Never Making In Vain
The reasons may change, but practice is ongoing.
A few weeks ago, as part of the hiring process for a communications role at a studio in LA, I was asked to respond to written questions about my artistic practice. The position has since been put on pause—indefinitely—but the task prompted me to reconsider how I work as an artist-writer / writer-artist.
Instead of just listing my experiences in an email, I decided to make something: a professional zine.
What’s a zine, you ask? Anyone assuming it’s shorthand for “magazine” is basically correct. These are usually small, DIY publications—sometimes photocopied, but in my case, digital. I used the zine to expand on my creative inquiries and interdisciplinary experiments, from oral history to poetic documentary. Like any fellowship application or grant proposal, the process took time. And though it began as a creative means to an unmet end, there was still a meaningful outcome.
I clarified my methods. I reflected on the body of work I’ve produced so far.
That’s not nothing.
Despite the looming threat of what might be gone tomorrow that’s here today, my zine remains tangible proof of something I made. Proof that creative work doesn’t disappear just because an opportunity does.
[Paid subscribers: scroll down to see the zine in full.]
As always, thank you for reading—and for supporting my practice.
More soon.
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