a place for zinesters - writers and readers
I haven't finished my second zine which seems to be all art at this point. But it has been sitting at a place now that feels stuck. I figure that at some point more pictures will come so that I can finish it.
My third zine which I'm fumbling around for a collective title for at the moment is just getting started. It feels like this zine is about finally saying something about all the things that I have wanted to say but couldn't figure out how.
I don't know if it will matter. But that doesn't matter at this point. All I know is that I need to do this zine.
It's me shouting. Me saying what I need to. After 8 years of observation of life and all of us on this planet, I have something to say.
I want to scream it until I'm horse. I want to hear it in all the hidden tears that no one ever knew about. The nights, the days, the journey.
I've hit a point where I really don't care if anyone else reads it, or wants it. When it's done is when its done.
I guess it's my rebellion against staying silent, against believing that what needs to be said is nothing more than driviling tedium, best served in a closet somewhere along with the truth of know thy self and what that means after all this time.
It's being created inspite of how empty the landscape feels and has felt for so long now. It's being made with the simpliest tools because in my life that's all there is. I finally made peace with the fact that sometimes simple has to be enough. It has to satisfy inspite of how much or how many different creative explosions can be made if only I had this or that syndrome beats us to a bloody pulp in side where no one can see what's really going on.
It's my sharded bucket of truths that are just that, shards of truth. We all have our own shards that we view the world through. It's too easy to believe that we have the best shards on the planet and so end up becomming self appointed judges that really only know what their shards are showing them.
That funky plumb line that gets used to decide what's acceptable and what isn't, that one that keeps shifting and moving around depending on what we are being influenced by at the moment needs to be seen for what it is, unstable, and inconsistant.
It doesn't matter if there are thousands of voices saying the same thing just in different ways. There is always room for one more, and that spot is mine.
I finally got tired enough to do this one.