I Remember My First Zine
Blog-style reflections of late
Yesterday I lay beneath a canopy of cherry blossoms. A roof of pink.
We are precious flowers that can’t always bloom. Our petals wouldn’t be special if we did.
I’m writing this from my home “town” of New York. What I love about having moved to Anchorage is the perspective I get as an outsider. The lack of self-consciousness about observing people and places and wildlife as if for the first time.
Now when I visit New York, I bring some of that perspective here. I may be standing on a corner where I’ve stood many times before but, like all things, the corner has changed. I have too.
Wandering Fort Greene, I can see younger Julia pushing her bike past the church on Lafayette as she cries after watching a movie at BAM. I can see her sitting at the bar of that mediocre Italian restaurant where her boyfriend used to work.
Younger Julia is everywhere here. Her spirit floats in the air.
Maybe that’s why the east coast is humid. Its atmosphere carries the souls of the humans who lived here long after they’ve gone and passed.
The Art Book Fair
I spent all weekend tabling at the New York Art Book Fair alongside two of my friends from Alaska. For four days I watched physical human strangers interact with and be moved by my work.
Our table contained two of my zines. The first is a playful, crossword-inspired one that I debuted at the Anchorage Zine Fair in 2021. The other is more recent, and more personal. Called codependezine, it documents with visuals and words the feelings associated with a codependent rupture.
From behind my perch I witnessed people browse and purchase. One woman struck me in particular. After leafing through codependezine, she put it down and walked away. That’s fine, normal, and happened countless times. But then she came back. I watched as she photographed the front cover and flipped the zine over. She photographed my name and contact info too.
This impacted me perhaps even more than the people who bought it. A private moment between that person and my drawings and words. The idea that some part of the zine would go home with her even if only on her camera roll.
Naturally, I bought things also. Several prints and booklets and then this incredible, slightly-too-large hat that encapsulates so much of this experience:
I remember my first zine. I remember the first time I gave myself permission to be messy and silly and have an idea and go with it. As
recently wrote:“People should just try to draw things themselves. It might take a few rounds to get it right, if one isn’t practiced, but I’m convinced the end result will always be closer to their vision than anything I could translate.” - Unsupervised
As someone who put herself in the “not talented enough to be a writer/artist” box for years, this resonated deeply. Zines and zinemaking have allowed me to flex long-atrophied muscles.
And guess what? People like my zines! I made decent sales at the biggest art book fair in the country (world?) while tabling alongside talented and career artists! I am justifiably proud.
It was so fun to watch people enjoy the work we brought from Alaska. Our table was even featured in a Hyperallergic article:
The beauty of Anchorage’s creative scene is how its relative scarcity leads to risk-taking. There simply aren’t enough people to have already done all of the things you want to do or see, eat, read, listen to, etc. You’re then left with the choice of going without that thing or trying to make it yourself.
The process of making something reveals so much more than the consumption of it. I am starting to see how my attention is what brings me success in most areas of life. If I spend enough time with any one thing, it will flourish.
If I want to read a certain type of work, I must make it. And so I do.
I’ll leave you with scattered photos from the rest of the weekend. What a time :,,)
Leave me a like ♡ and/or comment if you’re so moved. Each one makes me smile. ♡
duuuude this is so heartwarming to read & reflect on. love love love that you are a longtime dedicated zinester who has kept with it. It makes me think back on the "24 hour" zine parties I was invited to in my very early 20s, wow. Had not remembered those in years - not that I made anything...yet. Enjoy the hometown feels!!
- jess
Neat idea of expression via zine. Lovely description of the earlier Julia. Am curious what drew all 4 AK ziners to NYC? Would have thought y’all would be more west coast connected.