully or partially full-color. I’m still debating about the size format. It will be hand-lettered (no computers will be used in the creation of the pages, but I will be scanning the hand-drawn/hand-lettered pages to do the layout and MIGHT do some computer editing after that.)

I’m super excited about doing a zine again. I had started to do one years ago after a trip to Chicago, but never really sustained an interest in it (though I do still have some great pieces that I was going to include in that zine that I might use for my “C is for Chicago” pages of Oyster Lexicon.) My plan is to put out the zine, as well as postcards and maybe notecards with the illustrations I’m making for each letter. I’d love to encourage people to send out actual mail, so I feel like making things that other people can use to brighten up the mailboxes of friends and relationships will accomplish another goal.

It’s been a long time since I last put out a zine, so I’m not entirely sure how I will do distribution. Ideally, I will be able to get some advanced orders to help fund the printing and mailing of the initial print run, which will hopefully continue to (mostly) fund any additional print runs. It’s not like I work at Kinko’s and can get free copies anymore. Speaking of which – do I still know people who work at Kinko’s and can get me a deal on copies? 😉

Etsy? WePay? Amazon books? iBooks? How are people promoting/distributing zines these days? If anyone reading this can give me any advice/suggestions, I’d really appreciate it.

In other news –

My new rhythm of days is working really well for me. I feel like I’ve achieved a pretty decent balance of internal/external time, and I’m making time for art and education as well as day-to-day practical things. I’m a little less worried about completing everything on my list, and am working on finding chunks of my week where I can just forget about time completely and focus on a task until *I* feel done with it, rather than when a clock tells me it’s time to be done with it. I still need to work on eliminating distractions and focusing on the task at hand (as evidenced by the fact that I got caught up in several facebook discussions during the writing of this blog post.) but I do feel like I’m spending the time I have doing things that are important to me, or essential to my family and community.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about dating, and how people without children maybe don’t really grasp the challenges in the lives of single parents – particularly custodial parents. Primarily, it’s odd to me how even very kind and understanding people can misunderstand how much of a financial and logistical burden it is to be the custodial parent of children – even when those children are older and not in need of constant supervision. As a woman and a feminist, for instance, I’m not really keen on a guy always picking up the tab for me. As a single mother who is struggling financially, however, you are damn straight I can’t even afford dating unless the other person pays. I’m totally cool with non-extravagant dating. I’m especially cool with cooking in or creating our own DIY entertainment…but it’s really difficult for me to help people understand that my inability to pay for a date is not a “reverse sexist” thing, but a “financial necessity” thing…and if I was the person in the relationship in a better financial situation, I would definitely be the person who offered to pay, or I would adjust my expectations of what a date might entail to ensure affordability. It’s a tricky subject, and it makes me want to avoid dating rather than having to attempt to unpack it with someone. hahaha.

Also, my children are not baggage. It might be challenging to date a woman with children, but it is hopefully a net positive. Oddly enough, I feel like my children become more of a challenge to my dating relationships as they get older. When they were younger, they tended to be more agreeable and open-minded about accepting people into our lives. Now they are more set in their ways and can be resistant to inviting new people in, even temporarily. I’m sure it’s difficult for a man to come into my home and be shunned by my adolescent boys, but that is the way adolescents sometimes are. It might be more exaggerated in my household because I am not a strict authoritarian, and my boys have always been very free to express themselves (for better or for worse) – but it’s the way it is. It’s really up to the adults in the relationship to navigate these issues…and I seem to find men who want instant acceptance from people who just aren’t designed to be uncritical of new people in their lives. It takes time. It takes time. It takes time. And the last thing I need is to be this person who is trying to solely balance the needs of the children with the needs of a potential new partner. Guess whose needs are going to come first every time, guys? You got it – the non-adults! The ones who I am obligated to care for until they are able to care for themselves. Which, by the way,  might not be the very day they turn 18. It could possibly take longer than that. Because all kids mature differently.

I suppose dating as a single parent of adolescent boys is a good filter for me, though. It’s a lot more difficult to get involved in relationships and situations that are overly-complicated and require more of me than I should be expected to reasonably give. I’m just not capable of accommodating another person’s needs above mine or my children’s right now. It’s challenging for me, because my tendency is to accommodate. My tendency is to invite chaos. My tendency is to try new and different things, experiment, and see where they end up. And while I might be giving up on some things that might, after some work, end up being beneficial…I just can’t spare the time and energy to get there at this point in my life. I require a partner who is able to give more than take right now. I require a partner who accommodates me, more than requiring me to accommodate him. That FEELS selfish to me, but it’s reality. It’s where I am. And, really? I’m fucking worth it! hahahaha.

 

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She’s Not There.

Filed under: Food!, Love, Nerdgasm — Leave a comment
November 14, 2013

It’s 11 PM, and I’m waiting for an artichoke to cook. Finally getting around to eating dinner. Today has continued the theme of wishing I could remain bedridden while still accomplishing all of my goals and tasks. I did manage to stay in my cozy bed for much of the day, but some things required out-of-bedness. For instance, chalk pastels in bed? Not such a great idea.

Mainly I lazed about in my nightgown today. Brooded a little. Thought a lot. Drew and wrote some. Listened to music. Chatted with an old friend and kept track of world events. It was definitely a well-executed mental health day.

I thought a lot about understanding vs. accommodating. And the fact that I can very much understand someone else’s choices. I might even endorse those choices. I might possibly even fight for that person’s right to make those choices. However, understanding fully why someone has made the choices they have made does not necessarily obligate me to make the same choices, or to invite the potential consequences of those choices into my daily life. That’s been a difficult lesson for me to learn, but it’s a good one. I’m glad to have learned that this week. I’m glad to have come to terms with it. Understanding is not agreement. And just because I don’t desire something does not mean I don’t understand it.

Anyway, my artichoke is almost done. Nom nom. Eats!

 

 

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Mopping up the butcher’s floor of your broken little heart

Filed under: Art & Literature, Love, Politics — Leave a comment
November 13, 2013

 

So, this week I tried something new. Instead of considering the feelings of every single person in a situation except for myself, I chose to actually consider my feelings first. I realized I didn’t have to be angry at someone to reject what they were offering, I just had to think about what I really wanted, and whether what was being offered was in alignment with what I really wanted. And though the short-term effect of that decision is painful…from past experience I am almost 100% certain that the pain I’m feeling now is nowhere near the pain I would feel if I were to have accepted that offer. Sometimes really wonderful people won’t have what I need. And just because it still hurts doesn’t mean it’s not progress.

Yay! (she feebly celebrates…) hahaha.

In other news – it’s nearly mid-month and I have not done much for the zine. I need to kick it into high gear these last two weeks! Oddly enough, it’s the writing that’s giving me trouble. I don’t know what my deal is with the writer’s block, but I wish it would just stop. I have plenty to write about. It’s not that I don’t have ideas. It’s that I allow myself to become distracted. Writing needs to become ritualized. It needs to become something I do at a specific time every day or at specific times throughout the week WITHOUT FAIL. Once I’ve established the habit again, I can be more lax about when it happens. I need to remind myself that writing matters. Perhaps overcoming minor heartbreak will be a good impetus. I definitely did a lot of journal processing these past couple of days.

Also, just when I thought I was going to completely run out of money, I discovered double-time-and-a-half holiday pay at my job. I’m working pretty much every holiday through the end of the year, so…hopefully that will help me take care of some of these things I’m behind on and/or have been waiting for money to take care of. Things like new bras, fixing my kid’s computer, A FREAKING HAIRCUT FOR ME, and I was thinking I could really use a new dress. Something swing-y and retro and comfy. Oh, and…you know, catching up on my stupid utilities and fixing my damn a/c on my car. You know – stuff that piles up when one is living paycheck to paycheck. And funding the zine, though I’m hoping I can just take advance orders to fund it.

Oh, randomness. I’m loving the cold, though I spent much of the day today stubbornly refusing to turn on the heat – blowing on my hands between calls and shoving them in the pockets of my sweatpants while on the phone. It occurs to me that I should drag my footie pajamas from the storage bin under my bed. How very awesome that I can wear footie pajamas while working. What a frikking coup that is!

And…just when I”m feeling like hibernating in my little Hidey Hole and not socializing – here comes a busy weekend filled with plans. Most of which I really can’t cancel. I’m going to need to look hard at my schedule and plan another “lay in bed and read comic books all day” day sometime soon to make up for it. But some truly exciting stuff is happening. For one thing, I feel like I need to contribute to all of the great work that’s being done to help folks who were flooded out of their homes on Halloween. I’m really proud of all the hard work everyone is doing working with those communities. For another, I’m truly excited that some of the folks from Strike Debt will be here in Austin this week to hold a Debtor’s Assembly and Debtor’s Carnival. I can’t make the assembly because I have to work, but I’m super stoked about seeing people at the Carnival – though I wish it could happen in my bedroom with me in my jammies and the covers pulled up under my chin. hahaha. Wouldn’t it be awesome if I had the power to just travel everywhere in my comfy bed – all tucked in? I feel like there needs to be a movie about that if there hasn’t already been one. Or, wait…was that a Kids In The Hall sketch?

No matter – I’m just dreaming. Dreaming about sleeping and dreaming and floating through life in my comfy bed in my jammy jams. ❤

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A Visionary Fish in a Pool of Sharks

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October 3, 2013

“From the story of Ajaolele’s trip to a distant market I turned to these ideas about evolution and about art to expand on the notion that Eshu is a god of uncertainty and accident, and that these functions are necessarily connected to his ability to change someone’s lot in life. These are all one and the same thing: leaving the village, the accident in the market, and the change of fortune. Ajaolele’s altered situation, his conversion into “a person with followers,” would never have come to him in the context of his own village, for the village is rule-governed and no man gets “brides without bridesweatlh” there. For a fundamental shift of that sort Ajaolele needs a happy accident, and for that it helps if he puts himself “on the road” and “in the market,” phrases I put in quotation marks because we should remember not to confine ourselves to their literal reading. At stake here is an attitude toward life, and you do not really need to leave town to have it. Duchamp makes that clear. You can be on the road at home and in the mind, attentive to the plenitude of coincidence that habit and design sometimes obscure. There is an old saying: “Luck is the residue of design.” Being “aware of Eshu” means entering a frame of mind in which the eye notices that residue all around it, the plentiful and ready-made world right at hand.” -Lewis Hyde, from Trickster Makes This World

It is a(n) (anti) habit of mine to make random choices as often as possible. I’ve developed this process over the years as my life has become busier and busier and the amount of conscious decisions I have to make on a daily basis has become more and more overwhelming. To the point where choosing a movie or choosing a book or choosing a topic to write about can paralyze me. There are so many wonderful things in the world to observe and ingest and participate in…sometimes it feels like the only option is to choose at random to ensure there is no confirmation bias preventing me from experiencing something new.

I realize it sounds a little crazy, but I actually have a process for choosing things at random. Several processes, actually*. For books, for instance, I use Goodreads as my gigantic reading list. I use it as a holding place for every single book that I see or hear referenced or recommended, and when it comes time to buy or borrow a book, I choose randomly from my gigantic list (generally using some sort of random number generator). I also usually choose multiple books – typically a mixture of fiction and non-fiction – which adds an element of mixed context to the randomness. The books I am reading together influence my experience of them individually.

For instance, a month or so ago, I happened to be reading The Ecology of Commerce, which had been loaned to me by a friend, along with some essays by Wendell Berry and Plutocrats. These were all chosen at random individually, and reading them together provided me with an in-depth study of cause/effect. Not to mention I’m pretty sure Wendell Berry was mentioned in both Ecology of Commerce AND Plutocrats, which made things even more interesting.

This is the kind of synchronicity that I get from allowing randomness in my life. It very much does open me up to more “happy accidents” and residual fate. The weaving of disparate ideas together to form a cloth of eclectic patterns and color combinations is a great source of inspiration for me. I’d never really thought about the benefits of this tendency I’ve had for some time now – thinking only that it enabled me to avoid having to make so many damn conscious decisions and never considering how opening myself up to the arbitrary might spur creativity and expansion.

Poem of the day is by Rilke, who I admit I am not really connecting with…but this poem seems applicable to this topic:

What Birds Plunge Through Is Not The Intimate Space

What birds plunge through is not the intimate space,
in which you see all Forms intensified.
(In the Open, denied, you would lose yourself,
would disappear into that vastness.)

Space reaches from us and translates Things:
to become the very essence of a tree,
throw inner space around it, from that space
that lives in you. Encircle it with restraint.
It has no limits. For the first time, shaped
in your renouncing, it becomes fully tree.

Submitted and Translated by Gabriel Caffrey

Rainer Maria Rilke
*Buddha the Grouch, my eldest son, makes fun of me for my obsession with random selection. He tells me “You spend so much time fighting for freedom and choice, and then you give up your choices to a random number generator!” I just nod and smile.
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You Don’t Meet Nice Girls In Coffee Shops.

Filed under: Art & Literature, Being Mom, Food!, Love, Musicness, Nerdgasm — Leave a comment
September 30, 2013

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I’ve decided I’m going to attempt to write a poem a day in October. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to accomplish it, and I’m double not sure if I’ll want to share what I’ve written…but I am committing myself to trying, and as inspiration I’m going to read poetry every day, so at the very least I will link to a poem I have read. And I know it’s not October yet, but…

The Poetic Process

Drove home stoned on Cohen

and Waits had to write

a poem like a full bladder, brainsharp

pencil, ran

Into the house with a

simultaneous empty that felt like

Hunger, got distracted

by all of the Chores

that never get done

Poured

some water in a pot to boil

Divorced

myself from the conversation

To my room, tried to turn on

Music, music

won’t turn on, got

Distracted by Facebook

as I scrambled for

my journal, which

I found in a crevice

between my bed &

the wall, too small

to fit my hand in to

Got a stiff

bookmark, managed

to knock it over,

then flat

on the floor

once again beyond grasp

As I dropped my favorite

pen in trying

to retrieve it

Rolled far

Underbed, the metal pieces of which

Came apart, thankfully temporarily, as I

wrenched it

away from wall enough

for my fingers to grasp

Several other

Lost Items

Unknowingly Sacrificed

to bed monster

Until finally,

gingerly,

with very fingertips pinching

journal cover

Extracted from

hungry maw

but not before

accidentally pushing it

further underbed, causing

me to burst out

in glee of the fact that

At least now

I had something

completely absurd to

birth upon it’s recovered

pages

And that’s

when the water boiled

over.

❤

Lainie

9/13/2013

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Strive to survive, causing the least suffering possible

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September 24, 2013

It’s all done! ❤

Tattoo accomplished! I feel complete, and at the same time…I suddenly have the desire to get a bunch more tattoos. I just saw a picture of a really cool crow tattoo and I was like “Oooooh…I could have a crow on my right arm.” It’s like that. I’ve heard many people say tattoos are like potato chips…you can’t stop at just one.

But for now I’ll enjoy my artichoke, and be glad that I finally got it done. And, as it turns out, I waited just long enough for it to be perfect timing. Everything that is happening in my life right now enhances that tattoo, gives it more meaning, provides a particular context, and makes it even more special than I thought it would be when I first had the idea to tattoo a flaming heartichoke on my arm many years ago.

That’s just how things go. We always think we know the best timing for certain things, and frequently discover that the universe (or whatever you want to call the infinite stage upon which our lives unfold) has other ideas – often better ideas – about how and when things will unfold. It’s why I’ve never put much stake in making plans and having goals. Instead, I try to pay attention to natural rhythms in my life and focus on a center based on how I feel about life. I mean, to be sure, I make plans and have goals, but I try. I try. I really try to remain open to all of those variables that tend to rearrange those plans and throw a monkeywrench into those goals.

“There is no way to suppress change […] there is only the choice between a way of living that allows constant, if gradual, alterations and a way of living that combines great control and cataclysmic upheavals. Those who panic and bind the trickster choose the latter path. It would be better to learn to play with him, better especially to develop styles (cultural, spiritual, artistic) that allow some commerce with accident, and some acceptance of the changes contingency will always engender. -Lewis Hyde (from Trickster Makes the World: How Disruptive Imagination Creates Culture.)

I have many things in my life that I am thankful for. One of which is an early exposure to Taoism, which has always allowed me to convince my frequently fraught mind that, really, none of this matters. And if I just sit still and wait patiently, a lot of times things just work themselves out. And when they don’t, I have more energy to devote to working them out because I did sit patiently the last time. And when they REALLY don’t, fuck it. In the end, it never mattered anyway.

Bird, age 12, mentioned today that he suddenly didn’t have any idea what life was all about. He said it as though he had known 5 minutes before and lost it. It was one of those moments where I thought maybe I was being called upon to Be Wise. I did my best. I looked to punk rock for the meaning of life, as I frequently do, and told him “Strive to survive, causing the least suffering possible.” I also reminded him that he’s 12, and it’s ok to just enjoy life and maybe not worry about what it means so much right now. But who am I fooling? This is the kid who, at age 2, would walk up to me and ask “Why am I alive inside this body, mom?”

My job as this child’s parent is to learn the lessons he is constantly teaching me, teach them back to him, and try to honor and welcome the trickster when our plans and goals are sidetracked or rerouted.

❤

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You can watch yourself while you are eating

Filed under: Art & Literature, Being Mom, Food!, Love, Musicness, Nerdgasm, Time Management — Leave a comment
September 15, 2013

Mommy-Son time with The Tao of Bird today. We went out to breakfast at his FAVORITE RESTAURANT ON EARTH, Donut Taco Palace.

We ate donuts AND tacos, and enjoyed some tasty beverages.

Juice…or no juice?

I kept trying to get a picture of Bird, but he kept, as he called it, “Sean Penning” me.

I have embarrassingly few photos of my children. Both of them started to hate having their photo taken at a young age, and I gradually just trained myself to take pictures of food and trees and birds and stuff. I can’t say I blame them…I’m not terribly fond of being in photos, either. But I need good material to embarrass them in front of their dates wi…er, I mean, to send to relatives who have no clue what my children look like.

After breakfast, Bird and I went to the library to check out some books. Bird is really enjoying Lord of the Flies. He is just certain that’s the way it would really be if children were stranded on an island. I told him he needs to watch Lost…or Gilligan’s island…for slightly different points of view. He says he likes books that are grim and depressing and unsentimental. I tried to get him to read Native Son by Richard Wright, but he chose some sort of weird space cowboy mystery, instead. I think this is going to be an interesting reading year for him. He’s exploring new things. I chose some awesome books that I won’t be able to finish by the time they are due, and will probably end up buying, after paying my overdue fine at the library. Because that’s how I roll.

In the car on the way home, we listened to this episode of Radiolab.  What’s funny, is I remember listening to that episode of radiolab on a walk by myself one night. I was going to pick up Bird at a neighbor’s house while I was listening to it. I have no idea why I remember that, as the day was completely insignificant, unless you consider that radio show to be significant, which I suppose you can. It’s a pretty good episode.

Back home, I watched Heathers while Buddha the Grouch scoffed. As a 16-year old (actually, pretty much since he turned 5) he seems morally obligated to scoff at anything I like. In fact, he has actually told me that he’s not allowed to like anything I recommend to him. I keep telling him that’s going to bite him in the ass, especially when all of his friends start talking about how awesome, say, Raising Arizona is…and he’s either going to have to admit that it’s a great movie, or he’s going to forever be a closeted Coen Bros. fan. But I wonder if Heathers is really only funny in the context of all of the ’80s John Hughes-formula teen angst movies. I guess I’ll have to ask someone else’s kid. I hadn’t watched the movie since my 20’s, and I laughed out loud at some parts, but OH, THOSE SHOULDERPADS. hahaha. Of all of the eras of fashion, you have to admit…the 80’s were pretty fucking ridiculous.

The rest of the day was spent grocery shopping, driving to the other side of town and back, and avoiding being sucked into an endless “How It’s Made” marathon, because apparently that’s on Netflix now. I’m so toast if they ever start streaming House Hunters. As it is, Buddha the Grouch keeps trying to get me to watch “just this little bit” of How It’s Made, and I keep objecting vociferously.

So, you know, typical weekend of late. I’m glad I’ve taken the time to spend extra time with (or at least being available to) the kiddos lately. I’ve missed out on some important activities that I’d really like to be involved in, but I just don’t feel right not being here right now. Especially with the coming weeks and the work-hour craziness they will be bringing. Insane amounts of overtime – here I come! I’m telling people I’ll probably see them in October. Hopefully, I’ll still have time to write.

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Sometimes I Flap My Arms Like a Hummingbird, Just To Remind Myself I’ll Never Fly.

Filed under: Art & Literature, Love, Musicness, Nerdgasm, Time Management, Work — 2 Comments
September 11, 2013

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This week has been kind of a whirlwind. I had really just begun to establish myself at work and not stress at all about whether or not I could do my job…and they threw us into training for something new. Which is awesome. It’s nice to learn new things…but I was just at that point where it seemed like I might maybe start establishing a good rhythm in my life & my schedule was thrown all out of whack, I’ve had to work extra hours, and now we’re being offered a bunch of overtime that I’d feel silly to not grab up while the grabbing is good. So, there’s that. A mix of bad and good things. Good things and their maybe not-so-great consequences, is what I’ll call it.

On my walk today, I had all sorts of ideas about what I might write about tonight. Apropos of the above, I thought a lot about how I have this love/hate relationship with chaos/order. I like making plans and schedules, but I rebel against them regularly. It’s possible I dislike commitment. It’s possible I am not fond of predictability. It’s possible that patterned behavior annoys me. OR…it could be an exercise. It COULD be that my rebellion against my inner organizer is just practice for when all of my plans go to shit and I work 12 hours of overtime in a week or something.

Maude (from Harold & Maude): Vice, Virtue. It’s best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much *life.* Aim above morality. If you apply that to life, then you’re bound to live life fully.

But mostly, I think I just figured out a long time ago that I will never ever get done all of the shit that needs getting done, and decided I might as well prioritize the fun shit as much as possible.

I also decided, after years and years (gosh, more than 20 years, really) of de-prioritizing my own desires, needs, and rituals out of fear of spending money on them, to get a tattoo I’ve been hoping to get for some time. Fuck the fact that I can’t afford it. I also can’t afford any of the other stuff I’m forced to afford, and I somehow get by. And how many packs of ex-boyfriends’ cigarettes, guitars, and whatever else have I paid for in my lifetime of waiting to get this damn tattoo? I could have gotten a zillion and a half tattoos by now!

Needless to say, I’m already planning the next tattoo.

❤

 

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Big birds flying across the sky, throwing shadows in our eyes…

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August 29, 2013

A somewhat maybe not-so-random mix for you tonight…

Things are good. Things are getting better. I’m practicing being patient. Always. I’m always practicing being patient.

But I have to give myself some credit this week. I feel like I did a pretty damn good job. I was supportive, honest, and firm. I listened, I validated, and I explained. I gave leeway when necessary, which can be so difficult…that line between nudging and coercing…that line between allowing for expression and asserting expectations…I’m not perfect, but I did alright. I’m proud of the boys through all of this. It can be so easy to get caught up in the personality traits of my children that are more challenging, and forget about all of the wonderful things about them. The fact is, if I could mold their personalities exactly they way I wanted them to be, that would pretty much go against everything I’ve ever tried to teach them. My hope for them is that they grow up and they aren’t total assholes. There’s a lot of room there for a variety of outcomes. ❤

I’m pretty sure they’ll do ok.

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The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret

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August 19, 2013

I found this in an old journal…

And today I heard this:

and…yeah. Pretty much. Thank you for that validation.

In other news…I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, but I feel like all of this year’s transitions warrants a commemorative permanent engraving on my arm. So, I’m thinking artichoke. I have an idea for pomegranates on my back, but I’m not ready for that yet. So, artichoke.

I also think I want to do a zine. Full Color. I’m not sure if I want to do art cards or one big zine or a series, but the above is an example. It would be an alphabet of my favorite quotes, with drawings. A huge challenge for me, because I am not a great artist…but I think it would be fun to challenge myself to draw. And, since I love to alphabetize things…the idea of doing an alphabet is appealing. We’ll see. My last zine idea – an account of my last trip to Chicago – is still sitting there, being sad. With only a page or two done. This one seems easier somehow. Less personal. Less dramatic. Defined parameters with some creative wiggle room. I could maybe do a letter a month of subscription postcards, do a biannual zine with 6 or so letters, and put a book out with the whole alphabet after 2 years. Hehehe.

If I did that , would you subscribe?

❤

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