After my ‘Omens‘ show was over I decided I wanted to commemorate assembling that body of work by creating a zine. I thought it would be a nice was to condense the show, almost like an exhibition catalogue but if it were made by a raccoon. I have been ‘self-publishing’ (if you can call it that) zines for many years as part of my work with Cannibal Cubs. I like the DIY nature of making a zine, I usually assemble, copy and bind them myself. Skills! I have access to a photocopier at my job (I am building up to a post about artists and jobs, brace yourselves), so I have a low cost way of disseminating my printed works. I typically price them between £5-£7 so they aren’t too much of a bank-buster for the reader either, one of my own favourite things about zines and why I have so many myself!
I’ve had some zines printed professionally in the past, which is nice and the method I would always choose for a photography zine (photocopiers don’t do justice to colour photos imo), but for many of my projects I can get away with a VERY lo-fi approach and finish. I think I enjoy the tactility of a handmade zine, seeing the photocopier roller marks, the imperfections in the print. I’ve always enjoyed gathering other artist’s zines and some of my favourites are the most lo-fi ones. Sometimes you have an idea, or a collection of things that just need to be out in the world, and it’s a great low budget way to do it.
With Cannibal Cubs we used our zines as a moodboard for collections of our other handmade items, such as prints and wearables. They were often just replicas of sketchbooks we created from the germ of an idea- sometimes just a phrase or a theme we run with. The zines are quite chaotic but there is always some semblance of cohesion- I promise.
For the ‘Omens’ zine I wanted to try something I had been slowly building on for previous CC zines- including pieces of text written by me. I suppose it would be correct to call them poems. I had been writing short pieces during the period when I was creating the visual works for the show, so I felt like the poems worked naturally alongside the collages.
I used to write a lot of poetry when I was younger- I remember once having a poem published in one of those compendiums you pay to be a part of (!) I was probably twelve and the book had the most hideous cover. Thankfully there isn’t much evidence of this mini-poet so we can all rest easy.
I came back to writing text pieces around the time I worked on my series ‘Some Re-assemblage required’ where I produced a photographic zine at the end of the project (this one was professionally printed as I had some funding- neat!). I was really excited by the idea of incorporating text into my work. I think it was something I felt I couldn’t really do with the work I was making at the time. I would agree that my ‘Corvid Eyes’ style collage work would struggle with the inclusion of text without it being really twee, but my more experimental photographic pieces/digital works were certainly more welcoming of the inclusion of text.
I think this step back towards my own creative writing was around the time I was beginning to read more, and particularly reading more poetry. I found lots of authors whose work spoke to me in a way I hadn’t encountered before, and it was apparent that I didn’t have to adhere to a particular format, or pentameter, to write something- at that point it didn’t even need to be good, just something. The poets I discovered at this point were, amongst others, Maggie Nelson and Melissa Broder (we’ve covered my fangirling previously…). I think I had erroneously built poetry up in my mind as something I didn’t do any more, something I wasn’t interested in, something that just wasn’t for me. Wrong!
I mostly write in the evenings, often right before I go to sleep. I sometimes get a rush of ideas when I am trying to wind down, and I keep a notebook handy for this purpose. Sometimes it felt like the writing was a sort of purge, and I was able to sleep better afterwards, like finishing a crossword (no? just me?) or writing a list so your conscious mind can rest. I sometimes felt like when I was writing I was in that flow state I mention so frequently, not quite out-of-body, but just feeling more in-between than present. I have to be in a state where I am neither self conscious or critical, that can come later, I just need to write the words down as they ‘appear’ to me. If that sounds too airy-fairy, it’s basically just a state where the busyness of my mind is briefly veiled, or fully uncorked, and I can just write.
I wouldn’t describe this process as ‘automatic writing‘ as such, but I do believe in the influence of the subconscious in art making. When I was created the visual works for ‘Omens’ I took pains to follow my instincts- if an image ‘spoke’ to me I would include it, and would let my mind wander for other potential associations, for images to actively seek out for the works. Sometimes it can be easy to fool yourself into believing you’re doing things ‘automatically’ but I try to be fluid and not overanalyse my own patterns of thinking while I work (again I can do that later, and oh boy do I).
The creation of the zine was relatively straightforward. I typed up all the poems I wanted to include, and set about creating a suitable running order, pairing works with images that, in my mind, made sense. I tried not to get too bogged down in this, as I kept reminding myself- it’s my zine, I can make as many versions as I like! One of the perks of self-production is that you are less worried about making typos and other errors as you can easily reprint, or not care, without feeling like you wasted good money on something that now needs to live in a box under your bed for the rest of your years.
One of the decisions I did give some thought to was the colour of paper for the zine. I had printed the visual works for the show as risographs, and many of them had been in coloured paper and then presented in coloured frames. I felt like the zine deserved a pop of colour too. So I selected a salmon pink colour, and a lime/acid green colour. These were similar to my two favourite paper colours from the show- salmon and pistachio. The acid green is maybe a bit hard on the eyes for reading, but it is really impactful and packs a punch behind the black images.
In an ideal world I would have produced this zine by risograph as well, but my budget wasn’t quite able to go that far. The packs of paper I bought were super low cost, and in already having access to the photocopier I was able to produce the zines very, very cheaply. I stitch bind them on a sewing machine at home, and my back-up go-to is a long reach stapler. Welcome to lo-fi town.
Overall I am pleased with how the zines turned out. They won’t have a huge reach, but it felt like a milestone for me in terms of producing a zine with my own creative writing included. I might even submit some of my poems to some online poetry zines, once I’ve had a bit more practice, or maybe it’s just something I do for my own practice. Either way it has felt like a poignant moment for me, expanding what I do, building my confidence to continue writing, and feeling less and less pigeonholed by my own work. Win/win.
KEY FACTS ABOUT THE ZINE!
It’s 36 pages cover to cover.
The title came from a conversation about bad omens where I described everything I had seen as ‘garbage portents’.
It contains 10 poems- and some of them have bad language- soz.
Erm, that’s it.
For those who are interested, you can buy the zine here. I do ship internationally!
Thanks for reading, as always.
Jenny 🙂
DRAFT EXCLUDER 